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#i’m nervous as HELL i hate interviews holy shit
jasonntodd · 1 year
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sodobabe · 2 years
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Never Fall for the Guitarist pt. 1
A/N: Hey everyone! I'm not new to Tumblr but I am new to the Ghost fandom and am an avid writer. I thought I would share some of my works with you all. Once I get the hang of this, I will take requests. For now, enjoy!
Summary: (Y/N) has been chosen for their dream job. Will they put their job on the line for the love of their life?
Warnings: Sexual language. Minors DNI!! Angsty Swiss. Fluffy Dewdrop.
I had always longed to be a photographer for Ghost. I lived just outside of the Abbey and had been to so many concerts I lost count but each time, all I wanted to do was snap breathtaking photos of them. What I didn’t realize is that my dream would soon come true. I was fresh out of college. I had a degree in digital media with a minor in photography. It was my hobby. I took photos of everything and anything. I started applying to jobs and was feeling giddy enough to apply to be a photographer for Ghost. I cautiously filled out the application, being sure to be as detailed in my skills as possible. Submit. It was done. I submitted the application and sat back with my hot cup of tea to take in the possible life changing step I just took.
Three days passed. I had started to think that I would never hear back from any of the places I applied. That isn’t unusual in this day and age as employers are lackadaisical when it comes to reviewing applications. Ping. I grabbed my phone and saw an email notification. Before I could even read it, I threw my phone back on the couch. I was nervous. What if they don’t want me. What if they don’t think my photography is good enough. The thoughts were racing through my mind until I finally picked up my phone again and opened the email. 
“Dear (Y/N), we were thoroughly impressed by your exquisite photography portfolio and previous work experience that you have shown. We would like to extend an invitation to you for an interview on Wednesday, June 25. Please let us know if this time does not work for you and we can reschedule.  
Best regards, Ghost Management”
Holy shit! They want to meet with me. They want to interview me. What the hell am I doing on June 25 because those plans are canceled. I quickly hit the reply button and told their management that June 25 was a perfect date for an interview. Now I have to find the perfect professional outfit, so they don’t think I’m a slob before I even get the job. 
The week passed painfully slowly. I set my alarm for 7 a.m. to ensure I had time to get a shower, and make sure I was as presentable as I could be. After all, this is a dream opportunity, and I would hate to jeopardize it. After all was said and done, I picked up my phone and checked the time. 9 a.m. Perfect timing. I calmly walked out of my house and got into my car. Typically, I blast music even if I am just driving two minutes up the road to the gas station for a late night slushie run. Not today. Today I drove in complete silence as thoughts raced through my brain.
I pulled into the parking lot of the grey stone building and checked in the mirrors to make sure I still looked good, which I did, then I ever so calmly exited my car. I made my way into the building and asked the very kind sister where I needed to go for my interview. She so graciously led me down a hallway and into a room at the end. I was greeted by a tall, slim woman who was the epitome of beauty standards.
“Hi there! You must be (Y/N). My name is Sister Imperator, and I am the head of Ghost’s management,” she said enthusiastically.
“Hi! It is so nice to meet you,” I replied, trying to hide my nervousness. 
She motioned for me to take a seat and asked me all of the questions that one would expect in an interview. Why do you think you're right for this position? Do you have experience photographing moving objects? Etc. I gave her my best answers to those questions, and she abruptly stood up.
“Welcome to the team, (Y/N),” she said with a large smile plastered across her face. “Before we see what kind of talent you have, let’s introduce you to the band,” she continued. 
Holy shit. It’s happening. I am meeting my favorite band of all time and cannot fangirl because I have to appear professional. My thoughts were quickly interrupted when in walked 8 figures who towered over me. I knew who all of them were, but they were going to introduce themselves anyway because they didn't know that. 
They stood in a line and from left to right introduced themselves. Copia was first, followed by Dewdrop, Swiss, Mountain, Rain, Aether, Cirrus, and Cumulus. Seven of the members left the room to get back to practice but Dewdrop stuck around. He was the shortest and, in my opinion, the most handsome of the four. There he was standing at his height of 5'8" with his mask only showing his gorgeous blue eyes. He was slender with a little muscle tone to his arms and thighs from performing so much. Oh, how I could’ve melted into a puddle at that very given moment. 
He stepped closer to me and gently placed his hand on my waist to guide me out of the room and show me to the practice room. His hand was warm. I could feel his body heat radiating into my skin. I had a fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Little did he know that I dream about him from time to time. The only problem was that now I could never be with him so long as I held my job title. Rule number four in the contract was that employees were to have no relations with band members, or they would be immediately terminated. Was I willing to break that rule and pray I don’t get caught? Hell yes, I was but I seriously doubt Dew would go for it. 
I snapped out of my sexual thoughts as Dewdrop welcomed me into the practice room. It was larger and darker than what I had expected but if I’m being honest, I wasn’t even sure what I was expecting. Their instruments were all in their designated spaces. Everything was neat and tidy. The only light that was provided was the sun that shined in through the cracks in the blinds. 
As I stood there in awe, once again my thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice. It was Dew again. He seemed to be the most sociable.
 “Well are you going to just stand there or are you going to show us what you got?” he said with a smug look on his face, followed by a wink. 
If I hadn’t eaten that morning, I may have passed out from the lack of oxygen from holding my breath after the wink. 
I simply nodded toward him and picked up my camera. They got busy right away playing a few songs that I already knew. I snapped so many photos I thought I was going to break the camera. That’s how I capture the best photos. Take hundreds and choose ten. As I was so entranced by doing my job, I almost missed the fact that they were playing a new song. I continued capturing digital moments when a fight broke out between Dew and Swiss. 
“I don’t fucking understand why you can’t keep up with your stupid guitar,” Swiss spat at Dew. He was significantly taller than Dew, standing at 6'2" and he must have kept all his temper in his frame. 
“Well maybe if you and Papa weren't singing ahead of the instruments, you would realize how it’s supposed to sound but no, we have to do everything on your time." Dew snapped back.
I couldn’t help but interrupt and set my camera down. 
“Ghouls, I don’t mean to step out of line, but I cannot do my job if you all are fighting because I don’t think fans want to see you all spitting comebacks at each other,” I calmly said. 
“Mind your own business, new meat,” Swiss practically growled at me. 
Dew obviously did not like this as he lunged at him. 
“Don’t you dare talk to them like that. They are doing us a service and we should treat them with the utmost respect.” Dew sternly told Swiss.
“Oh, give me a break Dew. You’re just thinking with your dick once again because that’s all you ever do. That’s why we can’t keep any employees because you can’t help but stick your stupid penis in them and they aren’t smart enough to keep it a secret. I’m sure this one will be just as dumb as the rest of them,” Swiss spouted off as he raised his arm in my general direction, ending the argument but Dew was more concerned about the fact that I swiftly left the room. 
I didn’t want to run as I didn’t want to draw more attention to myself than I already had. I found my way into the restroom and locked myself in. I backed up against the wall and slid down with my hand on my chest trying to catch my breath. What they never tell you is how different your favorite band is to what you actually imagine. A minute or two passed when there was a gentle knock on the door. I thought I was hearing things, so I ignored it and continued to even my breathing. Knock knock. There it was again. 
“(Y/N)? It’s Dew. Are you okay?” he asked in a gentle, worried tone. 
I let out a sniff and replied with a quiet “no.” 
“Well, can you let me in so we can talk it out?” he asked politely.
I pulled myself up off the comforting cold ground and unlocked the door. Dew gently opened it, making sure not to be too harsh with his movements. I threw on a fake smile to try and mask my true emotions.
“You can pretend to smile all you want but I can tell how Swiss’ words impacted you,” Dew said as he took a small step toward me. 
“Can I be honest with you, Dew?” I said after a deep breath. 
He nodded.
“I love you all as a band. I am a big fan and have been to so many of your shows that I have lost count at this point. I thought it would be a dream come true to work for you but after that little episode, other than you, the band members were nothing that I had thought,” I said shakily while meeting Dew’s eyes. 
He gave me a warm smile and said, “That’s because our photographers do their job well. We fight everyday but our photographers know to keep the ugly stuff out of the media. Just like you said, our fans don’t want to see us fighting. As far as what Swiss said about us, I don’t plan on using you like that. You’re different, (Y/N). You have a deeper intelligent personality than most of the ditsy people that come in here and work for us. I have personally seen your work and I am in awe of your talents. I want to know you for who you are, and I know we aren’t allowed to have relationships with our employees, but I won’t tell if you won’t.” 
How the hell do I say no to that? All I did was smile, nod my head, and say, “I have secrets nobody knows about, I’m sure I could keep this under the table.” 
Dew nodded and pulled me into a tight hug, my face squishing against his chest. I couldn’t help but notice his smell. Slightly sweaty with a more noticeable sandalwood scent. 
“Here’s my phone number,” he said as he handed me a card. “Text me when you get home, and I will come over. We can discuss how we will go about this relationship.” he continued. 
I nodded and put the card into my pocket before going back to the practice room, waving goodbye to the other members, grabbing my bag, and starting my venture home. 
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canirove · 2 years
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Declan Rice Imagine | one
Author's note: A little something inspired by a request on Wattpad, and also something he said one of his recent interviews 😁
Requests are open btw 😊
Masterlist
"Declan!" I scream as I fall to the floor.
"Oh my God, I am so sorry" he says, turning on the light. "Are you ok?"
"I am, yes. What the hell just happened?" I say, getting up. I am definitely gonna have a bruise on my hip tomorrow.
"I was having a nightmare."
"About what? Was it the end of the world and you had to kick a meteorite or something and confused it with my butt?"
"I would never kick your butt, you know how much I love it."
"You say the same about me, and look what happened" I say with a teasing smile.
"I'm sorry, I truly am."
"What were you dreaming about?"
"Spiders."
"Spiders?" I say, getting back in bed next to him.
"Yes, spiders. You know how much I hate them, and after watching that movie today..."
"I see. And where you kicking them on the dream?"
"They were crawling up my legs. At first I thought it was you just tickling me, but when I turned around, you weren't next to me. Then I looked down, and there were like 100 tiny spiders all over the bed and going up my legs."
"Eww, that's disgusting. No wonder you pushed me."
"Yeah" he says with a nervous laugh. "Do you forgive me, then?"
"Of course I do, Dec. But not we should go back to sleep, we have an early morning."
"I don't think I can."
"Afraid the spiders may come back?" I say, my fingers slightly touching his thigh.
"Holy shit" he says with a little jump.
"It's just me" I say with a cheeky smile, touching him again.
"I don't think this is the time for those games."
"You said you couldn't go back to slepp, so" I shrug, now touching his arm and making him flinch again.
"You seriously need to stop."
"Or what? Will you kick me out of the bed again?"
"I'll give you a taste of your own medicine" he says, moving to be on top of me and starting to tickle me.
"Dec, stop!" I say, laughing and twisting so he can't touch me so easily.
"It sucks, doesn't it?"
"It does. It... Declan!" I scream again, this time as both of us fall to the floor.
"Oh my God" he says, laughing with that loud laugh of his that can be heard from the other side of the street.
"Still thinking about spiders?" I say once we both have managed to stop laughing, still laying on the floor.
"I don't know what you are talking about" he says with a big smile.
"Good. Let's go back to the bed now" I say, getting up. Or trying to, because the moment I move, Declan grabs me by the arm and pulls me close to him, kissing me before I can complain.
"I love you" he whispers, his lips still very close to mine.
"I love you too" I say, kissing him again and forgetting about the fact that we still are on the floor, or that tomorrow we both will hate the moment our alarms go off.
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kelieah · 4 years
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work things out
tom holland x pregnant!reader. angst + fluff. language. inspiration. main masterlist. tom holland masterlist. taglist.
not too long ago tom was out the whole day for interviews and press. usually you’d go with him lately but you weren’t feeling too well. given all the strict guidelines, you stayed at home in the apartment in LA that you and tom share. you can’t deny that it did get lonely from time to time, with how busy tom is but your relationship with him is still stronger than ever. it’s a joy, every time he’s off or gets to spend time with you. the both of you cherish it and make every second worth its while.
you both have been together for about four years now. met when you were 19 and he was 21. you truly couldn’t be happier. he’s great, the dates are great, the sex is great. you couldn’t complain. though it did get pressuring from time to time when the whole world relentlessly asked if the two of you are planning to engage, marry or even have kids. the topic has popped up in a couple of conversations between you and tom, but it was never really serious. yet.
yet, you say because you recently found out you’re pregnant. that’s why you’ve been feeling real sick lately and now you’re absolutely terrified to tell tom. usually you’d say luckily. but unfortunately, he’s home now, meaning you know you’d have to tell him soon. but how? tom mentioned that he’s wanted kids, but now? you doubt it. you pushed your insecurities and overwhelming thoughts away for awhile and decided to enjoy tom’s time off with him.
so here you are, a couple of days after his recordings. tom’s in the bathroom freshening up while you’re in the living room relaxing. you plan to tell him soon. eventually. tomorrow.
shaking off the nervous feeling, you smile softly as you watch the newly released interview of tom in esquire. he looked absolutely divine. hair perfectly molded, turtle neck enhancing his clean look. god, you’re in love with him. you giggle at some of his remarks and notice him walk over. “what are you watching, babe?” he hums and sits next to you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you.
“one of your interviews,” you reply and place an arm around him, running a hand through his hair. “i quite like this one, you look rather dashing if i don’t say so myself,” you tease in a british accent.
he chuckles and stuffs his face in the crook of your neck, “yea, yea.”
you watch this next clip and stifle a laugh at the image of tom and nicki minaj photoshopped horribly on a family stock photo. “nicki minaj has announced she’s expected her first child with her husband tom holland. best of luck to the happy couple. this actually really stressed me out,” tom’s voice rang from your ipad.
“oh god, that one. i honestly don’t know how or why the two of us were put together. no relevance,” he murmurs into your skin.
“i honestly don’t know either,” you snicker and continue to watch the video.
“so, that was a big relief for me. because i’m not ready to have kids. i’m not even ready to have a dog properly. anyway,” he said and shifted around in his chair. 
those words repeated through your mind immediately and repeatedly, sending a chill down your spine. tom feels you tense up, “love? i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that in the interview i know—”
“tom? do you mean that?” you sit up a bit and pull away from his embrace.
a bit hurt from your sudden actions, tom’s face falls into a frown. “what?”
“y-you’re not ready to have kids?” you stammer and hug your knees to your chest.
“no,” he replies honestly and looks at you with eyes full of concern. his sharp and confirming reply drives a stake through your heart. you’re fucked now, you thought to yourself. “but i thought we’ve talked about this, sweetheart. right? after we get married,” he scoots closer and hesitantly pulls you back into his arms. 
“yes i know— i know. but what if,” you begrudgingly comply and fall back into his chest, pressing your face up against his built. “what if we had a kid now?”
“it’d be really difficult that’s for sure. i’m barely home, and i’ve got many films coming up. press, premieres, and shows. you know? i have some auditions coming up as well, and i don’t know. what about you, baby? aren’t you graduating next year? how would you handle baring a child during school and work. honey?” he repeats himself, noticing how you became silent.
“tommy,” you manage to croak out after feeling a lump build up in your throat. you look up at him with teary eyes and a face flushed with embarrassment.
“yes, y/n?” he sits up and cups your face, swiping away a tear that rolled down your cheek with his thumb. “shit. i’m so sorry baby, but we have to think realistic here. with my career, your career. our schedules and all. we can’t, right?”
“i suppose,” you sniffle and purse your lips. “fuck tom, you’re going to hate me when i tell you this.”
“this?” he trails off, a hint of suspicion in his eyes as he had a feeling about what you were about to tell him.
“i-i’m pregnant,” you say cautiously and shut your eyes closed tightly.
if only you could see the look on his face. he jumps up and brings you with him making you squeal as he holds you up high. “what!? are you— are you actually!?” he cries out and pulls you back down, hugging you closely.
“yes,” you whine, bit surprised at his reaction as he sways you in his arms. “y-you’re not upset? you just said you’re not ready?”
he shakes his head and tenderly presses kisses along your shoulder and back up towards your lips. “just because i’m not ready doesn’t mean i don’t want to have kids with you. i’ll be ready. i’ll fucking, shit i’ll make myself ready. my sweet, love, darling. hell, i’d never. never be upset for you baring our child, never. never in a million years. are you, are you actually?” he asks once more for safe measures.
“yes,” you begin to cry out in joy and nod excitedly. “i-i took one of those pregnancy tests but to be sure i just took the whole fucking box. so i pissed on like five sticks and— and they were all positive, but i still wasn’t pleased so i went to the doctors and tom. i’m already three weeks,” she whimpers
“holy hell, has it really been that long since we’ve had sex!?” he exclaims and your jaw slacks. he laughs loudly and you shove him harshly down onto the couch. “i’m joking! just joking, oh darling. oh my love. i’m so happy i couldn’t express myself more, i don’t know what to say—” he rambles on while you straddle his waist. you place a finger on his lips and he instantly shuts up, carefully placing his hands upon your hips. 
“i love you,” you sigh and lean down, placing your forehead against his. 
“i love you more,” he responds and pulls your waist closer. “we can work this out. i’m sure you’ll be able to manage college, but work? maybe it’s time you quit that bloody job of yours with the asshole of a manager. i know you don’t want to depend on my money but angel, c’mon. been together for almost five years now and i’ve barely spent a dime on you.”
you sigh and nod reluctantly, “i know. i’ll quit the job. definitely don’t need the extra stress. but this doesn’t mean spoil me, tommy. you know that right?”
“why not!?”
“because! because well, you don’t need to. it’s waste.”
he lets out an offended gasp, “how dare you insult my future wife and child like that. spending money on you both, will never be a waste. you hear me?”
“tooooommy! i meant me, yes spoil our child but not me.”
“i’m not arguing about this, sorry darling,” he shrugs.
you slap his chest and huff frustratingly. “but, what about you?”
“i obviously can’t cancel the films, but i’ll take out press i don’t really need to do, you know? with covid still around, i doubt there’ll be any press tours for another year so that’s nothing we need to worry about. though, i think i can manage a way to work from home more. besides recording days, obviously. i’m an idiot, ignore me. anyway, and i won’t audition for any upcoming or new films until we’ve settled, yea?”
you take in his words and glance at him in complete adoration. “you’d really do all that for me? for us?” you whisper.
“oh darling, in a heartbeat. i’d do anything for you, for you both. we’ll work things out,” he tilts your chin down and kisses your forehead. “okay?”
you smile lovingly and nod. “okay, thank you.”
“love, don’t thank for me. this is all a given, you hear that?”
“yea, i hear that,” you sigh and curl up in between his legs, cuddling into his embrace. 
“good, i love you new mum.”
you flush and hide your face into his shirt. he laughs loudly and wraps his arms around securely, pressing multiple kisses against your head. “i love you too, new dad.”
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vibrant-leaf · 3 years
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Therapy is Manly
Part two.
🧡 ~KiriBaku Fic~ ❤️
Summary: The happy ending to part one of this breakup/makeup fic! Many months later, Bakugou finally tries again. The link to the song that inspired me to write this whole thing is at the bottom. And here is a link to part one if you haven't read that yet. Enjoy!
Word Count: 4032
Warnings: cursing, very little angst, suggestive tones but nothing explicit
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10 months later…
No way. There is absolutely no fucking way that Bakugou’s going to let anyone lay a single finger on Kirishima if he’s there to help it. He understands Kirishima’s strength and knows he can take care of himself easily. But he also knows that Kirishima doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. So when some dumbass villain decides it’s a brilliant idea to try and go for Red Riot’s back when he’s already busy with another villain, Dynamight’s eyes instantly lock onto his target before he’s charging and yelling at him and proceeds to blow the villain back a solid one hundred- ope no he’s still going- two hundred yards. Sure, he could’ve held back just a tad but that’s what the fucker gets so, oh well.
Kirishima‘s able to look over in the direction of the poor soul who’s knocked out in the next town over when he finally gets a hold of the villain in front of him, and his mouth hangs open as his eyes grow wide. “Damn… that was manly.”
The fight in the streets finally comes to a close and a random reporter tracks down the great up-and-coming hero, Dynamight, before he’s able to escape the scene. Kirishima can see Bakugou roll his eyes before he faces the reporter with an unamused look on his face. And just like the press, the smile that spreads across Kirishima’s face is unavoidable.
“Hey, Dynamight!” Kirishima feels nervous but he forces himself to walk up to Bakugou after the reporter disappears to go talk to another hero.
It’s been ten whole months since Kirishima last talked to his ex-boyfriend. Graduation was eight months ago, which was the last time he saw him in person. He thinks back to that happy day when the whole class was gathered in the yard in front of U.A., just freshly graduated, and two pairs of red eyes meet within the joyful chaos that was surrounding them. They didn’t look away, they held their gaze, and they smiled at each other. Graduation was a day of celebration, a day to feel hopeful about the future, and at that moment, they both felt a small spark of hope ignite for their future together.
Kirishima is brought back to the present when he looks at Bakugou’s arms, and he wonders if his muscles were that big before because damn… those look manly.
Bakugou hears the familiar, cheery voice call out to him and he instantly realizes that hearing that voice in person is a lot better than hearing it through his phone when he watches interviews of Red Riot. Yes, he realizes that he’s indulging in what he absolutely hates, but those interviews serve as necessary reminders of what he’s going to therapy for alright? He has found that they especially help right after a tough session when he’s feeling like shit.
The scowl on Bakugou’s face relaxes when Kirishima walks up next to him.
“Thanks again for the save back there! That was… really manly, even though you probably didn’t have to blast him that far!” Kirishima laughs a little awkwardly.
“Just be more careful next time, Eij- Shitty-Hair. And that asshole deserved it.”
“Whatever you say, man!” After a couple of tense and silent seconds pass by, Kirishima glances off to the side and his hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Sooo… how have you been doing?”
Bakugou knows what he’s really asking him, and he wants to tell him. He wants to tell him everything, pour out all of the contents of his heart onto this gorgeous man standing in front of him, but there were still people around them. “Fan-fuckin-tastic.” Kirishima’s faint chuckle makes Bakugou’s heart stir. This opportunity was really being handed to him on a silver platter, wasn’t it? For a few weeks, he’s been thinking about reaching out to Kirishima but had no clue how to go about it. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with texting him out of the blue after so long but right here was a golden opportunity for him. So, in sheer fuck it fashion he gets straight to the point, “are you seeing anyone right now?”
Kirishima is taken aback by the sudden question. “Uh.. no. No, I’m not.” A few people have asked him out over the past ten months and he’s told them all no. Saying that he wasn’t exactly emotionally available at the moment. While Kirishima did in fact heal from what happened between him and his love so many months ago, he was still holding onto the hope of getting back together with him. Sure, he could have tried to go out on a couple of dates but it wouldn’t have been fair to the other person if he was just wishing he was with Bakugou the whole time.
Kirishima’s heartbeat starts to quicken. Why the hell did Bakugou ask him if he was seeing anyone? Was he finally ready? Was he going to ask him if he wanted to try again? Kirishima was holding his breath now, waiting for Bakugou to say something.
Bakugou keeps tapping his thumb on his thigh. What if Kirishima says no? What if he’s completely over him and realizes he doesn’t want him anymore? He shakes his head a little to get rid of the thoughts that are trying to poison his brain. Bakugou looks at Kirishima square in the eyes. “Do you want to come over to my place for dinner tonight?”
A wide, closed-lip smile spreads across Kirishima’s face and Bakugou wonders how a simple smile like that can be so full of light.
“I’d love to.”
Bakugou feels like screaming in victory, but of course, he keeps his cool. “Great. Seven o’clock. I’ll text you my address.”
“Okay!” Excitement sparkles in Kirishima’s eyes and Bakugou’s really starting to have trouble keeping calm.
“Okay.. see ya then.” Bakugou chews on the inside of his cheek. “Gotta blast-” and he did just that; stepping back and blasting up into the air… as well as immediately regretting those last two words. Gotta blast? GOTTA BLAST?! What the fuck?! When he lands on top of a building, the embarrassment fizzles out of his body, and instead, he feels so incredibly excited that he can’t help but scream at the top of his lungs. “FUCK YEAH!”
Apparently, Bakugou didn’t fly far enough away because Kirishima could clearly hear his mini-celebration off in the distance. His chest flutters and heat rises to his face as he lifts his hand to the back of his neck again and lets out an embarrassing little giggle.
Seven o’clock approaches way too fast but also way too slow at the same time. It’s really fucking weird how time passes when you’re incredibly anxious about something.
Bakugou is plating their dinner as Kirishima is riding the elevator to the top floor of the apartment complex. They’re both sweaty and feel like their hearts are about to burst out of their chest at any given moment, and Bakugou’s almost does when he hears a knock on his door. He takes a deep, centering breath through his nose before walking over to let Kirishima inside.
The door opens and both men look at each other.
Kirishima’s hair is a little longer than it was ten months ago, and with it down it just easily goes past his shoulders, and Bakugou can easily see the black roots that are starting to grow in. His shitty hair is really throwing Bakugou through a loop right now. He wants to run his hands through it and pul- nope, nope, no. Pure thoughts. Pure thoughts only. Then, suddenly, Bakugou is hyperaware of his presence because, holy shit, Kirishima is here, he’s here for Bakugou, at Bakugou’s apartment.
Kirishima on the other hand isn’t doing super swell either. He wasn’t prepared for the navy blue dress shirt and dark grey pants Bakugou is currently wearing and gets a small sense of embarrassment from only wearing jeans and a striped button-up. “Uh.. sorry I didn’t dress up more,” he smiles awkwardly.
Bakugou smirks and cocks his head. “You think I’m not used to the way you dress Shitty-Hair?” Kirishima hums a laugh. “It looks nice, by the way.”
Kirishima’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Huh? What does?”
“You hair. The length. Your roots growing in. I don’t know, it looks nice or whatever.”
“Oh! Thanks! I’m trying to grow it out longer actually! I think it would look badass if it was really long, especially if I go Unbreakable!” The embarrassment vanishes from Kirishima, and Bakugou relaxes as he steps aside to let Kirishima in. They continue to talk about his hair, about the roots being a pain to redye, Bakugou reminding Kirishima that he’s willing to help him with that process, and Kirishima being so relieved at the offer because it really was easier and faster with Bakugou’s help after all.
Dinner goes on just like that. Talking and laughing about anything and everything: from good days on patrol to not-so-good days on patrol, raises, promotions, where Kirishima lives now, health issues…
“I think the hearing in my right ear is going to shit.” Bakugou picks at the remnants of his food he’s trying to stuff down.
“Oh really? You should probably get that checked out.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s just a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“Katsuki.” It’s the first time Kirishima uses his first name after all this time and it comes out so naturally. Bakugou has a faint blush on his cheeks from hearing it.
“...Fine. Whatever.”
“No, not whatever. You should really call a doctor so it doesn’t get worse-” Kirishima is ready to go on a long rant about how one should take care of their body and listen to any signs of trouble.
But Bakugou cuts him off. “If I say I’ll call them tomorrow will you drop it?”
“-body is a templ- oh… Only if you promise!” Kirishima is surprised at how easy it was to convince him with something like this since he used to hate going to Recovery Girl’s office at U.A.
Bakugou rolls his eyes. “I promise. And if you’re gonna say shit like ‘your body is a temple,’’’ he says mockingly, “then eat all the damn veggies I made you.”
Kirishima pretends to look offended and lets out an overly dramatic scoff. “The audacity you have to assume that I wasn’t going to!” He then proceeds to shovel all of the steamed vegetables that are leftover on his plate (which was about ninety percent of what he had to begin with and was the only thing on his plate at this point) into his mouth. Bakugou chuckles as he shakes his head at him.
They then go on to talk about more hero stuff and soon they’re comparing how many people and kids have asked them for their autographs. Kirishima has two more than Bakugou and even though he hates any prolonged interactions with fans he’s still kind of pissed.
“What?! Bullshit!”
“Nope. Not bullshit. Maybe if you didn’t look so mean and yell at everyone then more people would ask for your autograph.” Kirishima gives him a smug look.
Bakugou scoffs and crosses his arms. A weird silence falls upon them. “I’m… I’m getting better at that, by the way.” Kirishima’s eyebrows raise.
“Oh? Really?”
“Yeah, really. I better be at least, or else I would’ve been wasting my damn money on my therapist.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.” Kirishima smiles at him. “Are you still going?”
Bakugou gets up from the table, gathers their dishes, then walks to the sink. Kirishima understands, it’s tough, talking about this stuff, but isn’t that why he’s here in the first place? Then again, it’s Bakugou talking here, so he’ll give him all the time he needs. What’re a few more minutes compared to almost a year anyway? He walks over to the sink next to Bakugou. “I wash, you dry?”
“Sure.”
And they do just that. Washing, drying, and putting away the dishes with nothing but the sound of running water and clinking of dishes filling the air. They’re comfortable next to each other.
Once they’re done, Kirishima looks at the clock on the stove. It’s starting to get late already. They were talking for so long that now they didn’t have much time to talk about… that. Kirishima loved how easy and normal it felt to talk to Bakugou again but he needs to address the more important topic here. He doesn’t want this to be just a random visit and then they go back to not talking for another long of period time. But he also doesn’t want Bakugou to feel like he’s pushing him too much if it’s still too early yet. “I should probably head out soon.”
Bakugou can hear the sadness in his voice even if it is barely there from Kirishima trying to hide it, but nevertheless, he recognizes that tone. “I’m still going.” He sees Kirishima perk up a little. “It’s just… fucking hard. Who knew I’d be so damn difficult to fix. I’m better, I think, at least that’s what my therapist says. Even my parents noticed.” They’re both leaning back against the countertop in the kitchen with Bakugou’s arms crossed and Kirishima’s forearms resting on the countertop. In his peripheral, Bakugou sees Kirishima looking at him intently. He chews on the inside of his cheek. “But I’m still... Or I still... You know.”
“Yeah, I get it. You still have your moments. I’m the same way.” Kirishima continues when Bakugou looks gives him a confused look. “I started going too… figured my self-esteem and sense of self-worth could use some help. And just like you said, I’m doing a lot better, but I’ll still have my moments. I’ll have this voice in the back of my head trying to make me doubt myself again. Or when I got that promotion at Fat Gum’s agency I started feeling a little guilty. Thought someone else probably deserved it more than me-”
“Tch, like who?”
Kirishima shrugs. “Anyone, really. I know, I know, it’s dumb, but I definitely don’t think that way now. And… I realize… back when we were together in school… I shouldn’t have let you off the hook so easy after the way you’d treat me. I was just afraid you would see me as weak if I were to get too upset over something you said and then you’d dump me because you’d realize you didn’t want to be with someone who was weak.”
“I could never see you as weak, Eijirou. You are one of the strongest people I know if not, the strongest. I could see the look on your face when I said those things to you and it terrified me. I thought that if I could make you out of all people feel like shit, then I really was a fucking terrible human being… I was scared of myself... And I was scared of what I was doing to you.”
Bakugou is looking directly into Kirishima’s eyes as he lets the words fall out of his mouth. He’s thought about what exactly he would say to Kirishima when they would talk about this. But what he’s saying now isn’t like any of the rehearsed lines he’s gone over multiple times in his head, he’s simply letting his heart speak for him. It was so easy too. With Kirishima talking about his thought process from back then first, it felt natural to follow his lead and open up about what he was thinking back then too.
Bakugou takes a deep breath. “I… I truly believe I’m better now, despite having the rare occasional outburst. But it’s not almost every single day that I’ll lash out at people. I’m still me, but I’ve gotten better at apologizing, learning after I make a mistake, and not being so fucking stubborn all the time. So… I know that this time, I’ll be able to love you the right way. The way you deserve to be loved.”
Kirishima swallows the lump in his throat that’s starting to form. He’s so fucking proud of Bakugou and he’s even proud of his own progress he’s made. Kirishima can see the determination on Bakugou’s face.
Bakugou shifts a little to face him more as he looks up at him. “Eijirou… If you want to and if you’re a hundred percent sure about it… I want to try this again. Try us again. I can’t promise I won’t mess up from time to time but I can promise that I’ll never call you useless again. Fuck, I’m still sorry about that. I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth, I don’t know why-”
“Katsuki.” Bakugou stops his rambling when Kirishima touches his shoulder. “I forgive you.”
Bakugou’s shoulders relax from the tension that was building up from remembering his mistake that caused everything to go down the way it did.
Kirishima continues to speak. “And, yes, I want to try again too.” Kirishima can actually see Bakugou’s face light up and it’s the cutest damn thing to him and he really wants to kiss him right now.
“You’re a hundred percent sure?”
“Yes, a hundred percent. I want it more than anything in the world. I want you back in my life.”
A hint of worry falls back onto Bakugou’s face. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit scared. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“Katsuki. I’m not made of glass bones and paper skin. I can handle a slip-up from time to time, okay? And I promise that I’ll be better at holding you more accountable.”
“Punch me in the fucking face if you have to.”
“Um, no. I’d rather not end up like that villain today when you blasted him into next week.”
Bakugou laughs proudly at the mention of the scum bag that tried to hurt his beloved earlier that day.
Kirishima smiles back at Bakugou and pulls him in for a hug. He really can’t help himself, he needs to touch him again.
Their hug starts off light but it quickly morphs into the type of embrace that makes them grasp onto each other like a lifeline. Kirishima’s arms are wrapped around Bakugou’s neck as his face is buried into the side of his hair. Bakugou is squeezing Kirishima’s torso and his face is digging into his shoulder. They breathe in each other’s scents. The hug and the nostalgic smell of each other are immensely relieving. This is where they belong. Together. In each other’s arms. And it feels like home.
For a while, they stay like this. Simply enjoying every second of being physically and emotionally connected again.
“I missed you so fucking much,” Bakugou breathes out against Kirishima’s shoulder.
Kirishima wants to talk but his throat is starting to burn and his lips are wobbling, so he just nods first to collect himself before replying, “I missed you too.”
Bakugou squeezes him even tighter. “It’ll be better this time, I promise. I fucking swear, okay Eijirou?” He lifts his head to look into Krishima’s glistening eyes.
Kirishima nods again and lets out a shaky, “okay.”
“And I’m never letting you go, ever again…” Bakugou glances off to the side with a look of guilt and pain, “cause that was fucking terrible.”
“Yeah…” Kirishima takes a deep breath, blinks back the tears that almost spilled out of his eyes, and swallows the lump in his throat. “Longest ten months of my life.” He can see the look of shame fall heavier in Bakugou’s eyes. “But, we both needed it. So… thank you for being strong enough to let us go so we could work on ourselves for a bit.” Bakugou still doesn’t look as relaxed as Kirishima wants him to be, so he places a hand on the side of Bakugou’s face and it makes him look directly at Kirishima. “It still might be difficult from time to time, but growing together is just as important too.” Kirishima softly smiles down at the man he would do anything for.
A blush grows quickly on Bakugou’s cheeks as his eyebrows finally relax. He’s transfixed by the way Kirishima is looking at him so he can only answer with a simple nod. And Kirishima must have a vendetta against him because this gorgeous fucker makes his brain malfunction even more by leaning down to lightly press his lips against Bakugou’s. If butterflies were fluttering in his stomach before, then they were setting off explosions now.
It feels like their first kiss all over again. How is that possible? Neither of them know, but neither of them question it. Instead, they relish in the familiar touch of the other’s lips against their own and they both gain a sense of confidence that they’re going to be just fine.
Once they separate, they slowly open their eyes before pressing their foreheads together. A moment of peaceful silence falls upon them.
In the softest voice he can manage, as if any other tone would ruin the moment between them, Kirishima reluctantly utters, “it’s getting a little late… you want to meet up again tomorrow?” Bakugou affirms him with a nod before letting go and walking him to the door. Kirishima puts a hand on Bakugou’s hip and they exchange one more sweet peck. And then Kirishima gets a smug look on his face.
“Well, gotta blast, Katsuki!” Kirishima waves as he walks out the door.
“Oh my god, shut up!” Bakugou slams the door loud enough that it most likely annoys some of his neighbors.
Kirishima laughs and is about to walk away when he hears the door reopen along with a faint, “Oi.” He turns his head to gaze upon a red-faced Bakugou.
“....I love you, Eijirou.” Bakugou worries that he said it too grumbly before Kirishima instantly blinds him with one of his signature toothy grins.
“I love you too, Katsuki!” No one, absolutely no one, can compete with the amount of happiness Kirishima is full of now. The love of his life, declaring his love for him once again, sparks so much joy in Kirishima’s heart, he’s tempted to go on the roof of a building to scream, FUCK YEAH!
Bakugou allows a little smile to slip on his face and he closes the door once more. The smile grows even wider as he leans back against his door, and that’s when he feels it again: the magnetic force that’s pulling him to his favorite person in the entire world. And for the second time today he thinks, “fuck it,” swings his door open yet again, and marches right over to the redhead before he can reach the stairs.
Kirishima turns around in part surprise and part worry, and he’s about to question Bakugou until his hand is being snatched up and he’s being pulled into the apartment. “Uh- Ka-Kats- I’d love to stay longer but I have to wake up early tomorrow.” He might be protesting but he easily follows Bakugou’s lead as they cross the threshold of the door and Kirishima lets himself be pushed against the wall.
“So stay over.” Simple as that right? Bakugou thinks so at least. He intertwines both his hands into Kirishima’s and stares daringly into his eyes. It’s Kirishima’s turn to be flustered and Bakugou is pleased.
“But my stuff- uh- my hero costume is back at my apartment.” Kirishima’s heart is hammering in his chest as excitement starts filling in the pit of his stomach.
Bakugou tilts his head and smirks. “Then I’ll just go get it for you if your ass can’t get up early enough.”
Kirishima quirks an eyebrow. Okay, two can play at this game. “Hmm.. that’s if your ass is even able to move at all tomorrow morning,” Kirishima smirks back down at Bakugou before he grabs the back of his head and crashes their lips together in a heated kiss.
And what those two men, who were so deeply in love with each other, do for the rest of the evening... is classified information.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope you liked the ending! This was the longest fic I’ve ever written and I’m actually quite proud of it. Thank you so much for reading! 🙏🏻
The song that inspired me to write this fic > 🎶🎶
Also…… if you caught that Sponegbob reference… I love you. I wrote it as a joke but ended up keeping it hehehe.
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marmalodi · 3 years
Text
John Lennon and Yoko Ono Interview: St. Regis Hotel, 9/5/1971
When we turned up at the St. Regis for our first interview, John and Yoko were still in bed. It was nearly afternoon and there was a flurry of activity in the adjacent rooms. May Pang was much in evidence, bustling about, her long black hair swirling around her. (This was a year or two before her affair with John.) She told us that our interview would have to be interrupted by a fitting for Yoko, which turned out to be to our advantage, because in Yoko's absence John was prepared to go back into the past and talk about Hamburg and the role of Brian Epstein.
We were served tea on a silver tray. John chain-smoked Gauloises, and the interview proceeded. It was obvious from the start that he was still angry at Paul, but when I played the tapes back later, I noticed he did not say anything negative about Paul's music. He attacked Paul for being bossy, arrogant, chauvinistic, etc, but in the next breath he would be telling us about Hamburg and about Paul having to be onstage for an hour and a half playing 'What'd I Say,' and you could hear the affection in his voice.
I have listened to these tapes many times, and I have always been struck by the contradictions within John Lennon. He tended to see the world in terms of black and white, and people were either on his good list or his hit list, and often subject to being switched from one to the other, according to which way the conversation turned. He was always outspoken, yet the charm of John's outspokenness was not only his way with words, but also that he was as critical and candid about himself as others. In the end it was this that made him endearing. He bared his soul about everything -- his insecurities, his mistakes -- and when he did so, even when he appeared ridiculous, he was a breath of fresh air in the entertainment world.
One moment I remember during the interview was when John and Yoko were leaning toward the microphone, each jostling the other to tell the story of how they met and fell in love. No one could have been in their presence for those minutes and not have been affected by it.
Neil Aspinal, the Beatles' longtime friend, said, 'The Beatles' world was an unreal world... a war zone.' It surely was. In a way I think Yoko brought John home. He found comfort, love, and understanding with her. He had a son by her and devoted himself to his child. I have no doubt he was a happier man in 1980 than he was in 1967 when he walked into that London art Gallery. - Peter McCabe (1984)
Q: "Let's talk about the Beatles' breakup, and the falling out between you and Paul. A lot of people think it had to do with the women in your lives. Is that why the Beatles split up?"
JOHN: "Not really. The split was over who would manage us -- Allen Klein or the Eastmans -- and nothing else really, although the split had been coming from Pepper onward."
Q: "Why, specifically?"
JOHN: "Paul was always upset about the White Album. He never liked it because on that one I did my music, he did his, and George did his. And first, he didn't like George having so many tracks. He wanted it to be more a group thing, which really means more Paul. So he never liked that album, and I always preferred it to all the other albums, including Pepper, because I thought the music was better. The Pepper myth is bigger, but the music on the White Album is far superior, I think."
Q: "That's your favorite, of all the Beatle albums?"
JOHN: "Yeah, because I wrote a lot of good shit on that. I like all the stuff I did on that, and the other stuff as well. I like the whole album. But if you're talking about the split, the split was over Allen and Eastman."
Q: "You didn't like Lee Eastman (Linda's father), nor John (Linda's brother), and the Eastmans didn't like Allen Klein..."
JOHN: "The Eastmans hated Allen from way back. They're from the class of family... like all classes, I suppose, they vote like Daddy does. They're the kind of kids who just think what their fathers told them."
Q: "But for a while you didn't get along with Linda."
JOHN: "We all got along well with Linda."
Q: "When did you first meet her?"
JOHN: "The first time was after that Apple press conference in America. We were going back to the airport and she was in the car with us. I didn't think she was particularly attractive. A bit too tweedy, you know. But she sat in the car and took photographs and that was it. And the next minute she's married him."
YOKO: "There was a nice quality about her. As a woman she doesn't offend you because she doesn't come on like a coquettish bird, you know? So she was alright, and we were on very good terms until Allen came into the picture. And then she said, 'Why the hell do you have to bring Allen into it?' She said very nasty things about Allen."
Q: "Yoko, you weren't with John the first time he met her?"
YOKO: "No. The first time I met her was when she came to the EMI studio. And you know, when Beatles are recording, there's very few people around, especially no women. If a young woman comes into the room, everybody just sort of looks at her. So I was there, and the first thing Linda made clear to me -- almost unnecessarily -- was the fact that she was interested in Paul, and not John, you know? She was sort of presupposing that I would be nervous. She just said, 'Oh, I'm with Paul.' Something to that effect. I think she was eager to be with me and John, in the sense that Paul and John are close, we should be close too. And couple to couple we were going to be good friends."
Q: "What was Paul's attitude to you as things progressed?"
YOKO: "Paul began complaining that I was sitting too close to them when they were recording, and that I should be in the background."
JOHN: "Paul was always gently coming up to Yoko and saying, 'Why don't you keep in the background a bit more?' I didn't know what was going on. It was going on behind my back."
Q: "So did that contribute to the split?"
JOHN: "Well, Paul rang me up. He didn't actually tell me he'd split, he said he was putting out an album. He said, 'I'm now doing what you and Yoko were doing last year. I understand what you were doing.' All that shit. So I said, 'Good luck to yer.'"
Q: "So, John. You and Paul were probably the greatest songwriting team in a generation. And you had this huge falling out. Were there always huge differences between you and Paul, or was there a time when you had a lot in common?"
JOHN: "Well, Paul always wanted the home life, you see. He liked it with daddy and the brother... and obviously missed his mother. And his dad was the whole thing. Just simple things. He wouldn't go against his dad and wear drainpipe trousers. And his dad was always trying to get me out of the group behind me back, I found out later. He'd say to George, 'Why don't you get rid of John, he's just a lot of trouble. Cut your hair nice and wear baggy trousers,' like I was the bad influence because I was the eldest. So Paul was always like that. And I was always saying, 'Face up to your dad, tell him to fuck off. He can't hit you. You can kill him (laughs) he's an old man.' I used to say, 'Don't take that shit.' But Paul would always give in to his dad. His dad told him to get a job, he dropped the group and started working on the fucking lorries, saying, 'I need a steady career.' We couldn't believe it. Once he rang up and said he'd got this job and couldn't come to the group. So I told him on the phone, 'Either come or you're out.' So he had to make a decision between me and his dad then, and in the end he chose me. But it was a long trip."
Q: "So you think with Linda he's found what he wanted?"
JOHN: "I guess so. I guess so. I just don't understand. I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted. I knew I wanted something intelligent or something arty. But you don't really know what you want until you find it. So anyway, I was very surprised with Linda. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd married Jane because it had been going on for a long time and they went through a whole ordinary love scene. But with Linda it was just like -- boom! She was in and that was the end of it."
Q: "So if the falling out was essentially with Paul, what made you decide not to participate in the Bangladesh concert with George?"
JOHN: "I told George about a week before it that I wouldn't be doing it. I just didn't feel like it. I just didn't want to be fucking rehearsing and doing a big show-biz trip. We were in the Virgin Islands, and I certainly wasn't going to be rehearsing in New York, then going back to the Virgin Islands, then coming back up to New York and singing. And anyway, they couldn't have got any more people in, if I'd been there or not. I got enough money off records and I don't feel like doing two shows a night."
Q: "Do you have any regrets about not doing it?"
JOHN: "Well, at first I thought, 'Oh, I wish I'd been there,' you know, with Dylan and Leon... they needed a rocker. Everybody was telling me 'You should have been there, John,' but I'm glad I didn't do it in a way because I didn't want to go on as 'The Beatles.' And with George and Ringo there it would have had that connotation of Beatles -- Now let's hear Ringo sing 'It Don't Come Easy.' That's why I left it all. I don't want to play 'My Sweet Lord.' I'd as soon go out and do exactly what I want."
Q: "John, you said you 'get enough off records,' but you used to say you weren't as rich as people thought you were. Are you rich enough finally?"
JOHN: "Well, I do have money for the first time ever, really. I do feel slightly secure about it, secure enough to say I'll go on the road for free. The reason I got rich is because I'm so insecure. I couldn't give it all away, even in my most holy, Christian, God-fearing, Hare Krishna period. I need it because I'm so insecure. Yoko doesn't need it. She always had it. I have to have it. I'm not secure enough to give it all up, because I need it to protect me from whatever I'm frightened of."
YOKO: "He's very vulnerable."
JOHN: "But now I think that Allen Klein has made me secure enough, it's his fault that I'll go out for free."
Q: "You mean tour for free?"
JOHN: "Well, I thought I can't really go on the road and take a lot more money. What am I going to do with it? I've got all the fucking bread I need. If I go broke, well, I'd go on the road for money then. But now I just couldn't face saying, 'Well, I cost a million when I sing.'"
YOKO: "It's criminal."
JOHN: "It's bullshit, because I want to sing. So I'm going out on the road because I want to this time. I want to do something political, and radicalize people, and all that jazz. I feel like going out with Yoko, and taking a really far-out show on the road, a mobile, political, rock and roll show."
YOKO: "With clowns as well."
JOHN: "You know what I was thinking -- when Paul's going out on the road, I'd like to be playing in the same town for free next door! And he's charging about a million. That would be funny."
YOKO: "Our position is -- I come from the East, he comes from the West -- a meeting of East and West, and all that. And to communicate with people is almost a responsibility. We actually are living proof of East and West getting along together. High water falls low, you know. And if our cup is full, it's going to flow. It's natural for us to give because we have a lot. If we don't give, it's criminal, in the sense that it's going against the law of nature. In order to go against the law of nature you have to use tremendous energy."
Q: "Let's talk about Allen Klein. He has a reputation as a tough wheeler-dealer in the music business. What made you decide to have him as your manager?"
JOHN: "Well, Allen's human, whereas Eastman and all them other people are automatons. And one of the early things that impressed me about Allen -- and obviously it was a kind of flattery as well -- was that he really knew which stuff I'd written. Not many people knew which was my song and which was Paul's, but he'd say, 'Well, McCartney didn't write that line, did he?' I thought, anybody who knows me this well, just by listening to records, is pretty perceptive. I'm not the easiest guy to read, although I'm fairly naive and open in some ways, and I can be conned easily. But in other ways I'm quite complicated, and it's not easy to get through all the defenses and see what I'm like. Allen knew to come to me and not to go to Paul, whereas somebody like Lew Grade or Eastman would have gone to Paul."
Q: "Did Klein hope to get Paul back into the group?"
JOHN: (laughs) "He came up with this plan. He said, "Just ring Paul and say, 'We're recording next Friday, are you coming?' So it nearly happened. Then Paul would have forfeited his right to split by joining us again. But Paul would never, never do it, for anything, and now I would never do it."
Q: "There was a lot of negative publicity about Klein. Didn't that bother you?"
JOHN: "Well, he's a businessman. He's probably cut many peoples' throats. So have I. I made it too. I mean, I can't remember anybody I literally cut, but I've certainly trod on a few feet on the way up. And I'm sure Allen did also."
Q: "How does Klein compare with Brian Epstein as a manager?"
JOHN: "Well, Brian couldn't delegate, and neither can Allen. But I understand that. When I try and delegate it never gets done properly. Like with my albums and Yoko's, each time I have to go through the same process -- Get the printing size right. I want it clear and simple. I have to go through the same jazz all the time. It's never a lesson learned."
Q: "Let's get back to something we were talking about earlier. The attitude of the other Beatles toward Yoko."
JOHN: "They don't listen to women. Women are chicks to them."
Q: "What about George?"
JOHN: "George always has a point of view about that wide (he holds his hands close together), you know? You can't tell him anything."
YOKO: "George is sophisticated, fashionwise..."
JOHN: "He's very trendy, and he has the right clothes on, and all of that."
YOKO: "But he's not sophisticated, intellectually."
JOHN: "No. He's very narrow-minded. One time in the Apple office I was saying something, and he said, 'I'm as intelligent as you, you know.' This must have been resentment. Of course he's got an inferiority complex from working with Paul and me."
Q: "John, what did you think of Yoko's work when you first saw it?"
JOHN: "Well, her gallery show was a bit of an eye-opener. I wasn't sure what it was all about. I knew there was some sort of con game going on. She calls herself a concept artist, but with the 'cept' left off, it's con artist. I saw that side of it and that was interesting. And then we met."
Q: "Was it love at first sight?"
JOHN: "Well, I always had this dream of meeting an artist woman I would fall in love with. Even from art school. And when we met and were talking I just realized that she knew everything I knew -- and more probably. And it was coming out of a woman's head. It just sort of bowled me over. It was like finding gold or something. To have exactly the same relationship with any male you'd ever had, but also you could go to bed with it, and it could stroke your head when you felt tired or sick or depressed. Could also be Mother. And if the intellect is there... well, it's just like winning the pools. So that's why when people ask me for a precis of my story, I put, 'born, lived, met Yoko.' because that's what it's been about.
"As she was talking to me I would get high, and the discussion would get to such a level that I would be going higher and higher. And when she'd leave, I'd go back into this sort of suburbia. Then I'd meet her again and my head would go off like I was on an acid trip. I'd be going over what she'd said and it was incredible, some of the ideas and the was she was saying them, And then once I got a sniff of it I was hooked. Then I couldn't leave her alone. We couldn't be apart for a minute from then on."
YOKO: "He has this nature, and I'm thankful for it. Most men are so narrow-minded. Somebody once told me, 'You don't make small talk, and that's why men hate you.' I mean, I have so many male enemies who try to stifle me. What the hell."
JOHN: "I did the same, of course. I found myself being a chauvinist pig with her. Then I started thinking, 'Well, if I said that to Paul, or asked Paul to do that, or George, or Ringo, they'd tell me to fuck off.' And then you realize -- you just have this attitude to women that is just insane! It's beyond belief , the way we're brought up to think of women. And I had to keep saying, 'Well, would I tell a guy to do that? Would I say that to a guy? Would a guy take that?' Then I started to get nervous. I thought, 'Fuck, I better treat her right or she's going to go. No friend's going to stick around for this treatment."
Q: Did you know anything about rock music, Yoko, when you first met John?"
YOKO: "I didn't know anything about rock music, or anything like it. I thought of rock songs as something a bit lower than poetry. It was like reading poetry that had a definite rhythm to it."
JOHN: "She used to say, "Why are you doing the same beat all the time?' I used to get very irritated."
Q: "What were your feelings about art and the art world at that time?"
JOHN: "Well, I went to art school and I thought that was the art world, virtually. And they're all such pretentious hypocrites. There was no artist I admired, except for maybe Dali or someone from the past. And when I read the art reviews... I couldn't understand why I wasn't being reviewed for my art, because I always felt like an artist.
"So I went to her show. I was thinking, 'Fucking artist shit. It's all bullshit.' But then there were so many good jokes in it, real good eye-openers."
YOKO: "That's another thing, most artists don't have a sense of humor."
JOHN: "And there was a sense of humor in her work, you know? It was funny. Her work really made me laugh, some of it. So that's when I got interested in art again, just through her work."
YOKO: "All the men I met, I felt they were more pretentious than me, hypocritical, narrower than me, and not genuine. And I'm talented. Because I can compose, I can paint, I can be in many fields. Most men that I met were bragging about their professionalism in one field."
JOHN: "They get one idea and flog it to death, and become famous on one idea."
YOKO: "And fucking conservative, you know? And they talk about women not having a sense of humor. I used to despise every man that I met. I was thinking, 'There's something wrong with me, because everybody hated me for it.' And then I met this man, and for the first time I got the fright of my life because here was a man who was just as genuine, maybe more genuine than me. He's very genuine. And he can do anything I can do, which is very unusual. And I got surprised. And that happened at the first meeting."
JOHN: "It took me a long time to get used to it. Any woman I could shout down. Most of my arguments used to be a question of who could shout the loudest. Normally I could win, whether I was right or wrong, especially if the argument was with a woman -- they'd just give in. But she didn't. She'd go on and on and on, until I understood it. Then I had to treat her with respect."
Q: "Yoko, did you have any idea of what the Beatles' life had been like, on tours for example?"
JOHN: "She was really shocked. I thought the art world was loose, you know? And when I started telling her about what our life was like, she couldn't believe it."
YOKO: "I came from a different generation. I mean, my friends didn't want me to know they smoked pot, you know? So I thought 'Oh, he's an artist. He's probably had two or three affairs.' Then I heard the whole story and I thought, 'My God!'"
JOHN: "She was just like this silly Eastern nun wandering about, thinking it was all spiritual."
YOKO: "He once said to me, 'Well, were you a groupie in the art world?' I said, 'What's a groupie?'"
JOHN: "So I said, 'Just tell me. I don't want to go 'round and fucking Picasso or someone comes up and says, 'Yes, I've had her.'"
YOKO: "And I really didn't know the word 'groupie.'"
JOHN: "So anyway, I'd been dying to tell her about the 'raving' on tour. I just wanted her to know what a scene it was. I thought it was silly not to say it. And of course the people with us were living like fucking emperors when we were locked in our rooms. That's why they cling so much to the past."
Q: "Talking of your entourage, do you resent it that so many people take credit for their contributions to the Beatles?"
JOHN: "Well, there was an article on George Martin in Melody Maker -- he's telling all these stories. He says, well, I showed them how to play feedback, or put tape loops together, or some arbitrary little technical thing... Where is the great talent of George Martin and Derek Taylor, and the legacy of Brian Epstein? Where is their talent?"
YOKO: "It's like my ex-husband saying that he sacrificed his talent for me, or something."
JOHN: "Well, I never had anything against George Martin. I just didn't like all the rumors that he actually was the brains behind the Beatles. I can't stand that."
Q: "Let's talk about Brian Epstein, your first manager. What did you think of him?"
JOHN: " I liked Brian. I had a very close relationship with him for years, like I have with Allen, because I'm not going to have some stranger running the scene, that's all. I was close with Brian, as close as you can get with someone who lives sort of the fag life, and you don't really know what they're doing on the side. But in the group I was closest to him. He had great qualities and was good fun.
"He was a theatrical man rather than a businessman, and with us he was a bit like that. He literally fucking cleaned us up. And there were great fights between him and me, over years and years, of me not wanting to dress up. He and Paul had some kind of collusion... to keep me straight. Because I kept spoiling the image, like the time I beat up a guy at Paul's twenty-first. I nearly killed him, because he insinuated that me and Brian had an affair in Spain. I was out of me mind.
What I think about the Beatles is that even if there had been Paul and John and two other people, we'd never have been the Beatles. It had to take that combination of Paul, John, George and Ringo to make the Beatles. There's no such thing as 'Well, John and Paul wrote all the songs, therefore they contributed more.' because if it hadn't been us we would have got songs from somewhere else. And Brian contributed as much as us in the early days, although we were the talent and he was the hustler."
Q: "So after Brian died you made 'Magical Mystery Tour.' You said Paul was acting as if he were going to take charge of everything?"
JOHN: "Well, I still felt, every now and then, that Brian would come in and say, 'It's time to record,' or 'Time to do this.' And then Paul started doing that -- 'Now we're going to make a movie,' or 'Now we're going to make a record.' And he assumed that if he didn't call us, nobody would ever make a record. Well, it's since shown that we managed quite well to make records on time. I don't have any schedule, I just think, 'Now I'll make it.' But in those days, Paul would say that now he felt like it. And suddenly I'd have to whip out 20 songs. He'd come in with about 20 good songs and say 'We're recording.' And I had to suddenly write a fucking stack of songs. Pepper was like that. Magical Mystery Tour was another. So I hastily did my bits for it and we went out on the road. And Paul did the thing for his album -- the big-timer, auditioning directors."
Q: Let's go back for a minute and talk about all the early influences on the Beatles. What would you say had the greatest effect on the group? Was it Liverpool? The Cavern? Hamburg? Did Hamburg really improve the playing?"
JOHN: "Oh, amazingly. Because before that we'd only been playing bits and pieces, but in Hamburg we had to play for hours and hours on end. Every song lasted 20 minutes and had 20 solos in it. We'd be playing eight or ten hours a night. And that's what improved the playing. Also, the Germans like heavy rock, so you have to keep rocking all the time, and that's how we got stomping. That's how it developed. That made the sound. Because we developed a sound by playing hours and hours and hours together."
Q: "You all must have found yourself playing in some unbelievably bad conditions."
JOHN: "Yeah, but it was still rather thrilling when you went onstage. A little frightening because it wasn't a dancehall, and all these people were sitting down, expecting something. And then they would tell us to 'mak show'. After the first night they said, 'You were terrible. You have to make a show -- Mak show!' So I put my guitar down and I did Gene Vincent all night. You know -- banging and lying on the floor and throwing the mic about and pretending I had a bad leg. They're all doing it now -- lying on the floor and banging the guitar and kicking things and just doing all that jazz.
"Then they moved us to another club, which was larger and where they danced. Paul would be doing 'What'd I Say' for an hour and a half. And these gangsters would come in -- the local mafia. They'd send a crate of champagne onstage... this imitation German champagne, and we had to drink it or they'd kill us. They'd say, 'Drink it and then do What'd I Say.' We'd have to do this other show, whatever time of night. If they came in at five in the morning and we'd been playing for seven hours, they'd give us a crate of champagne and we were supposed to carry on. We'd get pills off the waiters then, to keep awake. That's how all that started.
"I used to be so pissed I'd be lying on the floor behind the piano, drunk, while the rest of the group was playing. I'd just be onstage fast asleep. Some of the shows, I went on just in me underpants. I'd go on in underpants with a toilet seat 'round me neck, and all sorts of gear on. Out of me fucking mind!"
Q: When did you get into acid? Did Paul time his LSD announcement to coincide with the release of Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band?"
JOHN: "No. We'd had acid on Revolver. Everyone is under this illusion... even George Martin saying 'Pepper was their acid album,' but we'd had acid, including Paul, by the time Revolver was finished."
Q: "So why did he make that big announcement?"
JOHN: "Because the press had cornered him. I don't know how they found out about him taking it. But that was a year after we'd all taken it. Rubber Soul was our pot album, and Revolver was acid. I mean, we weren't all stoned making Rubber Soul because in those days we couldn't work on pot. We never recorded under acid or anything like that. It's like saying, 'Did Dylan Thomas write Under Milk Wood on beer?' What the fuck does that have to do with it? The beer is to prevent the rest of the world from crowding in on him. The drugs are to prevent the rest of the world from crowding in on you. They don't make you write better. I never wrote any better stuff because I was on acid or not on acid."
Q: "Did the fact that Sergeant Pepper inspired so many people to try LSD surprise you?"
JOHN: "Well, I never felt that Haight-Ashbury was a direct result. It always seemed to me that all sorts of things were happening at once. The acid thing in America was going on long before Pepper. Leary was going around saying, 'Take it, take it, take it.' We followed his instruction. I did it just like he said in the Book Of The Dead, and then I wrote Tomorrow Never Knows,' which is on Revolver, and which was almost the first acid song -- 'Lay down all thought, surrender to the void' -- and all that shit. Do you remember if Paul's statement on acid came out after Sergeant Pepper?"
Q: "Just as it was released."
JOHN: "I see. He always times his big announcements right on the letter, doesn't he. Like leaving the Beatles. Maybe it's instinctive. It probably is. Anyway, 'Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds' is not about LSD. And Henry the Horse is not about smack on Sergeant Pepper, because I'd never even seen it when we made Sergeant Pepper. But those kinds of stories evolved from it -- people thought if you listened to it backwards it said 'Paul is dead.' All that shit is just gobbledygook."
Q: "Still, many who got into acid might never have followed Timothy Leary but did follow the Beatles."
JOHN: "Well, blame it on Dylan. He turned us onto pot."
Q: "Having written so much with Paul, do you think it's possible for there to be some type of settlement, outside of business?"
JOHN: "Well, there's no way for it to be settled 'outside business,' because it all gets down to who owns a bit of what. It's a house we own together, and there's no way of settling it, unless we all decide to live in it together. It has to be sold."
Q: "Have you missed writing songs with him?"
JOHN: "No I haven't. I wrote alone in the early days. We used to write separately. He used to write songs before I even started writing songs. I think he did. And we'd written separately for years. I wrote 'Help.' I wrote 'A Hard Day's Night.' He wrote 'Yesterday.' They'd been separate for years.
"In the early days we'd write together for fun, and later on for convenience to get so many numbers out for an album. But our best songs were always written alone. And things like 'A Day In The Life' was just my song and his song stuck together. I mean we used to sit down and finish off each other's songs. You know, you could have three quarters of a song finished and we'd just sit together, bring ten songs each, and finish off the tail ends, and put middle eights in ones that you couldn't be bothered fixing, because they weren't all that good anyway.
"We usually got together on songs that were less interesting. Now and then we'd write together from scratch. 'I Want To Hold Your Hand,' things like that were done like that. But we'd been working apart ever since we were working together. It was only news to the public that a lot of Lennon-McCartney songs weren't Lennon-McCartney. That was something we'd agreed on years ago."
Q: "Do you think it was a mistake in retrospect to have named everything Lennon-McCartney?"
JOHN: "No, I don't, because it worked very well and it was useful. Then it was useful, so it was quite good fun. I've nothing against it."
Q: "If you got, I don't know what the right phrase is... 'back together' now, what would be the nature of it?"
JOHN: "Well, it's like saying, if you were back in your mother's womb... I don't fucking know. What can I answer? It will never happen, so there's no use contemplating it. Even if I became friends with Paul again, I'd never write with him again. There's no point. I write with Yoko because she's in the same room with me."
YOKO: "And we're living together."
JOHN: "So it's natural. I was living with Paul then, so I wrote with him. It's whoever you're living with. He writes with Linda. He's living with her. It's just natural."
Source: Transcribed by www.beatlesinterviews.org from original magazine issue
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spidernerdsblog · 4 years
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I Forgot That You Existed : Epilogue
A/N: . And this is the end of the series really enjoyed writing this. Hope you all enjoyed it too. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.
Pairing : Tom Holland × Singer reader
Summary : It’s been more than five years since you and Tom have gone their own ways after a heartbreaking breakup which had left both of you shattered. Both of you thought that you were finally over with each other and were happy in your respective lives until you meet again at a reunion trip planned by your best friend and you realize you are still not done with each other.
Warnings : mild swearing.
Mini Playlist : London boy and Lover by Taylor Swift
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"The news is just loving you." You chuckled sitting on the kitchen counter scrolling on your phone. Tom grimaced. 
"Just check out the headlines" 
Trouble in paradise 
Wedding a PR stunt? You read out. 
"My PR team is so pissed at me right now they are on the edge to handle this whole mess." 
You were scrolling through your feed as you stumbled upon a photo of yours with Tom posted by a fan account. It was a recent photograph from the carnival where you are seen holding hands walking through the crowd. It was a backshot but it did leave little to anyone's imagination that it was you and Tom. Whoever posted it wrote with the caption. 
Is it?? Are they?? OMG!! 😲😍
"Oh fuck me!!" You cursed. 
"Darling I would love to do that but I'm sort of busy right now with making you breakfast." You gave him a dirty look and shoved your phone to his face. 
"Look at this." Tom was puzzled at first then slowly his eyes widened with shock as he took a look at the photo. 
"What the fuck!!" 
"I'm so dead Alex is gonna eat me alive." You face palmed. 
"How did they even get this?" 
"How can I know?! Someone must have spotted us and clicked it." 
"What do we do now? There is no way people are gonna believe that we aren't in a relationship." 
"I'm in no place to take in the hate so…" you got busy with your phone. 
"Wait what are you doing?" 
"Nothing just desperate times calls for desperate measures." Being in this industry one thing you have realized is that people will believe anything posted online and Alex has taught you a few tricks to handle these kinds of situations. So before people start making a fuss about that photo you decided to share some photos from the vacation on your Instagram. The first photo you posted was of you, Tom and Harrison which you captioned 
Best friends for life!!💕🍻
You posted a few more including one from the carnival too. 
"Well disaster averted temporarily. We can clarify things further in interviews."You winked, showing him your phone. Tom stood in between your legs wrapping his hands around your waist. 
"My girlfriend is a genius." 
"That I am." You smirked. 
"Can't you stay a little longer?" he pouted. 
"Tom are you serious? I already extended my stay by one week for you. If I stay any further Alex will just kill me. And don't you have a press tour coming up?"
"Yeah fine will miss you though."
"Me too" you pecked his lips. 
"By the way I was serious about that before, you know in the kitchen." he drew circles on your skin. 
"I didn't say no either" you bite your lower lip batting your eyelashes innocently. Tom tightened his grip on your waist, peppering you with kisses on your neck you squeaked as he lifted you from the counter. 
Three Years later….. 
"Y/N just relax." Zendaya said. You were pacing in your bridal suite. 
"I can't, this is just too much to handle, do you think I should run away? Tom will understand right?" you blabbered. 
"Y/N it's totally normal to get cold feet for the bride to be before her marriage." Elysia tried to calm you down. 
"And if you faint on the aisle, your maid of honor and the other bridesmaids will be honored to catch you." Zendaya chuckled. 
"Not helping Z." You deadpanned. 
"Umm Elysia you seemed quite calm when you and Sam got married how was that so?" 
"Believe me girl I was nervous as hell. All sorts of doubts started hovering in my head like what if this is a mistake? What if all goes wrong? But once when I was at the aisle and saw his face all my doubts cleared away. This is the man I love and spending my life with him will be the best thing in the world. Whatever may come in our way we will overcome it together." 
"Wow that's a great insight." 
"You got this girl! " Chloe cheered you whilst fixing your dress. 
"How is the bride doing?" El enquired as she entered into your room with a jovial smile. 
"Oh hi El!" you eagerly went and hugged her. 
"Hi darling!" 
"You're late by the way." You quipped. 
"I'm sorry dear the flight got delayed." 
"Girl you seem to be doing much better than your groom. I just happened to pass by your husband and by his looks he seemed like he would shit in his pants any moment." You all burst out laughing. 
When the news of your wedding broke out it became the talk of the town. 
You wanted it to be a private affair away from the prying eyes of the media. So what's better than getting married in the peace and serenity of the countryside in the presence of your close friends and family. 
The aisle was beautifully decorated with white lilies and roses. 
Tom was shuffling on his feet at the aisle. 
"Dude everything is fine, stop worrying. She will be here in a few minutes." Harry tried to boost his confidence. 
"You know Y/N is a sort of fickle minded what if she had a change of mind?" Harrison chuckled. 
"You know what Harrison? You are the worst man." Tom grumbled. Harrison laughed. 
Finally, the priest came out and asked everyone to stand. It was your turn! All eyes would soon be on you.  Chloe and Ed's three year old daughter Belle was your flower girl for the wedding. She looked cute in a pink gown as she walked on her little feet lining the path with white rose petals as the music started. 
You only took two steps out before you were greeted by your father. He escorted you down the aisle. He became your strength; without him you would have fainted you thought. The guests looked at you, taking pictures of your dress, waving at you, smiling- one thing was for sure, though… no one made a sound. 
Up ahead you saw him, Tom. Your future husband, the love of your life, your everything. He stood taller, his shoulders back and his eyes on you. If you weren’t mistaken you could have sworn tears filled his eyes.
Tom stood there hypnotized seeing you in that pristine white wedding dress you looked like a dream he thought as you walked towards him. 
At the end of the aisle your father hugged you 
“I'm proud of you jellybean” it was a kind of emotional moment for you as a few tears slipped down your eyes so as your father's and then he presented you to your groom. He placed your hand in Tom’s and smiled. As a couple, Tom and you stood in front of the priest.
Before your father walked away, he patted Tom on the shoulder. That was his way of welcoming him into the family. 
Standing next to your love felt overwhelming. You glanced at each other for a moment. 
"You look beautiful." Tom mouthed to you. 
"You too." You mouthed him back with a wink. 
Elysia was right you thought, an unknown excitement surging inside you. 
Was this really happening? Will I soon be Mrs. Holland? You thought. 
The minister said to guests, “You can now be seated”. Everyone followed his request.
“Dearly beloved,” he began, “we are gathered here to witness this man and woman join together in holy matrimony.”
He said the speech and afterward you exchanged vows, tears filling both your eyes.
Paddy walked in with Tessa who had your rings in a basket she was holding in her mouth. Everyone went 'aww!' as she looked adorable in a wedding tutu walking over to the aisle. You placed Tom's ring on first, then he placed on yours.
“With the power invested in me I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Tom leaned in and kissed you,softly like he’s never done it before. Everyone cheered for you, however you barely noticed; your full attention rested on Tom. 
And you left the stage with Tom hand in hand. Though you were against doing any kind of wedding tradition but your bridesmaids were adamant for the bouquet ceremony so you had to give in to that. They lined behind you. 
"Okay girls you ready?!" You tossed the bouquet. You turned to see Zendaya had caught it. 
"I knew it was your turn next." You cackled.
"This is not done. We could have done the garter ceremony too; it would have been so much fun." Harrison complained. 
"I think you guys had your fair share of fun on the Bachelorette with all the booze and that stripper that by the way our parents aren't aware of" you muttered with a stern look in your eyes. Harrison gulped because he was behind the whole Bachelorette fiasco. 
"Yeah we are fine." he said timidly. 
You went to change to something more comfortable for the reception. 
The lawn buzzed with excited chatter and children ran between the tables in a good natured game of tag. There was the scraping of chairs as folks got up for a standing ovation as you and Tom made your way to the head table, smiling and holding hands. There were cheers and someone whooped.
 As the evening progressed everybody had loosened up a bit. People were chatting, eating and enjoying the reception. 
"Finally the number of women are increasing in the Holland family." Elysia announced. Everyone laughed.
"Ah! seeing you two together really makes us happy" Nikki said. 
"Yeah now it's time you give us our grandchildren too." Your mother joked. You and Tom flustered at that. 
"Moomm!! we just got married. We are too young for that, let us enjoy this time." You whined. 
"Honey I had you when I was 25. No pressure though take your time." 
It was the time for your first dance with Tom,your friends pulled you both to the stage, a soft music was playing. You held his hand, his other hand resting on your waist as you swayed to the music. 
"So how are you feeling wifey or may I say Mrs Holland?" 
"Umm the weather is a little warm, feeling a little bloated other than that I'm doing fine hubby." You chuckled. 
"You know I was so nervous I actually thought what if you changed your mind about the wedding?" 
"Not gonna lie I was actually thinking of running away." You smirked. You exhaled resting your head on his chest swaying to the music. 
"Hey you okay?" 
"Yeah why?" 
"Nothing, just all that baby talk." 
"Hey it's totally fine I'm way over that. And I would love to be a mom again but not now." 
"Just imagine you me and our four little halflings. We could have two girls and two boys or three girls,one boy or a pack of four boys like us or.." You cut him off. 
"Whoa whoa whoa slow down mister. First of all we are not having more than two.'' 
"But why? I'm totally gonna be a hands-on dad I promise."
"Easy for you to say because I will be the one going through the whole birthing process. So no uterus no opinion. And isn't that why Thanos snapped in the first place overpopulation, limited resources." You chuckled, snapping your fingers. Tom shook his head laughing.
"I would be so glad if I have twins all the hassle in one time." 
"Whatever you want darling. You know how much I love you." 
"I know and I love you too." 
"Okay how about three if not four?" He suggested. 
"If we are to count you, I'll have three kids to look after so your wish is fulfilled already." You laughed. 
As the reception was drawing close you went up the stage tapping on the microphone to seek everybody's attention. 
"Good evening everyone. First of all, I really wanna thank each and everyone for blessing us with your presence at our wedding and making it memorable." 
"Tom and I have known each other since we were kids. Our mother's were convinced that we would end up together and so we did though we had to go through our own rough patch. But I'm glad that eventually everything got sorted out and the credit goes to our families and friends." 
"It's no secret I write songs taking inspiration from my life and Tom has been a major part of my life. So this is for you hubby."
The band played the notes as you started singing. 
"I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal
And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey
But something happened, I heard him laughing
I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent
They say home is where the heart is
But that's not where mine lives"
Everyone clapped and cheered. Tom's whole face lit up as he looked at you. 
"You know I love a London boy
I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon
He likes my American smile
Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you
Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates
So I guess all the rumors are true
You know I love a London boy
Boy, I fancy you (ooh)"
Tom was blushing at his seat as Harrison elbowed him in a teasing manner. You had a wide smile as you looked at him. 
"And now I love high tea, stories from uni, and the West End
You can find me in the pub, we are watching rugby with his school friends
Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride
Babe, don't threaten me with a good time
They say home is where the heart is
But God, I love the English"
You took the microphone in your hand singing and walked over to Tom extending your hand to him. He took it and got up from his seat as you walked him over to the middle of the stage. 
"You know I love a London boy
I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon
He likes my American smile
Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you
Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates
So I guess all the rumors are true
You know I love a London boy
Boy, I fancy you"
You stood there glancing at his eyes. 
"So please show me Hackney
Doesn't have to be Louis V up on Bond Street
Just wanna be with you
Wanna be with you
Stick with me, I'm your queen
Like a Tennessee Stella McCartney on the Heath
Just wanna be with you (wanna be with you)
Wanna be with you (oh)
You know I love a London boy
I enjoy walking SoHo, drinking in the afternoon (yeah)
He likes my American smile
Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you (you)
Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates
So I guess all the rumors are true (yeah)
You know I love a London boy (oh)
Boy (oh), I fancy you (I fancy you, ooh)"
Present day…. 
"And that is how your mum and dad got married kids." Harrison finished his story letting out a deep breath. 
"Wow uncle Haz that was epic!" Your seven year old daughter chirped in awe. 
"Yup everything was epic with those divs."  
"We are back!" Tom announced as you both entered your house. 
"Peter! Vienna! Where are my pumpkins?" you called out as you heard shuffling of feets and giggles. 
"Mommy!! Daddy!!" your little munchkins came running to you. 
"There they are."  You cooed. Your five year old son launched himself into your arms as you picked him up. 
"Did you have fun with your uncles?" 
"Yess!!" Peter said beaming with joy. 
"Uncle Haz and uncle Harry were telling us a story." Vienna informed you. 
"What story bubs?" 
"Your and daddy's love story." You and Tom looked at each other smiling. 
"Oh really? I hope they didn't go much into the details keeping it kids friendly." 
"Of course Y/N you really don't trust us do you?" Harry said feeling offended.
"To be honest, No" you replied bluntly. 
"Where's Ava and Jordan?" you asked whilst putting Peter down. 
"They are with their moms at mum and dad's house helping with dinner." Harry said. 
"Okay then let's get you guys ready and then we will go to grandma's for the Christmas Dinner eh?" Tom said to your kids. 
"Yayy!!" Vienna and Peter rushed back to their room.
You were at the doorstep as you rang the bell as you were greeted by Nikki. 
"You guys are late." 
"Sorry, someone was way too confident about his navigation skills so had to take a detour." You eyed Tom. 
"That wasn't completely my fault. How would I know that the road would be closed?" Tom retorted. 
"It's Christmas time Tom! Everyone knows." You both started arguing at the doorstep. 
"Then why didn't you tell me?" 
"Okay that's enough for now, God you two  have been married for almost 10 years and still your non stop bickering continues." Nikki scolded you both. 
''You got all the things I told you to bring?'' 
"Yes mum." Tom said sheepishly. 
"Merry Christmas grandma!!'' Vienna and Peter came rushing in clinging on to her. 
"Aww Merry Christmas my loves. C'mon get inside all your cousins are waiting for you." 
After the dinner all you ladies gathered in the living room and gossiped among yourselves and your husbands were chugging on to their beers and having their share of laughs in the dining room. 
The kids were busy playing amongst themselves.
Vienna came up to you and tugged on to the sleeve of your sweater. You turned to look at her brown doe eyes which she totally inherited from Tom along with her luscious curls. She was a stark image of him. 
"Do you need something peanut?" 
"Mom, will you sing for us? Pleaasse." she innocently asked, making a puppy face the trick she had picked up from her dad in the meantime. And how could you say no to that. 
"Anything for you honey. Can you bring me my guitar love?" 
"Sure mom." Vienna beamed with joy as she ran to bring your guitar. You slipped down the couch to sit on the carpeted floor stretching your legs as you strummed on to the chords. 
"We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January
This is our place, we make the rules
And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear
Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?
Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close forever and ever?
And ah, take me out, and take me home
You're my, my, my, my lover"
Vienna sat beside you. You swayed sideways while singing to her. Vienna tried to sing along with you clapping her hands to the rhythm. Peter came running and settled down on the other side of you resting his head on your lap. You stroked his hair with your hand gently. 
"We could let our friends crash in the living room
This is our place, we make the call
And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you
I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all
Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close forever and ever?
And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)
You're my, my, my, my lover"
The boys heard you singing as they got up and flocked in the living room. You glanced at Tom standing at the doorway smiling and gave him a subtle wink. He can never get enough of you, every time he looks at you he falls in love again and again. Sometimes he wonders how did he get so lucky? You were perfect, who gave him the two most precious gifts of his life. His heart swells when he looks at his little family. You make him whole. 
"Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?
With every guitar string scar on my hand
I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover
My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue
All's well that ends well to end up with you
Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover
And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me
And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover"
Tom walked towards you and picked up Peter making him sit on his lap as he sat beside you. His one hand went to wrap around your shoulder as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek, you looked at him smiling. You were so proud of this man, the perfect husband, the doting father to your children you didn't have words to express. Tom rested his head on your shoulder, Vienna and Peter clinged on to you as you sang. You felt full from the inside out. 
'' Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close forever and ever?
And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)
You're my, my, my, my
Oh, you're my, my, my, my
Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover"
.................................................................
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ciggylungz · 4 years
Text
Summer bummer pt.2
y/n x harry pairing
summary- y/n and Harry are part of a cast of a reality show called ‘summer bummer’ that’s a uk version of the jersey shore and things are chaotic
pnot proofread, not sure if its any good pt.2
_3.9k words
 Waking up smooshed between a warm body and a hard wooden wall was what Y/n was currently experiencing, but soon the pounding headache and nausea took the front seat in her brain as she let out a low groan shifting in the hold of the man beside her as she sat up rubbing her eyes, mascara from the night before flaking onto her fist getting another irritated groan to bubble in her throat.
“quiet, try’n sleep here” Harry mumbled and turned over as she climbed out of his bed yawning and stumbling to the bathroom, peeing and taking off her messy makeup from the night before, taking a quick shower and going back upstairs to her shared room to change into some comfy shorts and a big sweatshirt pulling the hood over her damp hair to help block the brightness that’s making her head pound like a drum.
Y/n made her way into the confessional room, sitting on the couch in front of the green screen and turning on the camera the producers had there for them to do their periodic self interviews.
“so it’s like noon, I just woke up and I realized ‘holy shit, im in bed with Harry’…” she made a point to tilt her head and widen her eyes at the camera showing her bit of shock at the situation. “I was blackout wasted last night, the last thing I remember was dancing and making out with him so I’m gonna wait till he’s up to ask if we did the deed or not because I don’t remember, god first day in the house and I’m already blacking out.” She paused to laugh at herself a little before continuing, “ugh, we’ll see. My moms gonna kill me when she see this episode_- fuck_”
She sighed as she turned off the camera and went back out into the living room where some of her roommates were, all of them sleepy and hungover chatting to themselves but Y/n raised an eyebrow when she noticed Tommy give her a side eye and stop talking when she walked into the room, the camera men that were in the house filming panning their cameras between the two young adults.
“what? Why are you looking at me like that?” she didn’t waste any time in brining attention to his behavior, not in the mood for the pricks little attitude problem getting a scoff and a snarky little turn of his lips as he waved her off like a dog, and Y/n was having none of it. She stood up straighter, squaring her shoulders and pointing at the man. “Obviously you have a fucking problem so say it, fuck are you acting like a little bitch for? Thought you were a fucking tough guy.” She wasn’t scared of that guy In the slightest, he had the most punch worthy face she’s ever seen and god was he making the urge more prominent with every move of his ugly face.
“shut the fuck up bitch, you talk too fucking much. You talked shit about me at the club last night, probably just mad because I was making out with other girls and not giving your ugly ass any fucking attention you stupid bitch.” He glared at her giving her a disrespectful little smile and every other person in the room was now staring at the pair, engaged and waiting on the edge of their seats for what was gonna happen next.
Y/n couldn’t stop the laugh that came from her mouth, looking at Tommy like he was the stupidest person on the planet, because right now he sure did fit the description. “You’re joking right? I was saying how I felt sorry for those girls because you’re such a piece of shit wanker. You hit on me from the moment I walked in this house and pouty like a fucking baby when I told you to fuck off after dinner, it was on camera you prick. I’m perfectly content having you and your non existent lips far away from me.”
She was annoyed, but also amused. This guy had no fucking clue how much everyone already hated him and she loved it. He stayed silent for a minute and she took the chance to get closer to him pointing her finger right in his face, making eye contact with him, “watch who the fuck you call a bitch around here Tommy because I’ll punch you right in your smug fucking mouth, lets see how much of a tough guy you are when you get your teeth knocked in by a fucking girl.”
At this point Ryan was up off the couch and making his way between the two when he saw both of them getting even more agitated, Tom standing up and Y/n refusing to back down as he tried to intimidate her.
“alright guys, chill out. Drop it, it’s not a big deal don’t fight over stupid shit like this.” Ryan stuck his arm between them Tommy trying to push it away while Y/n started to tie up her hair yelling back and fourth with him as Ryan tried to keep them apart. “what you gonna fucking hit me Tom? Huh? You gonna hit a girl? Makes sense, you’re a pussy and act so tough till you’re throwing a tantrum when you don’t get your way. Gonna go cry to mommy because I didn’t want anything to do with you or your 2 inch dick?”
This comment of course got the reaction she was hoping, his face grew red and his body tensed just making her smirk more. “the fuck did you just say to me?” he was pissed, and Y/n was loving how she got him so mad over her comment, that’s how she knew she struck a nerve because it was definitely true. She even got some laughs from the roommates who were sitting around watching the show. Ryan turned so his left arm and part of his body was between them, looking at Tommy raising an eyebrow at him. “Watch it mate, you’re on thin ice. Lay a hand on a female in this house and you’ll never get to walk this earth again.”
Tommy clenched his jaw flickering his eyes between Ryan and Y/n like an angry child who didn’t get their way, and god was Y/n loving how he’s embarrassing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.
The pair continued to argue back and fourth, him trying to insult her and her pushing his buttons – (because lets face it, he was too damn easy)- and in the midst of it Harry decided to emerge from his room, hair a mess and all sleepy. His tattoos were on full display as his shirtless body started advancing towards the arguing duo. Y/n gasped when Harry pushed her back a bit to get right in Toms face using his large body to completely cover Y/n’s as he looked down at Tommy with stone cold eyes.
“Mate I suggest you fucking keep it moving because I’m not gonna put up with you being disrespectful to anyone in this house, let alone a younger girl who didn’t do anything to you. I won’t let her fight you, but I sure as hell have no problem pounding your face in. Step off before I make you, I promise you that you don’t want that.”
Harry’s tone was serious, his muscles were taunt and flexed as he towered over the other man. Tommy of course tried to play it off and muttered a ‘whatever asshole’ as he sulked off to his room, but everyone in there knew he was almost shitting his pants from how afraid he was of Harry.
Everyone took a second to take everything in before they really spoke. Ryan gave Harry a pat on the back, “Thanks mate, dudes a proper prick. And Y/n, you’re a bad ass fuckin’ girl, that was crazy!” he chuckled and shook his head, plopping down on the couch again as Harry turned to the girl raising and eyebrow as he looked down at her. “try to not get yourself involved in any more trouble, at least until I’ve had some fucking coffee. Was sleeping love, bit rude to wake me up for a brawl.”
Y/n laughed a little and pushed his chest, “Hey! I didn’t wake you up, I could have taken him I didn’t need you to jump in.” she put her hands on her hips and gave him a sassy little face, the man laughing in return. “ ‘m sure you could have, babbled last night about how you’re brothers taught you boxing growing up, but if that kid was to try to fight you I’d go down for a murder charge. Me mum taught me to respect women and women beaters aren’t in my good graces. Now you, miss thang need to keep your ass out of problems.”
Harry gave her the stern bossy eyes and she caved, nodding her head and pouting a little as he went into the kitchen and grabbed himself a Gatorade and some crackers nodding his head to the deck door,           “ ‘cmere rocky, need to talk to you.” Harry teased her with the name, getting laughs from everyone including her as she walked out on the deck with him sitting down on one of the couches as he fed himself.
“need to talk to you about last night.” He mumbled through a mouthful of sports drink getting a nod from Y/n as she tried her best to ignore the camera getting a little too close for comfort. “Wanted to ask you about it too, was waiting till you got up..i’m just gonna ask, did we bang?” she twisted her stray hairs around her pointer finger as she asked, slightly nervous for the answer.
Harry shook his head laughing a little bit to himself. “Nope, told you I wasn’t gonna do anything when you were drunk unless I talked to sober you about it first. Plus, love if we would have fucked you would still feel me. wouldn’t have to ask because your trouble walking would answer that question for you sweetheart.” Harry wore a slight smirk on his lips as he said it, watching the younger girl roll her eyes and lick over her lips. “god you’re such a boy.”
“No, sweetheart. I’m a man, a gentlemen actually. Not like the little boys where you’re from, I’m a grown man love and I’m cocky because I know I have the skills to back it up. Maybe you’ll get lucky to experience that yourself sometimes little girl.”
Y/n was a bit in shock. She was turned on, overwhelmed and a little bit offended by his attitude but god if she wasn’t turned on. “Oh my god. I can’t, guys are too much for me right now. I might have to take up Selena’s offer and become a lesbian over summer because you guys are stressing me out!”
Y/n smacked his arm playfully and Harry grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand to his mouth and kissing her knuckled. “Yea, let’s see how long that lasts since last night you were almost In tears any time I broke the kiss to open the damn door. You’ll be knocking at my door by the end of the week guarantee it.”
“Ok mister confidence, shut up.” Y/n covered her face with her hands to hide her smile and growing blush, both of them just talking about the night before until the camera crew left for a while before they were going to go out that night.
“hey Harry?” Y/n stood in his doorway, calling out his name as he rummaged through his suitcase to find whatever he was looking for. “Whatsup love?” he peered at her for a second to let her know he was listening before going back to what he was doing “about what you said, sober me says if neither of us come home with someone we can fool around a bit, you have my permission. Just know I fully plan on bringing someone home tonight and I already called the spare room. I wanna start my summer off with good booze and an orgasm.”
Harry let out a little snort, pulling the brush he was looking for out of his bag and turning to Y/n, “I’ll keep that in mind, good luck with your plans tonight, I hope you get your wish and don’t end up with some dude who doesn’t know where the clit is.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, “Don’t speak that into existence asshole, if he fails me I’ll just do it the old fashion way.” This got the mans attention and his eyes to meet hers, “Old fashion way?” he rubbed his stubbly chin a bit, moving the brush between his right and left hand, “yea, just masturbate in the shower or whatever. I brought some tools that could lend a helping hand in that. I’ll make do.”
Harry had to stop himself from groaning. His mind flashed with images of her in the shower using toys on herself, biting a wash cloth to keep quiet since everyone’s here. He was able to collect himself after a few seconds and give her a playful smile nodding “sounds like a plan love, now get out of here it’s time to get ready.”
__
The music was blaring and the booze running through Y/n’s system made it ten times better, she was dancing- not caring about anything as she danced on this nice looking guy she met and who she decided she was gonna bring back that night and occupy the spare room she’d already called. He was tall, dark hair, tan just a typical good looking guy and the vodka helped make him look more attractive. She just hoped that he could give her what she so desperately needed. A good fucking.
“ ‘cmon, lets go now so we have extra time before my roommates get back, I wanna play.”
Little else was said between the two as they darted out of the club and back to the shared house, clothes coming off quickly as they got up the steps and now she’s panting, groping her tits while the stranger who she can’t remember the name of is tongue deep in her cunt. He’s average at giving head, but she’s desperate and so horny she doesn’t care.
Her hips rock against his mouth as he brings her right to the edge before stopping, Y/n let out a loud protest at this feeling the coil that was forming in her stomach and about to come undone fade.
“what the hell?!” she was pissed, and between her legs was aching at this point from needing attention. “I’m sorry, mouth got tired and I wanna fuck you now..” the man slipped his shirt off while Y/n laid under him, irritated but hopeful his cock can give her the relief she really needs.
But just her luck, it doesn’t. He lasts 5 minutes before he’s cumming into the condom and panting leaving Y/n angry and horribly deprived, and so she wasted no time in kicking him out and storming into her room, grabbing her black vibrator she had brought and marching to the bathroom turning the shower on getting it nice and arm before she stepped in.
__
Y/n had her head resting against the tile as she sat on the shower floor, legs spread and vibrator rubbing up and down her needy slit while her free hand was plunging 2 fingers in and out of herself. She always loved being fingered, but she wishes her fingers were just a bit longer as she worked herself letting herself be loud since no one else was in the house, but she just couldn’t reach the spot she needed to. It was so close yet so far, and she was so upset she was almost close to tears.
She was in the middle of a fit of cursing everyone in existence when a knock on the bathroom door made her jump, her heart almost burst from surprise and now she was wondering how long she’s been in here since her roommates weren’t coming back till at least 6 am.
“Can I come in? it gotta pee” the voice on the other side of the door asked loudly so she could hear them over the water, and when she realized it was Harry she yelled out an agreement, as soon as he opened the door she peaked her head around from behind the curtain to look at him while still shielding her body.
Harry chuckled a little bit and gave her a funny look, “Can I take a leak in private please?”. Y/n groaned and stomped her foot on the shower floor like a child. “Fine! Please pee and then get in the shower with me, I’m so horny it literally hurts and that guy lasted 5 minutes and I swear to god if I don’t get to cum I’m going to cry please!”
Harry stared at her for a moment, letting her words sink in pushing his hair off his face and shrugging. “what do you want me to do love?” he could see just how desperate she was, eyes close to tears, lip stuck between her teeth and he felt both bad for her but also so fucking turned on.
“Anything, please finger me? play with me? please I need it my fingers aren’t long enough and you said you’d play with me, I’m not even that drunk please Harry.”
Y/n didn’t care about the cameras in the hall that were probably picking up the audio, or how desperate and crazy she sounded, she needed his touch.
“Okay..Okay doll relax, let me do what I need to do and then I’ll join you alright?”
Y/n nodded and moved back behind the curtain, she took her original place sitting on the cool tile floor of spacious shower as he went to the bathroom before stripping down to his boxers and pulling the curtain back seeing the younger girl naked, legs spread a bit giving him a glimpse of how swollen and flushed between her legs was letting him know she was probably a bit too rough on herself when she got frustrated, which only made her problem worse.
Her tits sat perky on her chest, her nipples pebbled with water droplets running down over them before dripping off onto her thighs. Harry let out a low groan at the sight, “Have m’ boxers on just because I’m not gonna fuck ya’ , honestly don’t think I even can because I got whiskey dick right now. Need to lay off the booze so I can take care of you properly next time. Cmon, stand up sweetheart.”
Harry held his hand out to the girl who took it, standing on wobbly legs as he stepped in the shower with her, skin tight black boxers covering his goods which disappointed her a bit but she couldn’t care too much since there was so much else going on.
His big hands ran up and down her back, thumbs digging into the dimples right at the base of her spine as he pulled her closer to him, kissing down her neck, mumbling into her skin about how pretty she is, and promising he’s going to make her feel better.
“Pussy is all swollen doll, gotta be careful. Don’t want you to hurt yourself just ‘cause you get frustrated, that’s no fun…” His voice was deep, slow and made her stomach tense from how it vibrated through her getting a whimper and tug on his wet matted locks.
“Talk to me darling..tell me what you want, tell me what you need baby” his fingers were trailing downward, squeezing her ass and brushing his finger tips on the backs on her thighs. “need you to touch me, please put your fingers in me I need it”
Her voice was pathetic and she knew it, she was needy to the highest capacity and almost let a ‘daddy’ slip through her lips but she managed to bite her tongue just in time. Harry hummed as he brough his right hand around her front, moving it between her thighs and coaxing them open wider while he brushed two digits up and down her slit, mouthing at her neck while he gets a feel for her exterior, taking the vibrator from her hand and setting it down on the rack holding their shampoos and soaps while he tapped the pad of his middle finger against her entrance before sinking it in.
Her reaction was immediate. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, a long relieved moan falling from her plush lips as he slipped a second one in with ease from how eager her body was. “Got t’ give me a minute to find tha’ special spot love, deep breaths don’t need ya’ passing out on me.” Harry was on a mission to find that spongey spot inside her that would have her cumming in no time, and Y/n was practically riding his fingers as she stood in his grip, her body going rigid when he pressed against the spot she needed the most attention on, mumbling a low “found it” as he pressed on it again, rubbing over it as he fucked his fingers in and out of the younger girl who was holding onto him for dear life as he massaged her G-spot with vigor.
“There you go, that’s a good girl Y/n you’re doin’ so good love, know you’re close can cum whenever you feel it. Know you need it baby, let go.”
Y/n could barely hear him as her body started to tingle, everything was muffled and her mind was hyper focused on the pleasure pulsing through her core. She was gearing up for a strong one, she hasn’t had one quite this big since the winter when she had a 4 week dry spell and finally got some action the day after Christmas, she soaked through the poor dudes sheets that night.
Her moans and gasps picked up, frequent bursts of pleasured moans passed her lips as she started to pant her nails digging into his tattooed shoulders while her held her to him so she didn’t fall.
“Doing so well, almost there huh? Almost there…” his fingers moved with purpose and unfaltering speed as he massaged her special spot faster, her legs becoming jelly as she started to cum. She couldn’t help the loud moan that shot out of her throat, Harry quickly grabbing the wash cloth and stuffing it in her mouth since he knew Ryan was here. He cooed in the girls ear, talking to her the entire time she was cumming feeling her cunt squeezing his digits while her own juices dribbled down his wrist.
She was dizzy, tired, spent and completely drained. She finally got what she needed and was now dead weight clinging to Harry who peppered her face with kisses as he withdrew his hand from her cunt rinsing her off down there and kissing her lips a few times.
“That was fucking amazing… god Harry you’re gonna make me fall in love with you with fingers like those…”
He only chuckled at her dazed comment before shutting the water off, wrapping the girl in a towel and sitting her down on the counter
“Lucky for you, you have all summer to do so, I might just be up for it too.”
143 notes · View notes
btsslowburnfic · 4 years
Text
BTBY Chapter 5
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Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.
Chapter Summary: Practice Day 2. There’s some electricity in the air.
Previous chapter found here 
The morning goes as normal as it can for you. The studio is a little hectic with the extra clients from Robert’s studio but everyone is very cool about the changes.  You teach 2 yoga classes and sub out pilates. You decide to watch the BTS interviews while in your office; purely for professional purposes. Clearly. You hear a knock on the door, “Come in!” you yell as you scoop more oatmeal into your mouth. It’s Xavier.
“Hey babe,” he says carrying coffees.
“You are the best!” you yell from your desk. He looks over at the TV. 
“Oh yes, I like this.” he says as he watches the performance.
You laugh, “Oh my God you brat.” you walk to the other side of the desk and grab the iced coffee. “But...I’m not complaining either.
“Are you coming to my class?” he asks, stretching as he sits his drink on your desk.
“Yeah, my arm feels better, I’ll just baby it.” 
“Is lunch catered today? I can’t remember.”  he continues to do some warm up stretches.
“No. BTS is having lunch on the set of their last show so we’re on our own. Let’s get something delivered to Robert’s. We have to head there right after your class to meet the backup dancers. What do you want? I’ll schedule it now.” 
“What’s for dinner?” he asks.
You pull up the catering order “It looks like a Korean/Italian/American blend. I think each guy just  said what they wanted. There is no theme to this menu,” you laugh.
“Just order some burritos. Get one for Rafael too. And Joe. He might stop by.”
“Oooo your boyfriend and your bias in one place? Are you going to be able to handle that much sexiness?” you joke as you start typing in the food order.
He laughs, “ Honey please, Joe sat down with me last night and we watched like a hundred of their videos, why else do you think he’s going to stop by? Anyways. Enough about me…...Any updates on YOUR soulmate front? Did you tell Ben? Bribe a hotel staff member?” Xavier asks.
You audibly groan. “No,no, and I’m poor, what the hell am I gonna bribe someone with? Free Pilates class? I don’t think there’s going to be much to update considering my soulmate clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. And I haven’t told Ben. If I tell him I’d want to do it in person and I haven’t seen him yet.”
“What do you mean, “if”?”
“We agreed that we didn’t care about that thing when we started dating.” you shrug.
“Can’t we try and solve the mystery though?!?! You tracked him down to the hotel. Maybe we can go stake out the lobby or something….”
“That probably means he’s visiting from out of town and I’m never going to see him again. And we have a packed day. Dance class, set up the studio while we shovel burritos into our faces, and then rehearse with the back up dancers, and then rehearse with everyone.” You pack your half-lies into the truth about your full day. And you feel a little guilty. Maybe you should tell him. Maybe. Fuck it.
“Annnndddd I sort of already found out who it is?”
“WHAT?! WHAT WHAT WHAT!?!?!?! How? Did you go spy without me!??!?! How you dare (how you dare how you dare)” he gets distracted for a second breaking out into song. “But seriously, WHAT?!?!”
You are suddenly very sweaty and nervous as you try to form the words…”It’s uh...someone in BTS.”
“WHAT WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” he grabs your shoulders, coming face to face with you. “Are you being serious right now or are you fucking with me?!”
“Unfortunately I am being serious.”
“That means one of them is secretly an asshole...which one of them could it……” he trails off for a second, lost in thought, “Holy shit it’s RM isn’t it??!?!” he whispers dramatically as he pieces together the awkwardness of yesterday.
Your silence and scrunched up face confirm it.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“WOW”
“Yeah.”
“But he’s so nice and cool.”
You sigh, “Yeah to you and everyone else. Apparently he hates the whole “soul mate” thing on principle which is fine by me. I just need to get through these next few days and then we can part ways and continue on with our lives as normal.” you say. Like it’s the simplest thing in the world. If only. Xavier’s alarm goes off signaling 15 minutes to class.
“Well, way to drop a bomb on me right before class darling.” he jokes as he gathers up his phone and studio keys.
“I know, right? How do you think I felt walking into our meeting or that car yesterday?” you also gather your belongings. “36 more hours. Let’s just get through this.”
--------------------
The backup dancers all arrive on time and are prepped and ready. They run the dances several times through with Xavier. All of you had rehearsed a few times last week after Xavier’s dance class so the only real challenge today would be to run it with the group. You were glad you had got most of the dancers you requested; they were professionals who wouldn’t act like a bunch of idiots in front of famous people. Unlike Xavier. Who kept checking his watch.
“Are they here yet? I wanna see….” he says, peering down the hallway.
“Oh my God, it’s been ten minutes since you last checked. They are on a tight schedule and not supposed to be here yet. And see what?”
“The sparks of attraction and forbidden romance between you and RM.”
“Ew. No. Get away from me.” you shove him back into the studio. “And stop saying things, people might hear you. We are taking this shit to the grave.” you pull him close to you “TO THE GRAVE.” you hold up your pinky for a promise.
“Nope. I’m not promising shit.” he says and hops over to the console to talk to Rafael. 
Dammit. Oh well. At least one of you was enjoying this. You thought telling someone else would give you some relief, but so far it had just done nothing. If anything you were more nervous today because you’d had time to anticipate what this evening and tomorrow would be like. Ughhh. You go down to the kitchen and grab some coffee and graham crackers. You scroll through your phone enjoying the brief moments of silence before you go back upstairs and find your mind wandering to RM dancing yesterday and you feel your face flush.  You wish you could stop yourself but like with most things, the more you try not to think about them, the more you do. Dammmmit. You make sure light snacks and beverages are set up for the backup dancer break and head upstairs to relieve them for an hour. 
“Ok everyone! You have about an hour break. Please stay on premise. There are snacks and drinks on floor one as well as your green-room. Remember, if anyone takes pictures or recording once the band gets here, you are fired. This time it is written explicitly in our contract with them, got it?” you hear a bunch of “yeah’s” from the crowd. Like you said earlier, these were professionals in LA, they knew the drill. “Ok, I will come get you all when it’s time to rehearse again. Break.” you say, dismissing them.
“They look really good, great job Xavier,” you say as you walk over to the front of the room.
“Thanks! I can’t wait to see it all together.” he responds. “What do you need help with?” 
“I just have to get the lav mics set up again but they’re ready from yesterday You’ve been dancing for hours so why don’t you go grab some water?” you say.
“Okie dokie doll. Come grab me when you need me,” he says as he picks up his satchel and heads downstairs.
“Rafael, do you need anything?” you ask your other coworker.
“Me?Nope. Just looking forward to the group getting here so I can do more than just look pretty.” he smiles at you.
“You know what, same?” you laugh. 
“Do you need anything from downstairs?” he asks as he steps down from the booth.
“No, I’m fine, thanks!” You wave him away as you get the room reset in preparation for the group’s arrival. You put on some BTS music while you clean up random water bottles and towels. 
You are in your own zone singing along when you look up and see RM standing in the doorway and you give a light shriek. “Shit fuck. Sorry. You scared me.” You scurry over to the console and turn the music off.
“Nice taste in music,” he smirks at you.
“Thanks, just doing my research. You’re here early.” you say double checking your watch. 
He fumbles with his hands and seems way less confident than usual and you instantly wonder what the heck is going on. He seems so much different from yesterday, “Yeah. They'll be here soon. I just, uh. Wanted to talk to you. Now that I've had time to kind of process everything. "
"Oh. " you are extremely shocked. 
" I just want you to know that I don't dislike you. You're a great producer and you seem like a really nice person. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their soul mate. I'm just not into… that." he says as he looks mostly down and off to the side. 
You take a deep breath. This is not what you were expecting today. "Well thanks a lot. I appreciate it. Like I said, the whole thing is kind of weird and shitty for me too. You're a cool dude and you know, famous and hot, but I'm also not into the whole destiny thing. And apparently you’re not a total asshole." you agree as you continue to pick up the room. You hear him chuckle," What? "
"You think I'm hot,"
"Oh shut up, I'm sure you hear it all day, everyday from the internet." you tease as you wrap up the garbage bag." Here, I'll unlock your guys’ dressing room for you." you lead him down the hallway. "Can I grab you anything from the kitchen while you wait?” 
"No thanks, I'm going to read for a bit and yeah they should be here in about half an hour" 
You stand in the doorway for a minute to make sure everything is set up for the arrival. You suddenly become extremely aware of the fact RM is still standing right behind you in the doorway. “Ok well, I’ll bring the other up when they get here.” you feel your face blushing as you brush past him. It feels like you just got zapped by electricity. You ignore it and head downstairs to clean up after the backup dancers.
The rest of the afternoon goes according to plan with the group arriving and practicing solo again, with the dancers, and then with full audio and music. It looks amazing and you are impressed but also super irritated because you SHOULD be able to watch this at the actual venue tonight, not at a gym studio. 
Xavier sneaks up behind you during one of the breaks. “Soooo…...how’s it going?”
“I think they look amazing! Don’t you?”
“Yeah yeah they look fine. I meant about the other thing. You know….that thaaaaaanggg.” he wiggles his eyebrows.
“Oh God. No. There is nothing.”
“....don’t tell me that, he keeps staring at you.”
“Yeah probably because I’m the director. Everyone is staring at me.” you roll your eyes. 
“Really? Nothing new?” he asks and you sigh. 
“Oh my god, fiiiiiine. Here, let’s go get some coffee.” you grab a mic “Ok everyone, grab some water if you want and meet back here in ten for our last 2 sets and then we’ll review the plan for tomorrow. Break!” 
You grab Xavier’s arm and head down to the kitchen. “Coffee?” you ask.
“It’s 8 pm.” he responds.
“...iced coffee?” you amend.
“No. I don’t know how you can do that.” he wrinkles his nose at your late night caffeine habit.
You shrug and walk with him down the hallway to the locker room and shut the door, locking it. You give him an overview of what RM had said to you earlier in the afternoon. 
“I knew he wasn’t an asshole. The internet never lies.” 
“Ok but he WAS an asshole yesterday,” you roll your eyes and sip some coffee. “And then he accidentally touched me and it felt like I was mildly electrocuted and I kind of liked it and I AM CONFUSED.”
Xavier starts to laugh at you, “Yeah well that’s because everything with your soulmate is more intense. It goes along with the emotions and pain. What feels good also feels REALLY good if you know what I mean.”
“I touched him yesterday when putting his lav mic on and nothing happened soooo i don’t think your theory works but ok.” You pull out your phone to check the time.
“Oh no honey, my theory is spot on. And I predict if he wasn’t leaving in a few days y’all would be all up on each other. Bye Ben. Bye BTS. Hello sexy soulmate time.”
“Um No. Rude. I have a boyfriend. Also catering is here.” you put your phone back in your pocket.
“I HaVe a BoYfrIenD…” Xavier mocks you jokingly and you smack him as the two of you exit the locker room.
30ish hours. You could make it 30ish hours. NEXT CHAPTER
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vintagedolan · 4 years
Text
hello, I cannot get this concept out of my head and I HAVE to write it real quick, so pretend it’s december and enjoy okay roll with it
------
“You’re making me nervous as fuck,” Grayson said, squeezing your hand as you held it. You squeezed back, pulling a little bit and leading him to Ethan’s room. 
“Don’t be nervous!” You tried to sound casual, but you were freaking out too. This whole plan had been almost 6 months of planning, and you were amazed that it actually came together. 
“You know I hate not knowing what’s going on,” he groaned, obviously getting a little jittery. 
“It’s a good thing, I promise,” you reassured him, knocking on Ethan’s door. “E, come out here for a second!” You called, waiting for him to come out. When he did, it only took him one second of looking at Grayson to become suspicious.
“What’s happening...” 
“It’s a surprise, now shut up and come on,” you said, grabbing his hand and heading towards the living room.
Now it was your turn to be nervous. You checked your phone - it could be any minute now that security was texting you to tell you that the surprise was here. 
“Sit, sit down,” you guided them to the couch, letting go of their hands and having them sit down. 
“Okay so-”
“Fuck, I’m NERVOUS,” Ethan yelled, cutting you off in excitement.
“Shut up, let her talk!” Grayson slapped his shoulder, just wanting to know what was going on. You took a deep breath, starting the little speech you’d planned out. 
“Okay, so I know that you told me that you guys didn’t want anything for your birthday. And I technically didn’t get you anything, cause I didn’t spend any money, so you can’t be mad.” You said your little disclaimer, getting more nervous and you spoke. “But I set up a little surprise.”
That sent their jitters into overdrive - they were practically bouncing on the couch. Ethan actually wrapped his arms around Grayson’s shoulders for a bit of support, making you smile. Right on cue, your phone buzzed in your hand. You checked it even though you knew what it would say. 
he’s here, pulling up now
“And it just got here. So happy early birthday, just stay on the couch for a minute and try not to freak out.” 
“What did you do!? What do you mean it just got here! WHAT’S GOING ON.” 
All the yells came from both of them, overlapped to the point where you could barely say who was saying what. 
“Shhhh! You’re not gonna be able to hear the door!” You urged, trying to get them to calm down.
“So it’s coming to the door!” Ethan exclaimed, immediately jumping to his feet, Grayson right behind him. They ran to the door, peeking out of the glass on the sides.
“Bro whose car is that? Y/N whose car is that!?” Grayson yelled, looking back at you. Now you were just laughing, knowing that the surprise was only moments away. 
You stood back, knowing that you would know exactly when they figured it out. 
You watched them grab onto each other, looking at each other then back at you in utter disbelief. 
“You did not. Y/N, what the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK!” Ethan yelled, backing away from the door. 
“No way. No fucking way, this is not real. This is not happening,” Grayson said, eyes wider than you’d ever seen them. His hands went to his hair as he backed up.
“Act normal!” You teased, backing up to give them their moment.
Even though they were expecting it, they both jumped when the knock sounded at the door. They looked at each other, trying to decide who was going to open it. Finally, Ethan took the step and pulled it open.
And Kid Cudi was standing in the doorway. 
“What’s up guys?” The rapper was smiling so big, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the boys were both speechless. They held their hands out for a handshake, but there were still no words, which made Cudi laugh.
“I’m gonna give ya’ll a minute,” he chuckled, turning to you. “And you must be the lovely Y/N who set all this up. It’s nice to meet you in person.” He smiled, walking past the boys and over to you. You accepted the hug he offered with a grin.
‘It’s nice to meet you, thank you so much for coming out here, you really mean a lot to them, as you can tell.”
“Sorry, we’re just really big fans.” Ethan was the first to break the silence, which made Cudi turn around to them.
“Yeah man, I know! I saw that interview they did where they quizzed you on my songs. You all really know your shit.”
“You watched that?!” Grayson said, blushing brighter than you’d ever seen him. 
“Yeah man! I watched your all’s documentary too. Real deep shit, I enjoyed it.”
You thought the boys were going to combust right then and there. 
With the conversation now flowing, the boys were able to relax a bit. They asked questions they’d always wanted to know, about songs and life advice. You sat in the kitchen, giving them their time. It got surprisingly deep when they started talking about their dads, seeing that Cudi also lost his to cancer. You couldn’t imagine what it meant to them to be able to have one of their music idols there, breaking down the lyrics he wrote about the experience that the three of them shared. 
About three hours later, Cudi got a call. It was the first time the conversation stalled at all. He talked for a minute, sighing some towards the end before he hung up.
“Alright guys, looks like I’ve gotta get back. But hey, I’ve got something for you. A little birdy told me it’s almost your birthday so here. Now I’m trustin’ ya’ll. Don’t play this for anybody but yourselves. And her, she’s allowed,��� he grinned, nodding over to you as he reached into his hoodie. 
“What is it?” Grayson asked, nervous again you could tell.
“It’s a tape, got a few of my new songs on it. They’ll be on the next album, but it’s not coming out for a while. So it’s a little birthday present.” He handed them each a blank CD, enclosed in a black case. 
“Holy shit. No way.” Ethan mumbled, turning it over in his hands. 
‘Yeah, and I put a card in there with my number. Just reach out if you all ever need anything. Tickets to shows, or whatever. I’d love to catch up with you all again sometime, it was nice talkin’ with you.” 
The boys said their goodbyes, and gave their thanks, leading him over to the door and waving as he pulled out of the driveway.
But when they shut the door, all hell broke loose. They both started yelling, screaming, letting out all the pent up energy they’d held in through their whole conversation.
“That did not just happen. That did not just HAPPEN,” Grayson was yelling, running around the kitchen. You were dying laughing at the sight when he scooped you up, giving you the biggest hug and spinning you around. Ethan was right behind you when he stopped spinning, pulling you in for a hug.
‘You’re insane, you’re actually insane how did you even do that?” He asked.
‘I’m persuasive,” you teased, trying to keep it casual. In reality, you were actually damn proud of yourself. 
“Best birthday ever. Literally ever, no one can ever top this,” Grayson was shaking his head at you, still in shock.
“Bro. We have new Cudi to listen to. THAT NO ONE HAS EVER LISTENED TO BEFORE.” Ethan’s realization was a bit late, but it made you smile. 
At that, the excitement began again and you laughed, following them to Grayson’s room to play the CD, which was on repeat for the rest of the night.  
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tuffduff · 5 years
Text
Little Surprises (Duff McKagan x Reader)
Pairing: Duff x Reader
Words: 1045
Request: @julessworldd​ “Me and my friend went and got piercings done today. I redone my nose but had the idea of getting my belly done.. wondering if you could write something about how Duff would be like if his girl got her belly done? thanks :))”
A/N: I adore this prompt SO much! I hope y’all like it! Happy Tuesday night :)
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Duff was always by your side, your companion for every task, from the mundane grocery shopping and errands to fun dates to the amusement park or just enjoying lunch out somewhere. That also included trips to the tattoo parlor whenever he’d get the itch for a new tattoo, or the time you got your nose pierced. After all, you had to hold someone’s hand.
Now, it felt odd to be sitting inside the tattoo parlor without him present. There were two reasons for it; he was gone on a short trip for media interviews with Slash to promote their upcoming shows in Europe. That, and this piercing made you nervous.
Maybe that was all the more reason to have him there, but for some reason, you were afraid he wouldn’t like it. Izzy accompanied you instead, and you told him as much. He was only puzzled.
“Y/N, Duff has piercings too. What makes you think he wouldn’t find a belly button piercing attractive?” You shrugged.
“Because I’m still on the fence about it myself. I mean...I don’t know. Maybe I don’t have the body for it.” You weren’t expecting Izzy to shove your shoulder. “Hey! What?”
“Don’t be stupid.” He scolded you mildly. “Y/N, he’s crazy about you. He loves everything about you. Everything you love, he loves. You know how you wear that yellow shirt of yours all the time?”
You glanced down at it, amazed that you were wearing it. You had never really noticed.
“I do?” Izzy chuckled.
“Yes. And before you, Duff always used to say he didn’t really like yellow; I have a pair of yellow leather pants he would always tell me he hated. But the other day, he said ‘I love it when Y/N wears that yellow blouse. She looks like a flower.’” You felt your heart expanding.
“I miss him.” You mumbled, to which Izzy rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
“I’m sure he misses you too.”
It wasn’t long before the piercer was prepping her tools and you were gripping Izzy’s hand.
“Can you ease up, maybe?” He asked tentatively, wincing.
“Izzy, I asked you to come for this reason alone!” You hissed back.
“Aw, I’m flattered.” He replied back sarcastically. “Haven’t you gotten multiple piercings before?”
“What, is that supposed to make it hurt less?”
“Just a little pinch now,” your piercer warned you, an amused half smile on her face. She had pierced you before. “No Duff today?” It was a genuine question, but also her way of keeping you distracted.
“No, he had some work to do.” You winced.
“What do you think he’s gonna think?” She asked excitedly.
“I don’t know—and I don’t know why I don’t know.”
“Oh, fuck him if he doesn’t like it. But it’s Duff, I promise he’s gonna love it.” Izzy interjected, also wincing from you gripping his hand. “And then I’m gonna have to hear all about Y/N’s new piercing...” he muttered. You squeezed his hand hard on purpose. “Ow.”
“You’re all done! It looks great, Y/N.” You inspected your new belly button piercing in the mirror. Even Izzy nodded in approval.
“It does look cool.” Izzy admitted, giving you that slight smile of his. “You’re worrying for nothing.”
Duff returned home that next evening. Your initial excitement had worn off and now you were back to being nervous of showing him.
“Y/N, babe! I have something to show you!” Was the first thing out of his mouth when he got out of the car. It caught you off guard.
“...Oh really?” You replied, momentarily allowing yourself to be distracted. And then he made you feel even better when he lifted you up in the air, spinning you around in a tight hug. Suddenly, your apprehension felt silly; this was Duff. How many nights had you spent spilling your every insecurity to him while he listened earnestly before he kissed every fear away? How many tears had he wiped from your eyes, how many frowns had he fixed?
Your insecurity instantly vanished and the confidence Duff always inspired in you flourished. “Actually, I have something to show you too.” You smiled, feeling nothing but excitement. His eyes perked up in surprise and you seized the moment to kiss his lips.
“Really?”
“You first or me?” You continued. He smiled, placing you back on the ground.
“Me first. Save the best for last.” The smile on your face was beginning to hurt. You watched anxiously as he began taking off his denim jacket without the faintest idea of what he was about to show you. He stretched his forearm out in front of you and you realized there was a new tattoo. You squinted your eyes a little before you gasped. There was a new rose, the ink still fresh and the color vibrant. Better yet, along the stem was your name.
“Duff!” You exclaimed. “You went without me?” You pouted.
“Well, yeah. I wanted to surprise you.” He explained. You smiled, leaning up on your tip-toes to rest your hands on his shoulders. “Do you like it?”
“Tattoos are permanent you know,” you teased him, pouting your lips again in an effort to get a kiss.
“So are we, baby.” He kissed you lovingly, almost reluctant to pull back. “Now your turn.”
You lifted your shirt up just beneath your chest and his mouth popped open a little. “You went without me?” He joked, leaning down a little to take a closer look. “Holy shit, Y/N, it looks badass. I guess you’re just gonna have to wear crop tops all the time now...” he reached out and pulled you closer to kiss the top of your head. “You’re the only person in the world who can be both adorable as fuck and sexy as hell.”
At that moment, Izzy emerged from the apartment behind you. He already looked tired by the time Duff spotted him.
“Hey, Izzy, Y/N has the coolest piercing!”
“Oh, does she.” He replied without interest, sending you a pointed look and instantly pulling out a cigarette. You giggled.
“Come see Duff’s new tattoo, Izzy!” You called excitedly. He walked over silently and inspected Duff’s arm. His expression didn’t change as he looked between the both of you.
“Will you fucking get married already?”
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lovelyirony · 4 years
Note
for the song prompts: “you went and put me on a bigger stage/made me want to live again” with buckytony?
Tony Stark hadn’t played the stage in years. This was due to a lot of problems with his old manager, Obadiah Stane. That, and he had practically lived his whole life onstage. Everything was documented, his life on display, and he desperately wanted privacy. 
He got it when he was twenty-four and tired of the whole scene. He swore off the industry, moved to a house away from it all, and made a living off of car repairs. People didn’t look at him and see the early-retired rocker, they saw a man with a faded nickname of “Tony” on his jumpsuit and a certain expertise that went generally unmatched. 
Then, of course, there comes a new man in town. James “Bucky” Barnes, a man with a blunt stage presence and an adversity to the limelight. He avoids it, rarely does interviews, and when he does people listen. 
The new hire at Jarvis Motors, Peter, excitedly runs up to Tony with the new interview. He knows all about Tony’s past life, even has a couple of old t-shirts of his aunts that he’ll occasionally wear to irk Tony. 
(Although he’s never actually mad.) 
“Look!” Peter says, waving his phone. 
“I can’t see it if you’re moving it,” Tony says, taking himself away from one of the trucks. “What is it.” 
“Bucky likes your style!” 
“Who the hell is Bucky?” Tony asks, a frown. “Do I know him?” 
“You live under a rock,” Peter says. 
“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” 
He sees the face of a guy who is exactly his type: tall, dark, a bit of a dangerous vibe going on. 
“He’s the new face of rock,” Peter says. “And intensely private, rarely does interviews. And he mentioned you as a main influence.” 
“In what, learning how not to do fame?” Tony asks. 
“No, listen,” Peter insists, unpausing the video. 
“And who would you say is your biggest influence, music wise?” 
“Definitely Tony Stark,” Bucky says, smiling faintly. “He had performance, but everyone in the industry has that. His performances were uniquely his own. He developed his own way, didn’t rely on fancy pyrotechnics but incorporated them in. There’s something about him I don’t think any of us--especially myself--are going to forget.” 
Tony smiles faintly. 
“See?” Peter says. “You should tell him you liked the interview.” 
“And what, have people pay attention to me again?” Tony asks. “I like being able to open my curtains in the morning hours, Pete.” 
As it turns out, people do not bother him at his residence, although he gets a formal email from the band’s manager asking him if he would like to come to a show. 
He asks if he can bring along another person, and they say yes. 
Peter cannot stop yelling about it. 
“A concert Mr. Stark!” he yells. “A real concert! And we get to see Bucky perform live!” 
“It’s Tony, and it’s not a big deal,” Tony says, smiling to himself as he sees Peter bouncing up and down on his feet. 
Front row tickets. Of course. Tony should have expected it, although it’s so...it’s been so long since he’s been on a stage, let alone near one. 
There are whispers all around him, cameras trained on his every move as Peter excitedly jabbers on about the band’s upcoming tour, the success story, and Bucky’s memorable personality. 
“You’ll like him,” Peter says. 
Peter’s right. As they come out on stage, Tony grins at the band, who all smile at each other and Bucky whoops. The crowd whoops back. He sings a couple notes, has them repeated back to him. 
“Some of you know us, some of you were dragged here,” Bucky announces. “Parents, I’m not apologizing. You bought the tickets. But let’s have a good time tonight, sure?” 
There’s a roar of approval as they get into the first song. 
Bucky has an easy stage appearance and it’s almost like he’s been on one all his life. His feet slide to the rhythm, eyes light up with each lyric. He enunciates some funny words, deftly grabs the bracelets and gifts that fans wave in the air. 
He can hear the way that lyrics resonate with others, he sees at least one person crying. It’s powerful, and he can’t say that he hasn’t missed what that means.  
-
After a show is just as important. There’s a pleasant, heady buzz to the air, the overhead lights shining bright white on everything. Reality a bit altered. 
They still get to go backstage. 
Tony looks around, taking note of the crew that scurry around, giving him nervous looks. 
“If they knew you’ve ranted about the different models of car you hate, they wouldn’t think you were this impressive,” Peter mutters. 
Tony laughs. 
“You’re right about that. But you forget that I was impressive.” Peter laughs, wringing his hands as they get to where the meeting room is. 
“We’ll be fine,” Tony says. 
“Holy shit, I didn’t actually think you’d come!” Bucky says upon opening the door. “Fuck, man!” 
Tony laughs. 
“I had a couple of sick days to burn. I loved the set, you guys are talented.” 
The drummer--Natasha, if Tony remembers from the information Peter had sped through--waves. 
“You still at that car repair shop?” 
Tony raises an eyebrow. 
“How do you know that?” 
“Pepper and I follow each other on Instagram.” 
“Oh,” Tony says, blinking. “So I know you from there. Nice skills with the drums.” 
“Thanks.” 
Tony faces Bucky. 
“So. I saw the interview. That really true or something they told you to say?” 
"Why would it be a lie?” Bucky asks. 
“I’m not exactly that big anymore,” Tony says. “And I don’t know, I guess it’s just hard to imagine someone being that influenced by me.” 
Bucky grins. 
“When you look like you do and you sing like you do? Honey it’s a miracle more people aren’t admiring you as much as I do.” 
Tony blushes. Peter groans and goes over to where Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter are, choosing to avoid the conversation altogether. 
“So,” Tony says. “I don’t do a lot of the rockstar shit much, but I do remember how nice a burger was post-show. My treat?” 
Bucky grins, leaning forward. 
“Oh, I’d love that.” 
Tony doesn’t mind being photographed in the company of Bucky Barnes. It does rocket his business up to beyond-busy, he can no longer go to the grocery store at regular hours, and he gets judged for buying three packs of Oreos. 
But he gets to spend time with Bucky, who has the best jokes, the greatest smile, and sings like he’s the only person in the room. 
It’s not all bad. 
(At least, for now. Pepper is mentioning something about a “return” tour and he just knows he’ll do it and he knows it’ll be amazing. Ugh.) 
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sheerbeautyreigns · 3 years
Text
DESIRE
Part 52
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Joe slept in until 10am that morning, which gave him enough time to have a shower and pack his belongings. While gathering the last of his toiletries, his phone rang. It was Drew. He hesitated for a moment, swallowing.
“I wasn’t sure you’d pick up.” The Scot started. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you. I know you had an early flight…”
“So you weren”t just leaving because you felt bad?” Drew asked. “No, I…look I don’t know what to think to be honest. I didn’t think I’d see you again in that capacity.”
“I’m sorry. You know how I feel about you though? Every time we’re together, I never want it to end. You do something to me-”
“Drew don’t…” Joe couldn’t listen to him pour his guts out like this. He already felt terrible about it. “You know how I feel about you Joe. You deserve to be treated better. It’s only a matter of time until you realise that.” Joe was silent. He was scared to think that he might be right based on the ups and downs he and Paul had been experiencing. “I have to check out.” He finally said. “Just think about it OK?”
“OK.” Joe hung up. He inhaled deeply. Drew normally came across pretty passive in this situation but something had shifted. It was like he now had feelings for Joe. He couldn’t deny he felt the same way but he belonged to Paul. He had already fucked up once with Colby and he couldn’t do it again.
For the rest of the week, Joe kept himself busy with a couple of interviews, more home improvements, workouts and seeing his family. He hadn’t heard much from Paul. He knew how busy he was and to be honest, he was already nervous about seeing him. Not to mention meeting his friends. The very though of it made him anxious. He hadn’t been taking his pills, as prescribed by his doctor as often as he should. He hated to rely on them but he would have to start. As he washed one down with a mouthful of water, his phone rang.
“Hey baby, how are you?” Paul sounded happy. Joe started to pace around his bedroom. “I’m good. I wanted to call during the week but I knew how busy you were.” He lied. “I always have time for you, no matter what.” The thought made him feel even worse. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too baby but it’s already Saturday and I get you all to myself from tomorrow. I booked something special for us in San Francisco. I think you’ll like it.”
“Can’t wait.” Joe smiled. “What time will you be at the arena from tomorrow?”
“About 5pm. I have a couple of meetings. Are you ready for your match?” He checked. “You know me, always ready.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling more positive baby.” He could sense the smile in Paul’s voice. “No use in complaining. Should be a good match, although I probably won’t be saying that afterwards.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you something to look forward to after.” Paul replied. “Is that a threat or a promise?” Joe retorted.
Guess you’ll just have to wait and see. OK babe, I’m gonna have an early night but I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Joe and Colby had just finished their Steel Cage match. Everything had gone smoothly and the crowd were really into it chanting “This is awesome” and “Holy shit” throughout. Both men hurt like hell but they were both happy. Joe left first since he was first to escape over the top of the cage and retain his title. When he came into Gorilla, he saw Paul for the first time that evening. He was sat with Vince wearing a white shirt and grey suit. Vince got up and came towards Joe to hug him and congratulate him on a great match. Joe eyes met Paul’s as he hugged Vince. A small smile crossed his face before he too got up and hugged Joe. “I’ll call you soon.” He simply said. Joe wandered off to the mens locker room. He could feel his stomach drop when he saw Drew sat alone, talking on his phone. Their eyes met for a moment before Joe went to his case which was located on the other side of the room. It sounded like he might be talking to a family member. Joe went about removing his vest and boots. He could feel Drew watching him from behind while he spoke. Thankfully, Colby entered.
“Aww man that was awesome but not gonna lie, I’m getting too old for this shit.” Colby grinned before wincing. “You say that every time. You gotta ease up on those chair shots though.” Joe joked. Drew groaned, getting up and left the room, seemingly in a huff. “Jeez what’s wrong with him?” Colby asked rolling his eyes. “Who knows.” Joe grabbed his towel and went into the shower.
When he returned, he had a missed call from Paul. “Hey, sorry, I just got out of the shower.” His eyes met Drew’s as he entered the room again. Colby had left. “OK babe, there’ll be a car waiting for you. I’m just arriving at the hotel.”
“OK I’m just packing up here and I’ll be over. By the way, where are you?” Joe asked, going through his bag. “The Fairmont? You didn’t have to…” Joe couldn’t help but notice the smirk on Drew”s face. “…OK I won’t be long…Love you too.” Joe started to get changed, slipping into his boxers and a pair of comfortable black Under Armour bottoms. “You almost sounded like you meant that.” Drew commented. Joe passed him a glance. “I do mean it.”
“Until he really hurts you again.” Drew retorted. “This is not the time or place.” Joe was getting annoyed now. “You weren’t saying that in my hotel room the other night.”
“Don’t you dare bring-” Joe words were cut short when a couple of members of the road crew entered. Drew could only smirk. Was he resorting to blackmailing now? Whatever it was, Joe didn’t like it one bit. He quickly finished getting changed and left.
It was around 10:30pm when Joe arrived at Paul’s suite. He was on the phone when he answered. Paul motioned that he was almost finished the call as Joe walked in. The suite was impressive, as expected. Paul always had good taste. Joe took his cases into the bedroom and went about hanging up a few pieces of clothing while Paul’s conversation rolled on.
When Joe was finished, he gingerly appeared at the bedroom door and watched as Paul sat at his laptop while on the phone. He motioned for the young man to come sit on his lap to which Joe obliged. He wrapped his arms around Paul’s neck and traced small kisses along his stubble, down to his neck. Paul quickly ended the call and pulled Joe body against his. “You have no idea how much I missed you this week.” He placed his palms on either side of his face and kissed him passionately. “I missed you too.” Joe smiled kissing him back. “I like this suite.”
“I wanted something special for us since we have more time together this week. How do you feel?” Paul asked looking up into his eyes. “A little achey from the match but I”ll be fine.”
“I don’t want you to be hurting on Wednesday night so I’ve arranged for you to have a nice massage tomorrow downstairs.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Joe assured him. “I know you will but it's gonna be pretty physical in LA so I just want you to rest beforehand.”
“Have you made any arrangements yet?” Joe asked carefully.
“I was thinking, it might be nice to let you do your own thing for some of the night. Would you like that?” Paul asked, playing with a strand of his hair. “Really? I thought I was there to submit and do whatever you say?”
“You will be but I thought it’d be nice to reward you a little too. Let you fuck whoever you want before I have my way with you.” A small smile crept onto Joe face. “I’d like that.” He licked his lips. “Wednesday night is very important to me. These people are important to me.”
“I understand.” Joe nodded. “Good boy. I know you won’t let me down.” Paul smiled.
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starcrossedimbecile · 3 years
Text
Femboy Hooters
The imagine(?) is finally here! It's slightly male x male, and it involves some of my original characters (OCs)! It's also a crackfic (though taken somewhat seriously), but I hope you enjoy!
. ˚◞♡ 🎐 *ೃ༄
I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. Today I was supposed to be starting my first day at work at Femboy Hooters. It was a new joint that just opened up not far from where I lived, and it was honestly the stupidest shit I've ever heard. And yet Baba somehow managed to talk me into applying for a job there. He wouldn't stop talking about it, saying how amazing it was and that "I should TOTALLY get a job there."
I hesitated at first, but I eventually caved in. I applied for a job, went to the interview, and they pretty much hired me on the spot. They told me that I was "perfect" for the job. As much as I hate to admit it, it was actually a pretty good ego boost hearing that in spite of my overall opinion on Femboy Hooters. And besides, I've gotta earn money somehow.
As I laid in bed doing absolutely nothing, my phone buzzed. I lazily picked it up and stared into its almost mesmerizing glowing screen. It was a text from Anzu.
Bitch-ass Springtail mofo🌚: Hey Ken, I heard you got a job at Femboy Hooters.
How the hell did he know about... that? Oh, Baba probably told him. The little bitch doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut.
You: Yeah, I'm supposed to be starting today. I've gotta leave in a few minutes.
Bitch-ass Springtail mofo🌚: I see. Well, I'll see you there, I guess?
Damn, Anzu sure is quick to reply. Wait, what does he mean by that?
You: What?
Bitch-ass Springtail mofo🌚: Uh... You'll see. And when you do, PLEASE don't laugh. Already got enough of that from Rei.
You: Um... Okay? Well, I've gotta go now. If I don't, I'll be late.
Bitch-ass Springtail mofo🌚: Alright. See you there.
I turn off my phone and stuff it in my pocket. I put on my shoes and toss on a generic black jacket over my generic t-shirt and walk out the door. I get in my car and set my phone's GPS to the Femboy Hooter's location and drive off.
━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━
I arrive at the Femboy Hooters, which looks like every other Hooters with the word "Femboy" slapped onto it. I assumed it must be some new chain Hooters decided to open, as if the original wasn't doing well enough (albeit not because of the food).
I exit my car and lock it with a sigh, walking up to the building before being stopped by a guy standing at the door. Wait, they have bouncers? I thought this was some low-class restaurant, not a fucking club.
"Excuse me," the guy spoke. "We don't open for another-- wait, are you Kendric?"
"Yes, I am. And..." I let out an audible gulp, swallowing my hesitation. "I... work here."
"Oh! You're the new guy, right?! Right this way~."
Suddenly, the guy took me by the hand and led me inside, where I was soon met by a guy who was a bit taller than I was. He wore professional-looking clothes, but dressed in a way you'd probably expect a woman desperate for head to wear them. Uh, to put it simply, he dressed somewhat like a woman. And in all honesty, I was pretty fucking intimidated by him. I mean... from the looks of it, he might be the goddamn manager of this place! I definitely don't wanna get on his bad side.
"Ah, you must be Kendric!" He spoke in a slightly feminine tone, which threw me off-guard. "Welcome to Femboy Hooters. I'm Aiden, and I'm the manager here. It's a pleasure to meet you."
He extended an arm for a handshake, and I shakily accepted it, trembling in my own skin for some reason. "I-It's nice to meet you, too, Aiden..." I spoke, but my voice cracked like a little bitch.
"Oh, there's no need to be nervous. It'll take some time, but you'll get used to everything here soon enough," he reassured me, which helped me to relax a bit.
Aiden then handed me a bundle of clothes, which I immediately recognized as the uniform I was supposed to wear. "Here's your clothes. You're going to be a waiter here. You can change into these in the employee bathroom."
"Um... Thank you, sir. Err..."
"Sir is fine."
"Right... Thank you."
After that, I headed to the bathroom to get changed, entering an empty stall and locking it thereafter. I stripped out of my clothes and into the uniform, which immediately made me feel embarrassed as fuck. The "uniform" was a small revealing(?) white tank top with the Femboy Hooters logo on it coupled by a pair of tight, orange booty shorts that I swear to god revealed the bulge of my dick.
I can't believe Baba talked me into this. I think I'm gonna commit toaster bath. Or maybe step on a lego and die.
...Eh, I guess if the other employees will be wearing this, then I guess it's not that bad. I'm probably just being overcritical.
Letting out a deep sigh, I exit the bathroom. I happened to notice a few of the other employees (who looked oddly familiar) and decide to see what they were up to. Sure enough, some of these employees were people I knew, but the one that really caught my attention was the small winter springtail standing at the bar—Anzu.
Anzu was wearing the same uniform as, well, everyone else, and I almost burst into laughter. I know I had no place to laugh at him, but he looked so ridiculous in it! There was no way I could look at him without desperately trying to stifle my laughter.
"God dammit, you said you wouldn't laugh!" Anzu shot a glare at me as he spoke, his small insect arms making their way to his hips.
"A-Actually, I didn't," I responded through stifled laughter.
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You're wearing the same thing, too, you know."
"I... I know, but..." I took a deep breath in attempt to get myself to calm down. "It's just... You're so tiny! And it just... You look hilarious."
"What does being small have to do with anything?!"
At this point, Anzu seemed pissed, which told me that I should probably back off. It wasn't until Junpei walked over to us and tried to calm us down, her bug antennae bobbing as she did. She had the body of a human male, just like me, but had antennae extending out of her head. It's kind of like what you'd see in a kitsune or okami, where their animal ears stick out of their head, if you know what I mean.
"Come now, is it really necessary to fight? I'm sure Kendric didn't mean to laugh at you."
"What?! I... He... Err... I guess you have a point."
"Very good. And Kendric, apologize to Anzu for making fun of him."
As much as I didn't want to apologize, I knew that that was the only thing I could do in this situation. So reluctantly...
"I...I'm sorry, Anzu, for making fun of you..."
"Alright, I suppose I can't stay mad at you. I forgive you," Anzu replies.
That went surprisingly well.
After that incident, a large, muscular ant-like creature walked over to us. "Alright, they're about to open up this place!" he shouted. "So get busy! I'll be in the kitchen if any of you need help."
"Ah, well, I guess we'd better get to work. Take care!" Junpei waved to us, then left. I watched her walk away before I felt a cold hand resting on my shoulder, causing me to jump.
"Ack! Hey, get your hands off of--" I was about to turn around and roundhouse kick the owner of the hand before I locked gazes with the ant. He looked big looking at him from a distance, but now he was practically towering over me. Holy shit.
"There's no need to be alarmed. You're the new kid, right?"
"U-Um... Yeah." I gulped as I spoke.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Alexei, one of the chefs here."
"K-Kendric. I'm Kendric."
"I see. Well, don't get discouraged during your first few days working here. You'll eventually get used to it."
"Ah... Thank you." As soon as I'd said that, Alexei nodded and began walking over to the kitchen and entering. I sighed as I turned to the sound of one of the main doors opening and closing in the distance. Oh, it's a customer.
Shaking off my anxiousness, I approached the customer as they took a seat. The customer was a man around my age who had dark purple hair with a small tuft of white highlights around his right ear. The clothes he wore were almost classy, as though he was a businessman of sorts. If he's that professional, assuming he is, then what the fuck is he doing at a place like this?
Anyway, before I could take the time to think of a response, his indigo eyes met my topaz ones and began to speak.
"Ah, hello there. Come to take my order?"
Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Was this guy seriously talking to me? I mentally panicked. I was never good at talking to people. I have no idea what to say! Frantically, my gaze darted around the room. I happened upon Junpei, who was also taking an order. She was talking to them in such a strange manner, but perhaps...
I turned to the man and began to speak.
"Hello! Welcome to Femboy Hooters~!✨ How may I help you today~?"
He simply chuckled. "Aha, someone seems awfully happy today. I'd just like a Pepsi and a grilled cheese."
I flustered a bit at his response, but took his order nonetheless. "Wonderful! Will that be all~?"
"Hmm... Yep. That's it. Unless..."
"U-Unless...?" What the fuck? What was that about? A hypothesis came to mind, causing me to fluster a bit more... before he laughed again.
"Nah, I'm just teasing. But that's about it for my order."
I let out a relieved sigh and nodded. "Very well. Your order will arrive shortly~!✨"
After that, I made my way towards the kitchen area to give the chefs the order. In all my life, I'd never expected for something that... strange... to happen. And Junpei wasn't making anything better, either.
"Hey Ken, were you about to get some head over there?" she asked in the worst teasing tone imaginable.
"Ugh, Junpei, you're being fucking ridiculous." I will admit, though, he did seem a bit attractive. Dunno if he's straight though.
Junpei laughed at my response. "Whatever you say."
I sent her an annoyed glare as she walked away, but recovered quickly. Before I knew it, the chefs had finished the man's order and handed his dish and Pepsi to me through the window. I carefully took it and made my way to him.
"Here you go! A grilled cheese and Pepsi, just like you ordered~!✨"
"That was fast. Thanks, sweetheart."
Sweetheart? Holy shit, he was definitely flirting with me. At this point, I couldn't help but blush at his statement.
"Ah, there's no need to feel shy. I'm Dmitri Ashford, by the way. I'll definitely be coming here more often."
Somehow, just hearing his voice made me calm down a bit. Feeling my embarrassment wash away, I began to speak. "I-I'm Kendric. It's nice to meet you."
"A pleasure to meet you, too, Kendric. Perhaps I'll be seeing you tomorrow?"
"Y-Yeah... I'd like that."
"Wonderful. Well, I guess I shouldn't be holding you up. I suppose you have more customers to attend to."
"Yeah. Well... I'll see you later, then!"
"Without a doubt."
We waved before I departed. In the distance, I could make out Junpei's faint chuckles. God fucking dammit.
I guess I'll be looking forward to working here every day after that encounter.
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mickmarstookmyheart · 5 years
Text
Life's a Sick Joke pt 2
Pairing: Mick Mars x Reader
Would like to start from the beginning? Here is Part 1 !
Sidenote: As this story is under construction, I would like to warn you that those chapters which don’t have a proper title are written in the main caharcter’s POV!! Be aware!!! Be awaaare! I hope you will enjoy this storyas I did writing it, have a nice day and feel free to leave marks!
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2. After-Meeting Party
"Hey Liz, you forgot your helmet! Don't dare to ride without it." Dylan threw it in your way and you caught it smoothly. You said goodbye to him and ran down the stairs, hoping not to meet any of your neighbors.
You packed your stuff into the bag of your motorbike. It was a beautiful, shining jet black chopper. You've worked your ass off to afford it, but it was way cheaper than a car. Perks, you can easily avoid traffic jams. It was just still February and all, but since you hate public transport, particularly people, you got your helmet on and pulled the leather jacket down your waist.
On your way to the meeting, plenty of things crossed your mind. Firstly, in a couple of months, you will be on the road and travel a LOT with Ozzy Osbourne as the opener group during 'Bark at the Moon' tour. Secondly, how should you behave with the boys and the other members of the staff? Should you joke with them or stay calm and silent and ignore all the witty sentences they will tell? And finally, Mick. You hoped he forgot that little chat between the two of you.
When you got there and finally found a parking lot. You took off your helmet and headed towards the building. Inside you took a look at the big clock and saw that you were half an hour earlier, but you didn't mind. Never have you ever been late from anywhere. I gave a look to that clerk from last time and confidently stepped in the elevator. When you got in front of the office door you hesitated a bit. When you stepped in you said a shy hello to the others who were already there. You sat down at the end of the table and started to read the papers on the desk.
"Hey, don't touch them! It's confidential." At the same moment, you dropped the papers and looked over the man in complete shock. You felt my face burn in embarrassment.
"Oh...I'm so sorry. I didn't know..." You tried to say a proper sentence.
"Just kidding, kid. Don't worry. Anyway, I'm Doc." He approached you and shook hands.
"(Y/N). Nice to finally meet you." You were smiling since you truly meant it. He already managed some bands you liked so much.
"Are you the new makeup artist?" He asked rubbing the back of his head guessing.
"Nope. I'm a photographer. I don't, more like I can't really do anything with makeup." You chuckled remembering your many attempts with make-up. You either ended like a clown or you never saw any difference.
"Ohh so you are the nerd one." Yaaay now they will call you The Nerd™. Cool. "Anyway, I read your CV. Nice qualifications. To be honest I expected an old, skinny man with a big mustache to be the photographer. But it's a pleasant disappointment."
"Thank you. I guess." You said after he left you there.
After he left the room, you let your hair loose and fix it a bit due to the helmet completely ruined it. The only body part you adored was your hair. Well, your hair, generally in the family. All the three of you and your bitch mother had silver, almost platinum white hair.
10 am. Finally. Everybody was present except for the four musicians. Nothing really happened, just discussed things which relate to the staff.
10:30 am. The door opened and the dark knight himself entered the meeting. You tried to avoid eye contact with him so you entertained yourself by the color of the wall and the long, shining glass table in front of you.
"I am sorry." Mick apologized and shut the door after himself. So he is the only one who attended the meeting. Nice.
"So, your interview went well I see." He whispered in your ear as he sat down next to you. Next to you. There were plenty of other seats available, but he had to sit down right there. Yay. Becoming invisible mission failed.
"Yeah...I was surprised, too." You said blushing.
You tried my best, really. You tried to concentrate on the meeting and jot down important information, but every time Doc joked and Mick chuckled or laughed you completely lost control. You always felt his eyes on you. It was frustrating. You cleared your throat more than once as a sign for him to look away but he didn't get it or just didn't want to. Doc started to write on the board the important concert dates and so did you.
"Shouldn't we wait until the boys come?" You chuckled. A girl asked who was sitting in front of you. She was a rookie, too if you had to guess.
"It's very unlikely to happen, dear. They are rockstars and they do whatever they feel like." Doc sighed continuing on the board.
"You know I'm sitting here, right?" Mick asked in a serious tone. Everybody cracked up, including me.
"If you really want to see them, check them at the after-meeting party." Doc told the girl.
"After-meeting party?"
You whispered to Mick.
"Yep. You coming?" He asked leaning closer. His breath was doing things to you.
"I don't know. Maybe. Although, I can't really drink, and party without alcohol isn't a party."
"And what if I won't drink either? That would be fair, right?" He offered in a very dangerous tone, it gave you goosebumps.
"Ohh I can't expect it from you. It's a party overall!"
"I want to be sober when I'm talking to you. I want to remember everything you say and tell me." Your heart skipped a beat.
At the party
"Hey, Mick!!! We didn't expect you to be hereeeee!!" Nikki yelled as he, Tommy, and Vince entered the party. They were all drunk as hell but trying to act sober. You and Mick were sitting at the bar drinking juice and water. Shame.
"Fuck. I didn't know what I was missing. These morons." He placed his face in his hands. Somehow you felt a sudden urge to touch his shoulder to comfort him, but you didn't have the guts to do so.
"And who is this?" The boys approached you and stopped in front of you. Vince eyed from head-to-toe and was grinning. "Nice to meet you, dear. I'm Vince Neil, the singer, and leader of this band."
"Vince, you are the lead singer, not the leader. It's not the same, man." Nikki corrected Vince.
"(Y/N)." He held your hand and placed a kiss on the top of it.
"My lady." Mick just rolled his eyes. You were afraid he might eye-roll himself into another dimension.
"And (Y/N)....what?" Tommy asked curiously.
"I'm sure she is (Y/N) Sixx cause I will fucking marry her, man!" He and his terror twin high-fived while you and Mick just shared a look.
"Wow. That was so original. You don't have better pickup lines?" You asked pulling one of your eyebrows at him.
"Hey, that was good. As me." He winked and with that, he just walked away pretending to be offended.
"I'm Tommy. Tommy Lee. And I really would like to know your surname!! Is it embarrassing or what?" He snickered.
"Well if you look me with those puppet eyes of yours I'm gonna tell ya. My name is (Y/N) Cooper." You sighed and waited for the reaction. Tommy was wide-eyed and already turned towards his bandmates.
"Hey Sixx, Vinnie! This is Alice Cooper's daughter!" You facepalmed since you already knew this will happen. A bunch of idiots.
"No, man. This is the reason I didn't want to tell it. Because you, fucking teenagers will immediately think that I'm a relative of Alice Cooper!!" You snapped and now completely understand Mick's thoughts about them.
"Chills, dude. I'm leaving." Lee held his hands up in defense and left you there with Mick.
"Fucking teenagers" is my line." Mick spoke up after they all left.
"You need to copyright it sometime."
∆Still at the party∆
"So I already know that you like taking pictures. Tell me your story!" You were now on the balcony which was much quieter and peaceful them downstairs. You finally convinced Mick to drink something even if you couldn't. He had a bottle of beer in his hands and was gesturing with it.
"I don't really know what to tell. What do you want to know?" You asked while taking a sip from your water. Water at a party. You couldn't believe it either.
"Well, do you live near here? Children?" He paused for a second. He looked at you from the coach. "Husband?" You smiled at the last question.
"Woah, Woah, Woah. Hold on! One question at once! I can't even remember them. Well, if you really want to know we live 30 minutes from here. We moved here at least four years ago."
"With whom?" He asked while he slowly stood up and leaned on the railing of the balcony beside you.
"With my brother and sister. Woah, now just with my brother, cause Isabelle went to uni. And for that husband topic...I haven't really had any proper relationship, there were mostly jerks, dumps, and idiots, in that order." You looked down and laughed at how miserable you were with relationships. "Also looking after my sister and sometimes my brother is just like having a baby." He chuckled. "And what about you?"
"I have a sister, called Susie and three..."
"Brothers?" You asked back not letting him finish his sentence. Mick already regretted intending to mention his children so it was a good come out.
"Yeah, sure." He said before taking a sip of his booze. He stood closer to you so his shoulder was touching yours. Mick met many girls during his life who were pretty and kind, but when he saw you in the office acting nervous, he knew you will completely turn upside down his whole life.
You hummed from the slight touch and leaned your head on his shoulder. You were admiring the view of the city night and the peaceful quiet. Then something crossed your mind like thunder during a storm.
"Holy shit." You cursed thinking he will kill you.
"What is it?" Mick asked worryingly.
"I forgot to call him, my brother. He will kill me. Sorry, but I gotta go."
"Okay, I will wait here." Mick sighed and thought he fucked it up this time. Maybe this touch and personal questions just scared you away. You headed towards the phonebooth downstairs. You felt terrible leaving Mick there all alone, but your brother must be worried sick, not knowing a thing about you.
You found a phone in the kitchen which was not that quiet. Cool. It ranged at least a million times until he picked it up.
"What kind of meeting lasts for more than 3 hours? I worried sick. Where are you?" He ranted on the phone. He was pretty angry.
"I'm so sorry, Dylan. Time just flew. Currently, I'm in a house party near to the office. It's a so-called after meeting party. Sounds ridiculous, I know." You smiled on the phone.
"Sure, it does. But you aren't drinking, are you? I hope you remember...that thing."
"Yeah I remember and you don't have to remind me all the time. And I'm sober. Anyway, Mick is asking of you."
"So...becoming invisible mission failed?"
"It fucking did."
"Who are you talking to, my dear?" A strangely familiar voice echoed from your back so you turned around. Vince. Dear Satan give you enough strength to handle him.
"Hey, Dylan I have to go, but I will set off soon, I promise. See ya later." And without waiting for his respond you hung up. After putting back the phone you glared at him, not in a mood for his attempts.
"What do you want, Vince?" You asked while heading back to poor Mick.
"Just a kiss from a rose." He stepped in front of you and put his fingers under your chin.
"No way, man! You are wasted and I'm not enough wasted to kiss you. So, please let me go." You wanted to walk beside him back to Mick, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled closer to him. Mick went back to the room and was about to leave this party since he supposed you weren't coming back. It was too long now for just a telephone conversation.
"It's just a kiss. From me. From the fucking lead singer of Mötley fucking Crüe." He whispered in your ear.
"But asshole, I don't give a damn of who you are. And get your hands off me!" You were about to walk away but he crushed his lips on yours. You immediately moved away and punched him in the face. He fell to the floor and held his hand on his face.
"You BITCH! You hit me!!" You stood there in complete shock, not believing what you just did. Everyone was staring at you. Your hand hurt like hell and you just wanted to be somewhere else.
"I'm so sorry. I should...go." You ran out of the bar and got on your bike.
"Hey, (Y/N)! Please wait!" Mick yelled from the door and was approaching you. "Where are you going?"
"Didn't you see what I did? I punched Vince. Actually, he is my boss. I fucked it up." You sighed and was gripping the hand clutch so strong your hand was already white.
"In that case, I'm your boss, too. And what did he do? I just saw that he is on the floor and you are running out."
"He...he tried to kiss me. I told him to stop and go away but he didn't. And after all, he did it and I got furious and hit him." You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Mick didn't know what to think at first, he was just amazed at how badass you were and angry as hell about Vince.
"Don't worry. He is so drunk he won't even remember it in the morning." Mick tried to chill you down.
"Are you sure? But what Doc will think? He is angry I guess..." You murmured.
"I think he didn't even notice it. And he won't care if Vince will go to him and cry like a girl who just broke her nails."
You chuckled. He stepped closer and you hugged him. You didn't know why you just needed someone to comfort you. He didn't move for a second. Later he hugged you back and rubbed your back. Mick wanted that moment to last forever, though it felt like a minute. Your strong grip, your smell and your hair in his face were just perfect. You were just perfect.
"Thank you for always being there when I need the most." You wiped your tears away and felt awkward." Sorry, this might sound strange." You sniffed.
"Hey, it's okay and I understand." A long pause and awkward silence. "So is this your bike? It looks badass." He took a look at your bike.
"Yap, it's mine. And thanks. I worked a lot to get it. But it worthed." You looked in the distance for a while. You thought about Vince and that you may have to look for a new job and had to leave Mick.
You screwed it up. 
Next chapter
Tags: @cmft-jr-winchester  @leatherandheels​
47 notes · View notes
iesorno · 4 years
Text
We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper. We just kept on going with it all until we ended up with a mammoth interview going into every corner of his mind, from practice and accessing his creativity, to grafting to make a living outside of the norms of the mainstream.
I think it’s a fascinating look into the practice, experiences and the will to succeed that powers Adam, as well as a window into the wider world of underground creators.
WARNING – GORE and some SEX
You can find Adam here
webstore                youtube                facebook
  ZL – Hi Adam! Thanx for agreeing to this interview, hope you enjoy it. 
Let’s get introductions out of the way. For anyone that doesn’t know, can you tell us your name, where you grew up and where you currently live?
AY – My name is Mr. Adam Yeater. I grew up a swamp rat in Florida and traveled around a lot. I finally settled down in Arizona as a desert rat. I went from one Florida to another. 
ZL – For a little bit more background. You clearly enjoy underground and mini comix, so how did you first find out about them and what were you interested in before you started reading them?
AY – I discovered zines through the early Death/Grind Metal scene in the 90s. There was no internet so everything was done via snail mail. I used to get so much great printed matter. Demo tapes, fliers for bands, albums and review zines. I eventually started my own zine called Subliminal Message. We lived in Ohio in a shit hole little town. Trying to get high, fighting, reading comic books, listening to Metal, Punk Rock, Hardcore Rap and skateboarding.
I was a very industrious broke ass 14 year old kid. I found a way to get some of the mainstream metal record companies to send me promo stuff for their bands for review. I was getting stacks of stuff in the mail. The record companies were mailing backstage passes to me! My mom thought I was running a mail scam.
I once did a phone interview with Chris Barnes when he was in Cannibal Corpse. Chris called for an interview and my mom picked up the phone. He was like “Are you a fucking kid? Holy shit! I usually do interviews with old dudes?” We talked for an hour and half about Metallica selling out. It was amazing. I idolized these weirdos and was getting to just hang out with them. 
I did an interview with Cro-Mags right when the original singer got out of prison. I did an interview with Entombed for my high school newspaper! I even interviewed the Goo Goo Dolls when they were on Metalblade Records just for the hell of it. Those metal bands were my heroes. They treated me as an equal and I was this punk kid. They all encouraged me to keep at it. I was getting first hand knowledge of trying to make a living as a creative in American society from them. The good and bad. 
ZL – What did it feel like the first time you ever spoke to one of your heroes? It must have felt pretty excellent, right?
AY – It was awesome talking to those bands, it was a real rush. I would get so nervous. I got to hang with some of the bands before and after the shows. All these dudes just embraced me as one of them. I am super tall, so I looked a lot older than I was. I was also a big nerd for the metal scene so I was turning them onto all this other new stuff I was getting. I think they saw me as an oddity. Then we moved to Tucson where there was no metal scene. 
ZL – Is that why you stopped making your zine then, moving to Tucson?
AY – Yeah, moving from Ohio to Arizona. The scene was pretty lame in AZ. No bands would come through Tucson at the time. So I ditched the ‘zine and started a Grindcore band with some friends. We did pretty well for a local death metal act. We played shows with Napalm Death and smoked a ton of weed with Sadistic Intent, that was cool. 
Lots of drugs and drama, bandmates stealing from each other. . . even more drugs. It was a very fucked up time in my life that I am happy to have survived. 
ZL – At what point did you get back into zines and start to think that self-publishing comics was something you could do or that you were good at and wanted to do more with, to just keep going and going and see how far you could take it?
AY – After the band and metal zine I started printing my own mini comics and comic books. I really got into self publishing and art because I had nothing else really. My last “legit” job was as a janitor before I decided to do art and publish full time. I figured I would rather starve as an artist than starve scrubbing shit off toilets. Art is the only thing I have ever been really good at. So I just keep doing it. 
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ZL – Circling back to get a bit more from your background for a minute, what first turned you into a comic reader and from there, did you move to be a collector or fan, if that distinction makes sense!! And where in all of that did you start making your own comics?
AY- I was into comics a lot when I was young as a collector and fan before I moved into extreme music. I was keeping up with the medium but was focused on the death metal band I was in.
After the band. I was doing paintings and fine art for quite a while. I had also done comics on the side but my fine art was doing well. Then the housing market crashed and nobody was buying art for foreclosed homes. 
Luckily I had been doing an extreme comic strip in the metal ‘zines and in the mini comics I was doing. I saw that a local comic convention had started. So I printed them all up and booked a table. I sold out of my first printing and a bunch of art. That is when One Last Day started. 
ZL – How did that feel, selling out of books like that? I’m guessing it must have been quite a boost as you carried on and set up an online store! What was the convention like, if you remember at all, did you have a good time there chatting and meeting fans and creators? A lot of people talk about how much the community at a convention matters to them, was that important to you at the time?
AY – It was a real boost. From that little bit of seed money I have been able to keep the ball rolling and have kept printing comics ever since. The comics scene in Tucson in the early 90s was really small and bare bones. It was me and like 2 other indie guys actively printing their own comics. I have encouraged and fostered so many people to make their own comics since then. Many writers and artists from the Tucson scene are now in the mainstream and indie comics system. 
The couple who started the Tucson Comic Con have been the best thing for our local comix and art scene. Rather than neglecting local and indie comics they embraced and promoted them. I was so lucky to be in a place where the local comic convention focused heavily on independent comic artists. 
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I see kids that I taught inking classes to that are now publishing their comics on Amazon. Kids that now give me their books and thank me for all the support and inspiration I gave them. It is humbling. Before the ‘rona I was leaving 1000s of mini comics all over town instead of fliers for the last 15 years. It has exposed people in this town and state to my art and a world of comic books they never knew existed. 
ZL – Speaking of coronavirus, I’m wondering how much that has affected your income currently? Do you rely heavily on con sales or do you have a whole set of ways to get sales, which is a terrible way of asking that I’m really interested in how you generate sales for your work, what venues and sources and what sort of percentage of sales comes from them. Have you got a regular set of fans that buy everything, are you using email communications, just facebook?
AY – In today’s art and comics world every successful artist has to be a little bit Andy Worhol and a lot of P. T. Barnum. Otherwise nobody will give a shit about you. So I have a ton of different ways to move my stuff. The website is my main hub but I do small zine fests and shows whenever I can. I have been doing OK but had to switch gears during the crisis. My online sales picked up so that helped a lot. I also have new books coming out all this year. I think that helps too.
Comic conventions at one time were a really good source of income when I first started doing them. I was making great money. Every year it has become progressively less of a viable option for creators like me. The big comic shows are just pop culture festivals. The last few years a lot of the larger shows could care less about indie comics. Table prices and entry fees are way too high for a self publisher or upcoming creator to make any money. Especially out of state shows. Hotel, travel, etc. Because of this I was only doing smaller zine/comic shows and focusing on my online sales already. The virus was a great reason to really focus on my online presence. 
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ZL – I first saw your work through a facebook group, one of the indie comics groups that sort of specializes in small press superhero and space operas, and I was wondering whether you think those groups help the creators reach more readers, or whether they are all more community pages as in it’s all people that want to make comics and they’re all working to support their own bubbles? (Obviously I’m exaggerating a little, they often have horror and then there’s oddball work that pops up, but there do seem to be a lot of big boob bad girls and massive muscles in some kind of genre thing. )
AY- I look at social media differently than most. I talk shit about comics on it but I have never used it as a political soapbox or a place to talk about my “personal journey”. I post my art and comix. That is it. I speak through my art. I like to “post and ghost”. I feel I am a healthier person for it. 
This year I have slowly been taking my art off all the platforms. They are not an unbiased purveyor of ideas. Like the original internet was intended for. Social media is making us all sick. Scientifically proven sick. 
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I have grown to hate the self imposed censorship imposed on social media by advertisers and cancel culture. We as artists should have the right to dictate our expression by taking risks. Without having to worry about some simp nerd in Silicon Valley shadow banning or blacklisting us. 
These leeches profit heavily on ALL of us. Especially artists. They work to infringe on our rights and hinder our freedom to express. The platforms are privatizing our existence. Fakebook and the Twits are just digital emotional vampires. 
They should be paying you a fee to use your content and sell it to their stupid advertisers. They make billions off you and you know what you get, a little dopamine for that “like”. Wow, sweet trade off. Not!!
We all need to stand up in some way as artists. Post fucked up art and weird shit all the time! I wanna see a sea of artistically drawn dicks and vaginas. Shitposts, and fucked up memes on my “news” feed. Random acts of artistic defiance. We need confrontational art more now than ever! I want to see original artwork that pushes against cultural dogmas and shitty societal norms. 
Instead I see oceans of fan art and trash pop culture mashups. Useless e-rage and cat pics. Art without confrontation is just advertising at this point. 
ZL – Now, that’s an interesting one, because there are two sides to the argument on this and I sort of flop wildly between the two without any great reason. I can see why social media is not going to allow seas of dicks – they are easy triggers to SEE, so they’re easy to switch off to maintain acceptability, it seems pointless to me, but is important to a lot of people, so… There’s also the issue of managing genuine freedom to express and people posting images of tentacles raping 6 year old girls and how you manage to monitor that, so it’s just EASIER not to try and figure it and blanket ban it all. 
What I think calls bullshit on their motives for me is that they’ll censor that, but allow neo-nazi lies or channels where people openly spout homophobic, racist or sexist bile. There’s a stinking dichotomy there that calls a lie to their talk of community and keeping us safe from damaging content. 
I certainly wouldn’t want to have to be the poor sod that sifted through all of this stuff to check it though!
Pippa Creme and the Pearl Necklace – Dexter Cockburn
Equally, with work like yours or – to call in someone else I follow who is always getting bumped from facebook – Dexter Cockburn – who does some great porn comics. I see these things as being completely ok and not deserving of banning, but seeing cape comics and how innately sexualised and soft porn like the women are made to look, that makes me feel very dubious, it seems wrong in that context, as it’s so pervasive and so unspoken and clandestine. 
AY – Exactly. It is weird how the mainstream sexulizes it’s heroes. The guys look just as bad. It is a form of repressed erotica. I think it all looks so funny. Balloon shaped breasts or the massive man bulge. There is a big market for that stuff so more power to them. 
It just seems erotica in comix is ok for some and not others. The censorship online is selective. Dexter is a comix friend of mine and a great example. The guidelines are so ambiguous and filled with jargon it becomes nonsense. 
I totally get censorship for criminal reasons. That is a no brainer. What I saw was not that. 
I saw the platforms actively destroy the online followings of some extreme horror artist’s I was following. Some of us had built large fan bases on Myspace and brought our fans over to FB with us. When FB started shutting accounts down it crushed a lot of those artist’s online communities and sales. A lot of artists had to start all new accounts with different names causing them to lose 1000s of followers. Some just gave up or stopped posting extreme art all together. They are still doing it to some of the Ero Goro artists from Japan. It is really fucked up.
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ZL – That’s part of the curse and benefit of social media though, they give and then they take away when you’ve made them successful. I do wonder what we can do about that though, maybe they should migrate back to Myspace, maybe the whole retreat to mailing lists is the answer? I don’t know, we need community spaces but we need them to not go dark and end up being hiding places for crime or the dark web. What do you do about it, eh? Maybe you should start curating work into new mail lists and have link sites for different peoples’ interests!!
AY – I like that idea. I have always wanted to do a monthly brochure of underground creators. Like a double sided mailer. I might do one for the Smalll Press Express to hand out at shows. Getting the word out is why I do the YouTube channel. Nobody is shedding light on the best part of comics. The odd, voiceless, strange and marginalized. I think anything that promotes the underground scene and unites indy comic artists is good. I feel every little thing helps. We are all in this sinking ship together. The mainstream comics people keep poking holes in the boat. The indy creators have to keep bailing it out.
ZL – Moving on from that unanswerable conundrum… Is community important to you and comics? Is publishing and buying and communicating with other creators a way of building a place in the wider world for the kinds of things that you enjoy and the kind of things you want to make?
AY – What community. The comics community? 
It just saddens me so much lately. The internet and social media had so much potential to dissolve physical, cultural and social boundaries to our communication around the world. 
Instead most people have developed the attention span of a gnat. I doubt anyone will actually read all this. So I am just gonna lay it all out. How I see it as an outsider looking in.
There is a massive world of art and comics that is ignored in the west. It is where I exist as a creative. I work with toy making friends in South Korea and send comix pages to Artizines in Spain. Send instant messages to slap sticker artists in Japan. All in a few seconds!! This used to take weeks, even months via phone and mail. Many here just take this shit for granted. 
I had a “stick poke” tattooist from Taiwan ask if she could use one of my mini comic images in her little shop. How sick is that!! I live for that!!
I have worked with 100s of the most creative and amazing artists from all over the world. I have had enough love and inspiration from the global art community to last me two life times!!
  The American comics community is a weird story. My books sell well. My fans are awesome. First time readers always come back. I do really well at every comic convention I have ever done, even small ones. I have printed, sold or given away thousands of my mini-comics, floppies and magazines. All over this crazy earth. 
Somehow I have largely existed as an outsider in Western comics. Other than a few supportive cats in the southwest comics scene like Brian Pulido. I feel like they largely just ignore my comics. I have had a few pros refer to my work as ‘zines’ as a sort of insult. 
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I started Blood Desert as a big middle finger to the whole corporate comics crowd. The main character is stuck with a permanent middle finger. Good luck co-opting that sucktards. 
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When I complete the World of Knonx series I wanna only make comics that are a massive fuck you to that whole unimaganitive self indulgent English centric corporate comics world. I wanna make comics for shitheads all over the world like me.
Most of the comics in the mainstream indie world are leftovers from that hokey auto-bio movement. All of them are still pining over Crumb and Pekar to this day. 
Who knew making super boring comics about your masturbation habits and history no one cares about would be considered as works of high literary art. I guess it is an easy claim to make when the critics also work for the publishers of said high grade comic “art.”
That is just the indy crowd. At this point most people’s knowledge of modern comics comes from dopey stupor hero comics and movies that are made for mouthbreathers by ex-television writers. 
These books are made by “Professional” comic book writers that get top billing over a bunch of lazy artists. These are the same “professionals” who waste their time all day on Twitter and YouTube race baiting each other and blathering nonsense about politics. Somehow they can never seem to get books out on time or any real work done. Go figure. 
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Can we all just agree that the comics Youtubers are totally obnoxious. Normal people do not care about all your dumb nerd drama. The “comics news” channels love to foment drama in the industry to make money off of more views. They live to promote division among creators. Mind numbing 4 hour live streams of inane political blather. Interviewing the same old industry jobbers about some dopey superhero comic they made 20 years ago. Effete dorks gushing jizz in their whitey tighties over their wonton nostalgia.
These formerly bullied nerds bully each other constantly online. Doxing, Blacklisting, Censoring, Attacking and Canceling each other. Bunch of grade school kid popularity bullshit. I want absolutely NO part of either side’s dysfunctional cult. These sad people must love to live in a heightened state of anxiety. 
There are 100s of amazing prolific working storytellers chomping at the bit to talk about and sell their titles. Why not interview and promote these creators. Artists who choose not to engage in either side’s petty childish games. Those creators are largely ignored or admonished for not taking sides. 
The industry seems to only want to dwell in nostalgia? A Nostalgia that actually hurts creators. I really wanna talk about Alan Moore. 
Let’s all wax about the greatness of Watchmen ONE last time and finally let it go. Watchmen is the comic book Alan Moore won’t even have in his house because of the disdain he has for the American comics industry.
Comics culture could care less about Alan. They talk about his work gushing with praise. Then they call the man a nutter behind his back. 
The majority of the comics press treated him like a clown and discounted his opinions at every turn. 
Watchmen, the comic they keep in print just so Alan does not regain any of the rights back. 
By promoting and working on Watchmen in any way they are all pretty much saying fuck you to Alan. It is just accepted by everyone. “Oh well! We should just keep screwing this dude cause we all really love those characters.” It is shameful.
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Shall I go on about the other creators that were screwed by this “industry”. Seigel, Shuster, Kirby, Finger, Simon and so many more.
The House of Morons track record with creatives is just as terrible. It would take all day to list the Big two’s transgressions against their freelancers. 
All their Editors in Chief make millions while their freelancers get crumbs.
Or maybe there is hope in the price gouging comic book store owners. They did nothing but complain about Diamond and the Big 2’s scams non stop for years. Then they still lap up everything they do or make like pablum. Accepting and still embracing this constant abuse. Over and over and over. I wonder if the majority of store owners are into BDSM? 
Should I bother mentioning all the sex predators that the major comics companies have been covering for?
So now after a long career and all my hard work building a loyal following I am supposed to kiss ass and play nice as a potential artist for them. I am supposed to work on shit I don’t care about? I get to beg for a job doing interior pages for less than minimum wage and no healthcare? No thanks. I am busy building my own worlds not piggybacking on the stolen worlds of others.
The US comics “industry” is kind of a total joke to me at this point. 
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ZL – It sounds like you are existing as part of a community though, maybe not an American comics community, but an international underground art community, does that seem fair to say? 
AY – I was actually becoming a big part of the community for a popular comics Youtube channel for a minute until I was excommunicated. The two creators that host the channel constantly espouse to be a bastion for indie creators. As Maury Povich likes to say…” that is a lie.” 
The channel blacklisted me because of a mini comic I did showing cartoon portraits of accused sex predators and general jerks working in the American comics industry. 
I am not part of Comicsgate or any other stupid comics cult. I am not a lecherous ogre who harasses women at comics shows. I am a boring family man who makes weird comics. I speak through my art not by posting constant drama online.
I made a mini comic that someone didn’t like. That was it. Instead of finding out my side of things related to the matter these hosts just booted the videos my comics were featured in off their channel. They also had admins remove my posts off other platforms related to them. I was blatantly censored by these “artists.”
So looking back I think it had nothing to do with that mini comic. They have featured sexually violent work like Vigil’s. My stuff is tame in comparison. I feel they were threatened by my output and my dopey little youtube channel. Which is laughable. 
I have worked tirelessly my whole career to support marginalized creators in my community and around the world for over 20 years. 
At this point I would rather work with the people who get what I do and dwell in quiet obscurity rather than work with these kinds of self-serving troglodyte hacks that are so prevalent in the medium of modern mainstream comics and the art world. 
Most of these “pro comic artists” are just glorified fan artists with a little bit of stylized skill. I think that’s why all their books are so derivative of all the other stuff in the mainstream lexicon. They dwell in constant nostalgia and their work is proof of it. 
I actually feel sorry for them. To have so little faith in yourself that you have to try to take down other artists is such a sad pathetic way to live. 
One thing you can count on with some artists and comics creators. Their egos are as fragile as glass.
Comics culture in the US is steeped in all this kind of nonsensical dogma. It has become an idiotic cult of reactionary clones with Youtube and Twitter accounts. 
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ZL – Thinking about that wider world of community and how there’s always been an underground arts community and sometimes people travelled through them, often linked to universities or small art publications. Do you feel like that community is something that is now easier to achieve and to curate for yourself with social media, but it involves a lot of effort and commitment to do that and that’s why it takes those in a scene, those dug into that creative feeling, to do that kind of curation?
AY – I guess It is easier to find new stuff now, but there is a lot of oversaturation online. Lots of skilled but boring fan art. Way too much fan art online. 
All the crowdfunded stuff is pretty boring and derivative of the mainstream comics they say they hate. Plus there is a high failure rate. Very slow/low delivery rate on those projects that nobody likes to talk about.
I kind of wish the companies cracked down on all the IP theft at shows and online the way they do obscenity. Before the pandemic the comic conventions in the states sucked for indie creators because of all the fanart.
ZL – Yeah, that seems to be a big issue all round, but it’s also tricky as a lot of indie creators make bucks doing commissions of existing mainstream IP. I also think that the move from mini comics and zines to pop-culture sources and attempts to be as professional as professional comics has done a lot of unspoken damage. Yeah, sure, you get a lot of a crowd, but how many are BUYERS?
AY – That is why I stopped making any kind of fanart about 15 years ago including commissions. I think fan art and commissions are a crutch for artists to lean on.
To me it shows a lack of ability to tell stories or have faith in their own creations. They are too afraid to go all in and only make and sell their own comics. They wanna draw cool spidey pin-ups not tell stories with art. There is a huge difference between the two kinds of artists.
The best Mangaka spend their whole careers telling these long form epic stories. We should aspire to that aesthetic not do a bunch of cool variant covers. 
It is easy to draw an existing IP. The design and imaginative work was done for you. You are just a human copy machine. It takes a lot of time and faith to go all in on your own ideas. I think a lot of artists try it and just give up and fall back on selling fan art at shows.
I do great at shows without any fan art. You don’t need it. I think selling fan art actually hurts indie creators. They are selling books for our competition. 
If you just offer people something new and different and work hard to sell that work they will buy it. I offer people something that is unique. Not just another Deadpool print or sketch.
ZL – Do you see yourself as part of a comics lineage, either style or approach wise? Do you feel it’s important to leave your own mark on the world, hence the making of items rather than posting online, or are you interested in building a space for now or are you trying to just get out what needs to be got out to keep your brain quiet?
AY: Comics lineage is less of a thing now because of oversaturation in the medium. Everyone can make and print their own comics now. So the key is to have your own style of storytelling. I don’t like the autobio comics genre but at least they know how to tell a story. 
That’s why I think physical media is still very important. An artist is not curtailed by the formats of printing anymore. You can adjust your style to any kind of printing process now. It used to be the other way around.
Aesthetically I want my work to be as beautiful and be as prolific as Osamu Tezuka was. Dark and creepy as Hideshi Hino‘s. Confrontational and cooky as Mike Diana‘s. With a mad dose of the dark action of a 2000AD Magazine. 
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Boiled Angel – Mike Diana
ZL – I don’t know if you’re old enough to remember the Mike Diana obscenity case and the outcome of that ridiculous situation? It was big, even in UK comic magazines at the time. I remember them telling him that he wasn’t even allowed to draw AT HOME and that they would be coming in to check that he wasn’t drawing! So, I guess there’s that as a check to what we were saying about social media silencing creators, it’s not like it’s a new phenomenon, sadly. 
AY – I started getting into making fucked up comics at the same time as him. I was making One Last Day which is nowhere near as extreme or pornographic as Mike’s stuff, but it was really violent. His case scared me into being real careful who I sent my books to. 
ZL – When did you first encounter Mike Diana’s work, then and what’s so inspiring about it?
AY- I have seen more of his work recently. I like the absolute absurdity of it. It was so hard to get out here in the west coast unless you ordered it. I am not a big fan of pornographic or cheesecake comics. I do like some of the cruder stuff that is just too weird to be arousing. The work exists more as a piece of weird art rather than porn in some odd way. I have not gotten to read a ton of his stuff. He is actually a big fan of mine on Instagram. The punk rock kid in me loves seeing a block of “likes” by Mike. I have mailed him a bunch of my comix for trade.If he is reading this “Yo man! You gotta mail me some of your books!” Heh! 
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ZL – I’m also intrigued to know how you found out about 2000AD as my understanding is that it’s not well known over in the US. What’s your favourite strip from there?
AY: I got a huge run of the re printed 2000AD and Dredd comics from a comic store when I was 13. I really love the old Rogue Trooper strips the most. They were some of the best sci fi war comics made essentially. Those artists were all emulating those old Action war comics they were reading
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Rogue Trooper – War Machine by dave Gibbons and Will Simpson
Rogue Trooper – War Machine is a work of comics art. It definitely inspired a lot in my Blood Desert series. “The Fatties” stories in the early Judge Dredd strips are some of my all time favorite comics. I have read them a hundred times. It is just so nuts. I love that line between absurd and gross.
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The Fatties – Judge Dredd
ZL – Oh yeah, those early works were really UK punk as punk can be! I’m surprised you like Rogue Trooper more than Nemesis though, Pat Mills and especially Kev O’Niell’s art is extreme as extreme art gets in comics back then. You mention in many interviews I’ve read that Japanese comics, particularly horror comics, have been an influence. How much influence do you see from Japanese horror comics in small press and self-publishing circles, it’s something I see a lot of in the creators I follow for sure, but I’m wondering what your experience is?
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AY – I follow the underground Japanese scene pretty well. I am pen pals/friends with some of the newer japanese horror artists. It is funny. They all wanna get published here and I want to get published there. 
There are huge barriers in Japanese comics for Westerners. I would kill to get World of Knonx published in Japan. It is specifically designed and made for a world audience. It needs no translation. Manga publishers should be more open to Western comic artists the way we have.
I have grown very weary of all manga flooding the market lately. Most of it is just nicer formated versions of reprints of that older stuff I read in the 80s. It is not the weird upcoming stuff you see on the shelves. 
The American publishers bend over backwards to reproduce a lot of Manga but largely ignore American artists working at the same level of productivity. It has become a one way street. 
ZL – I see that a lot of publishers seem less inclined to have cartoony horror, they seem to have decide it must all be cheesecake or more realistic, I mean, you’re not going to see the likes of Shaun McManus on Swamp Thing art chores nowadays, which seems absurd because cartooning lets you play up emotions or gore without it getting all pornographic and seedy. I wonder if part of it is that as well, they want everything in that style. It’s also something that’s changed in horror as well. You think about something like Saw and how realistic those horror movie effects are compared to, say Friday the 13th, it’s changed what horror is. You could laugh at those things, not so much Saw, they’re far more EARNEST and wanting to show things REALISTICALLY.
AY- Yes! Exactly. I have been embracing the cartoon aspect of comics very heavily. Cartooning is dying in comic books not just in the horror scene. Comics have lost the ability to move the fans to a desired emotion.
I think it has to do with the industry’s reliance on writers. Artists are usually more creative and experimental than writers. Artists think in images and writers think in words. Writers can hammer out stories all day. The storytelling artist has to really think about every panel in a conscious way and how it will move the story. Images should drive comics not inane narrative. I should be able to understand the story in a comic by just looking at the art. If not then both the writer and artist have failed. Being able to type does not automatically make your stories interesting. Kirby’s cartooning made all those comics great not Stan and his stupid dialogue. 
  Personally I don’t wanna spend 12 hours drawing the perfect building in a panel that no one will care about. I wanna move the story. Cartooning creates a fluidity through the pages that perfect structure loses. Manga is great at moving you through a story in that way. 
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ZL – So, in all of the ways you make things and with all of your feelings about being a part of US comics and international makers, what place do you see your new youtube videos playing into what you do? Is it more boredom relief or is it a way of pumping up awareness of the community you enjoy?
AY: I do the YouTube channel for fun and to shed light on independent creators. I also wanna try to create a new narrative in comics. Not just regurgitate the one fed to us by reactionary corporate comix culture.
ZL – Why the trash talking of something at the end? I ask because I have this pet theory that there’s a strong link between people doing underground comics currently, especially over the top gross out ones, and wrestling and I’m wondering whether that’s a bunch of nonsense I’ve made up, or whether this is like the trash talk between wrestlers, a funny sort of way to make a point about something, to build some low stakes drama? Or, is it a way to disarm a serious point by making it funny! 
AY: A little bit of both I guess. There is some carney action to all creatives who do it for a living. I think a long life as an artist hardens you. 
Comic book artists could learn a lot from Tattooists. Talk to a hardcase who has been making money everyday drawing. The one doing it in your hometown the longest. That is someone who can teach you a lot. They have had to put up with so much stupid shit from customers and society. They have a confidence and respect for their trade few artists do. They have real confidence that is inspiring. They won’t even fuck with some stupid walk-in. They are not gonna deal with some kid who wants a shitty Mickey Mouse tat. Some hokey fan art commission bullshit. People pay them good fucking money for their original style, skill and creativity. Comic artists conceded all that when they settled for being what amounts to storyboarders for ex-TV writers. 
Artists have to always remember Western society devalues you at every turn. You really have to learn to sell your art and self. Your skin better be real thick. You hear “no” and that “you will fail” constantly! You will work your ass off just to barely make it in most creative fields. 
ZL – Yeah, that really comes with the territory, especially if you’re coming at it from an underprivileged background, art seems to still be a very middle class opportunity and still seems to need strong patronage to make a living, so if you’re aren’t populist or aren’t from the right background you need to get money from somewhere else or learn to live cheap. 
AY – Starting out it is always a struggle in any field but comics has kind of embraced and even fostered failure among it’s creatives. A perfect example. No one with the talent level of Tim Vigil’s should ever be living in poverty. Which he pretty much is. If Tim started in tattoos he would probably be pretty set by now. Instead he chose to work in comics. 
ZL – You seem to be really knocking out your comics and developing an amazing backlist. I remember sharing a video where, I think that you were drawing a page from The Lottery, where you were filling in your spot blacks with this chunky dip pen nib and that just seemed like it would take a long time to get work done! So, I’m wondering whether you’ve changed up a gear and started doing lots of work, or am I just in circles where I’m seeing you pop up and you’ve been constantly busy for a long time?
AY – I mainly use a brush for large areas. Sometimes a fat nib. I have had the same process for the last 10 years. I have always had a pretty good work ethic with my art but my tools are just that. Lots of trial and error for the first 5-10 years. I had no one to help or any training. I am a lot faster at inking with some modern stuff but it is still the same process it has always been. I try to only work full time M-F 9-5. I love creating so much I get addicted to it. I will draw 18 hours straight if I am not careful. 
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ZL – What inspired you to get making, not necessarily the style you make, but the actual circumstances behind you getting yourself together to put out comics instead of just sketching or posting online? What is the difference for you between posting online and publishing?
AY – Posting online is just a form of promo to me. Online is so ephemeral. I feel printed comics and animation is the best way to tell new stories and get them out. Period. It is hard to say what inspired me to start creating. I can tell you how I create though. 
I have always hated the idea of needing drugs, a muse or constant inspiration as motivation. It is not a sustainable model. It is a crutch for lazy artists to lean on. We all can learn skills and borrow from influences to make pretty art but real creativity comes from our imaginations. 
Clive Barker said it in interview after interview for years! He spoke of how fostering the imagination is being lost and even stifled in today’s world. He stressed the utmost importance for working artists and children to have an active and focused imagination. He is the greatest living horror artist of our age. The Poe of our time and everyone completely ignored him!!
Well I didn’t! I would meditate and do mental exercises daily for years to try and imagine whole working worlds. Clive was 100% right. I don’t get artists’ block or any of that shit. 
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This is gonna sound super new age but it is the best way to explain it. With short meditation techniques I can light the fire of creativity instantly now. It can keep me awake some nights if I let it. My mind’s eye fills with the most moving and colorful images you could ever imagine. I have learned to embrace it and snatch stuff from the ether. It’s like a true form of art magick. When I break into the astral plane of endless creativity it recharges my inner being and overwhelms my soul with love, and joy. I am flooded with new ideas constantly. The Buddhists actually have a name for this place but the name escapes me. 
ZL – I remember reading that Moebius, Jean Giraud, the French comic artist took a similar approach, that he drew all his Moebius strips in a semi-conscious state of meditation, so it seems reasonable for you to do the same! 
AY – Exactly! I have read that and felt a kinship with him. I think Jim Woodring works in a similar fashion as well. 
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ZL – Yeah, I’ve read that about Jim Woodring as well.
Looping back a second to The Lottery, I really admire the style of character design, the shapes you put down on the page, that I’ve seen in that. I’m guessing, from what you’ve just said, that much of these things arrive semi or fully formed? How much planning do you put into character design and story content and then could you give a general idea to how you approach a story and what you’re trying to achieve with your stories?
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AY: Like I said prior, the initial ideas will come like a flood or in pieces. I will mentally “hang on” to my favorite ideas and build a story around them. Once I get most of it all sorted out in my brain I will do some general super loose thumbnails of a story or idea or the whole book. Sometimes I will start with a one shot style story and expand on it. The one shots will inspire more stories or ideas for other worlds as well. 
ZL – I know we touched on this earlier, but I’d like to dig deeper into whether you’re making money and what sort of sales you’re achieving, because, you know, I’m just damn nosey! More seriously though, I think part of making and why people cease making is an unrealistic idea of what can be achieved within an arena. The amount of people coming into comics and underground comix all thinking they’ll end up on Adult Swim or bankrolling a comfortable life always saddens me. You know they will get worn out banging their drum to sell 10 copies and lose hundreds because they completely over print. 
Which is a very tortured way of asking whether you make money from your comics or, at least break even? Are you happy to tell us numbers of sales and if not exact amounts of income, what sort of percentage of your income comes from your comic sales and for context, the kind of lifestyle you currently live?
AY: I grew up pretty poor. I was out on my own at around 17 with zero money. So it has not been an easy road for me in art and comics. I am not complaining, I have made good money off my comix.
I print modestly with print on demand services. I can print a few copies up to a few 100 at a time. It just depends on demand. You don’t need to have a warehouse of stuff. I focus on the stuff that does well.
It took a long time but I am in a great spot on my own. Because of the virus a lot of the mainstream crowd are kind of sitting around with their dicks in their hands. While I am hammering out stories. I am 100% owner of all my titles. I am not an LLC so a corporation can’t get my “creative content” without my direct consent. 
Luckily I don’t really need them. I have done the math, I make way more per page and book then I ever would with a publisher. I can create, print, promo, mail and repeat. I have no need for censors, editors, publishers, stores, mob run distro or other middle men. They are all just standing between me and making the profit from my books. 
No one will admit it, but the Cerebus model is still the best model for creators to sell their comics. If you are serious about ownership. More people should have the same faith in their work as Dave Sim does. Only without being a total jerk. 
ZL – I’m guessing your politics don’t mesh with his, but I think Dave Sim is definitely someone who has lessons for self-publishers and creators alike. If you were going to pass on any of his advice, how would you summarise what you’ve taken from his example?
AY – His politics aside he was pretty cantankerous in most of his interviews but he was not afraid to speak his mind. Everyone is so afraid to speak up in fear of never getting or keeping that “sweet corporate comics gig”. 
Dave was right about a lot of stuff. If you can’t stand up for your own work then who will? Before I started reading all his interviews I thought he was just a jerk but now I kind of get his anger. I could only imagine what the mainstream tried to pull back then when they saw he wouldn’t play ball. What’s worse is nothing has changed really. All the shit he was raving about in comics is the same or even worse. 
I think he was really hated by the industry when he started speaking out about all the shadiness going on. It always felt the comics press started attacking his political stances after he started to state his opinions about the practices of some of these publishers. I don��t agree with him on a lot of stuff politically but he never backed down and stayed true to his ideals. I admire him for that. 
Comics has a long sordid history of trying to silence voices they don’t want to hear. It has happened to me and many others still to this day.
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ZL – How long has it taken to build up your back catalogue and what sort of tail end do you currently see on your titles, are we talking release and then forget it, sustained sales over months/years or occasional bumps when you get new titles out?
AY – It took 20 years to build the whole catalogue of large format stuff. I have printed 100s of different minis along the way. I now just mainly sell my larger format floppy and magazine stuff that does well continuously. I do have a goal to be able to fill a whole small magazine size comic book box with all my different floppy comics and mags. 
ZL – And how far away from that goal are you? 
AY – I have never actually checked. I would say I am well over halfway there. 
ZL – How do your sales and income compare to where you thought you’d be when you first started making your comics or did you not really care about that, other than not losing money?
AY: It is a weird thing that exists in indie comics. It is like they are ashamed of making money. 
You hear so much altruism in indie comics. “It is not always about the money man.” Tell that dumb shit to a career tattooist. They will laugh in your stupid face while they make $200 bucks an hour and drive off in their fully customized Dodge Challenger. While you stand there with a handful of comics and empty pockets. 
We should look at indy comics like tattooing or a little like a one man touring metal band or rap act. People wanna buy my books for my nutty unique style. So, yeah I am doing better than I ever could have dreamed of in such a dismal backwards looking field. I would rather be like a Tech 9 or Frank Zappa in comics. 
ZL – Last question, for you as a fan now, if you could get everyone in the world to read one of your books or series and a book or series by someone else, what would it be?
AY: Out of all my books I would say the World of Knonx series is my crowning achievement. I dumped every skill I have developed into one massive tale.
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Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté. It is one of the most amazing comics made in the last few years. It is one of the most beautiful comics ever made. It flows like water. It is the zen of comix. I cried the first time I read It. 
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Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté
I only make silent or wordless comics. So that is mainly what I am into. It is more common in European comics. So I try to mainly follow works coming from there. 
Comics should move us and excite us. Gross you out or move you to a new place emotionally. Not just be inane 80s TV sitcom serials. I am only interested in comics that exist and aspire to be comics. I have no interest in storyboards with dialogue. 
ZL – Thanx for your time Adam!
AY- Thanks for this in-depth interview. It is not often I get to talk deeply about things in comix that I care about. I never really get to explain how I create or how I truly feel about the medium.
I am grateful for the opportunity to speak my mind. To everyone who has ever supported me and my art. I truly frikkin’ love you all!! 
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all art copyright and trademark its respective owners.
content copyright iestyn pettigrew 2020
  Adam Yeater, underground comix creator, talks in depth about his practice, his work and how comics remains closed to many outside of mainstream companies #comics #horror #underground #selfpublishing #fantasy #inspiration We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper.
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