#what a fuckin album jesus

[ink-n-shadowfiction]

Omg I am so head over heels for your bodyguard!simon AU ;w;

Nah because with my sensitive ass the “M’ not touching you again” would instantly make me sad like SO fast :’3

so, how would he react if she got all pouty because he said that? Because in all actuality she definitely wants him to touch her more often, yknow? Like it ain’t even gotta be sexual…probably-

🍋-

i like the way you think, anon🍋 >:) this one's not sexual (unfortunately) BUT it is cute and a bit angsty so enjoy

pairing: bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rockstar!reader (link to all works in this au)

genre: somewhere between fluff and angst

word count: 588

warning: mean!ghost at first, then soft!ghost, crying for something small, drunk!reader

"what did i say when you were on vacation last month, hmm?" ghost grumbled as he lead you through the lobby of your apartment building, keeping a grip on your upper arm. "m'not. fucking. touching you like that."

you had gone out with the rest of your bandmates, having a few drinks (way more than you needed) to celebrate the upcoming release of your first album. you weren't completely wasted, but you were damn close—your face flushed, steps a bit wobbly, eyes bleary.

ghost kept as much distance between you two as he could, but he knew he had to help you walk. so he gripped your upper arm to steady your steps, walking slow enough to help you keep pace with him. he glared down at you, but when he noticed the pout on your face and the tears beginning to form in your eyes, his eyes softened.

it wasn't the usual bratty pout you'd use—no, this one appeared legitimately sad.

"y-you're so mean, ghost. i just—" your sentence paused in the middle as a hiccuped sob shook your chest, your free hand coming up to wipe at the tears and smearing some mascara down your cheek. "i just wanna hold your hand. but y-you don't like me. why don't you like me?"

ghost let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head a bit as he approached the elevator and pushed the call button. he moved to stand in front of you, his grip on your arm falling away. "dove, c'mon—you're ruinin' that pretty makeup on y'face." he thumbed at the mascara on your cheek, frowning under his mask as the black only smeared more.

you tried to push his hand away, but the amount of alcohol in your veins made your movements slow and uncoordinated. "i don't care, ghost. just like you don't care about me."

"god—would you stop that?" ghost grumbled out in frustration as he ran a hand over his mask, trying to regain his composure before looking back down at your teary face. he lifted a hand up to grip your chin, forcing your eyes on him. "i obviously fuckin' like you. i wouldn't be walkin' you home from the bloody club if i didn't, 'kay? you're just drunk right now—and you get a bit emotional when you're drunk."

you sniffled up the tears lodged in the back of your throat as your unsteady eyes met ghost's, skin warming at the way his gloved fingers trapped your chin in his grip. "t-then why won't you just hold my hand? i-it's not like i'm asking you to kiss me or date me or somethin'. it'll make me feel better."

ghost let out a scoffed breath as he turned away from you, shaking his head and grumbling something under his breath before you felt his leather-covered fingers lace with yours. the elevator dinged and pulled open with a hiss, and ghost gently tugged you inside with a squeeze to your hand. "there—happy now? gonna stop being a little crybaby about it?"

as soon as you felt ghost's hand in yours, a drunken smile smeared across your lips, warmth coating your skin as you stumbled into the elevator behind him. "you have big hands."

"jesus." ghost muttered with a shake of his hand, using his free hand to punch the button for your floor and watching the elevator doors close in front of you two. "don't get used to this, 'kay? m'only doing this because you're bloody cryin' over it."

[suicide-bullet]

reader is religious, euronymous fucks her woooo!!!

fem reader + oc, if u want a specific description request pls! corruption kink, degradation kink, praise kink too, pet names, name calling, blasphemy, freaky smut, cheating, hair pulling, dom!euronymous, sub!reader, stranger to lovers.

y/n walked into the unfamiliar store, her blonde curls bouncing with every step. her short, black mini skirt riding up, as she adjusted her leather jacket. her crucifix lay on her chest, bouncing atop of her breasts. for a religious girl she certainly showed a lot of skin, as her mother would say. the bell rang, the long haired man at the counter spun on his feet. she stood to the left of the store, flicking through the albums.

she looked around, spotting many upside-down crosses, making her grimace. y/n walked towards the counter, giving the man a smile. euronymous looked her up and down with a sly smirk, "you sure you're in the right place, little lady?" that same smirk soon turned into something else, when he spotted that necklace. she rolled her eyes, "i'm looking for an album for my boyfriend. it's his birthday tomorrow."

euronymous stared into her soul, a mix of anger and jealousy spread across his face. why did he like this girl? she was just one of those 'egotistical god whores.' he wondered how she felt about the churches, something inside of him urging to ask.

"he mentioned a name, scorpio or something." she fiddled with her black-painted fingernails. euronymous raised his eyebrows at the small girl, "scorpions?" she nodded, her eyes lit up. "yes! that was it, thankyou." euronymous chuckled, "your boyfriend is a fucking poser." her eyebrows knitted together, "what?" she spat. "you fuckin' heard me." he spoke slowly, rage clear in his voice. his eyes longed on her chest, on that necklace. "you one of those goody christian whores?"

she stayed quiet, he leaned forward. "you deaf or somethin? answer me." he demanded, making her knees buckle. "i'm not a whore." she snarled, igniting a fire within him. "don't fuckin' talk to me like that." y/n scoffed, "you can't tell me what to do." she remarked, he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her behind the counter, in front of him. he grabbed her necklace, holding it in his clutch. "you're a good girl, hm? a saint, an angel." he spoke, looking into her brown orbs. "yes." she whimpered, looking up at him.

he could smell her from beneath him. mixtures of floral, cocoa and vanilla. on the other hand, he smelt of cigarettes, cologne and strangely blood. "then why are you here? can't you see? i'm a satanist, baby." she grimaced yet again, "you need jesus." euronymous grabbed her neck, "why you always got a fuckin' attitude? your boyfriend doesn't fuck you hard enough, is that it?" y/n shook her head, "my boyfriend fucks me just fine."

"oh, sweetheart. he fucks you? your little god wouldn't be so happy about that now would he?" euronymous teased, she pouted her lips, tears pricking in her eyes. "maybe you need to repent for your sins, i can help you with that." he grabbed her waist, rubbing against the soft skin, his lips latching on to her neck, she let out a quiet moan. "no, stop. this is wrong, i, i don't even know you. and, and i have a boyfriend." euronymous continued, she didn't fight it, letting out whimpers as he travelled down her neck.

a pool of slick formed in her underwear, as she smashed her lips against his. his hands cupped her face, he bit down on her lip, making her them fall apart. his tongue entering her mouth, her own fighting for dominance. "atta' girl." he mumbled, wrapping her legs around his waist, holding onto her thighs, placing her onto the counter. his hands groped her skin, ripping her black fishnets. "fuck." y/n moaned, her bangs sticking to her now sweaty forehead. he smirked, rolling her skirt up onto her hips, looking down at her deep red, lacy thong. "such a good girl, all for me." he gently moved her thong to the side, dipping a finger into her wetness.

"fuck, you're so wet already. jesus." he blasphemed, his thumb circling her clit. she moaned out in pleasure, reaching her arms out to land around his neck. her nails scratched up and down his back, making euronymous groan. he shoved two fingers into her aching hole, making her let out a downright pornographic moan. "shit, oh my god." euronymous smirked, "there's no gods in here, baby. just me." he curled his finger inside of her, hitting that sweet spot that made her toes curl, and her eyes roll back.

"shit, please. please. i need you." she begged, her hands tangled in his hair. "say it again. say my name, euronymous." he said, she whimpered. "please, euronymous. i need you." he rubbed her clit, driving her over the edge. "awh, that's just not gonna cut it, sweet girl. what do you need? use your words." he teased, she groaned. "your cock. please." she pleaded, and he smiled.

he unbuckled his belt, unzipping his black jeans. she moved a hand down to her pussy, he immediately swatted it away. "no, you fucking slut. stop. do i have to tie you up? hm?" she shook her head, "good girl." he pulled his dick out of his underwear, stroking it a few times, precum coated the tip. he then ragged her hair, making her yelp. euronymous bent her over the counter, guiding his dick towards her cunt, dragging it between her folds. "euronymous, please." she begged again, he slapped her ass, slipping into her hole. "fuck, you're so tight." she moaned out, his length filling her up.

he instantly began moving, drilling into her pussy, giving her no time to adjust to his size. "oh my god!" she screamed, as he roughed the flesh of her thighs, before his hands gripped her hips violently, for sure leaving handprints. "yeah, that's right bitch. i'm your god." he groaned out, one of his hands gripping onto the necklace, pulling it. she felt an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach, one that her boyfriend could have never given her. "shit, fuck. euro- i'm close." he pounded harder into her, abusing her pussy. "don't fuckin' cum till i say you can." he commanded, she whimpered and whined. "shut the fuck up!" he yelled, gripping onto her hair.

tears pricked her eyes, sobs racked throughout her body. "oh you gonna cry? you think that's gonna make me feel bad? shut up and fucking take it, whore." she gasped, he slapped her ass again, as she felt a knot form in her stomach. "please, i can't! s'too much!" he felt his own orgasm taking over him, as she clenched around his dick.

"fuck, go ahead, baby. cum for me." euronymous insisted, his dick twitched inside of her, as they came in unison. he groaned into her ear, kissing down her neck, leaving multiple hickeys. "good girl, you were so good for me." he whispered sweet words into her ear, rubbing his hands over her waist and hips. he pulled his clothes back on, before pulling her panties back up, and pulling her over his shoulder. "what are you doing?" she managed to whisper-yell out. "m' gonna clean you up." he responded, she sighed softly, as he lay her down on the basement couch.

he wet a flannel, cleaning her thighs up, his cum still oozing down them. he grabbed one of his t-shirts for her to wear, ushering her to stand up, so he could slip it over her head. he sat lay down next to her, his head on her chest, listening to her heart beat. "you did so well, sweetheart. i'm so proud of you." he spoke, reaching her hand up to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles.

"y/n, where are you?" the two heard a voice shout from upstairs, "you can't fucking leave me, you bitch!" he continued. euronymous' eyebrows knitted together, his jaw clenched. "you just let that cunt speak to you like that?" y/n shrugged, a frown visible on her face. "no, fuck no. you're a sweet girl, y/n. i wont let anything happen to you, okay? you're not going anywhere with him, ever again." euronymous stood up, "ronymous' baby, where are you going?" y/n questioned, following after him.

she stopped in her tracks, hearing the yells of her, now ex, boyfriend, and the yells of euronymous. let's just say, her ex never stepped foot in that store again.

i love writing for euronymous, pls send requests!!!

[noxturnalpascal]

The Chase (Part 1)

SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader   (5.4k)

DARKAU! SEQUEL TO THE HUNTED. POV will switch between Joel and Reader. This is dark, even darker than the first part. Read the warnings if you’re worried. Skip them if you don’t want anything to be spoiled.

Summary: Joel Miller is on the run after being released by his captor - a woman who claims to be a killer just like him. He’s so focused on trying to outrun her that he hasn’t killed anyone in months. Will her obsession or his own be his undoing?

Warnings for Part 1&2: 18+ MDNI. This is dark. Unprotected PiV sex, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, kidnapping, stalking, bondage, violence, punching, kicking, slapping, choking, blood, mention of needles, talk of murder. *TW: Character Death*

A/N: REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD! When you see "*****" - that indicates a POV switch. This is Part 1, at 5.4k words (there is almost no smut here - sorry), Part 2 will be slightly longer and will have smut.

He’s been on the run for almost five months now, though it feels longer. He saw the hungry look in your eyes when he suggested you let him go in order to chase after him again, but when the needle went into his neck he thought it was all over. Suffice to say that ever since he came-to in that empty garage he has been scrambling to stay two steps ahead of you. 

What he realized too late was that you still weren’t planning on playing fair. You left his wallet but took his driver’s license. His actual driver’s license with his actual home address on it. He also realized you had searched through his truck when you cleared out his cabin, taking all of his ‘hunting supplies’. And finally, it struck him much later than it should have that the phone you kept waving in front of his face was his own phone, which you also took with you.

So you have the location of his northern cabin, his home address, and would probably be able to find his secondary southern cabin with his map data in his phone. All three were burned. He has to start from scratch, and he has to do it all while staying hidden. He decides to risk it and immediately heads home, thinking there’s a chance that if he drives through the night, he might beat you there. If you didn’t head there as soon as you left, and maybe you didn’t - thinking it was too obvious of a place to start  - he has a shot.

He gets there and the house appears empty, no strange car in the driveway, doors locked the way he left them. He thinks things are looking up. Then he finds another note on his kitchen table. It says ‘Miss me yet?’ in a looser, more erratic handwriting scrawled in the middle of a large piece of paper. Covering the rest of the paper are lipstick prints smooched in varying shades and intensities. Jesus fuckin’ christ, he thinks, you are unhinged.

He checks the house carefully, looking in closets and under furniture, but you aren’t there. You must have been there for a little bit, there is evidence you made yourself some food and took a shower, but didn’t stick around. He gets right to work on his plan. He showers, his reflection and another lipstick print staring back at him from the vanity mirror. Then he spends the morning packing up anything he thinks he’ll need into boxes and totes and limping them out to his truck bed, his leg wound still fresh.

He doesn’t pack much, he’s not that sentimental. He packs up some old photo albums, all of his non-perishable food, a bunch of cash, a variety of clothes, a variety of weapons, and all of his camping supplies. While packing he notices that you spent enough time in the house to go through a lot of his things. You have stolen a bunch of his clothes, his toothbrush, some photos off his walls, and his pillow.

He makes some phone calls to arrange for the packing up and donating of the rest of the items in his house and then selling the house itself, making up some excuse about moving to his cabin permanently. He gives his forwarding contact number as the burner phone that he picked up at a Walmart halfway back home. 

Neither of his cabins were purchased through ‘regular channels’ and his real name isn’t associated with either of them, so they should be safe to hold on to for now but as long as you know about them he can’t step foot near them. He gives his truck a very thorough once-over for tracking equipment and leaves his neighborhood. 

That was 21 weeks and 3 days ago.

He was so careful at first. He would constantly check his mirrors to watch for following cars. He wouldn’t use any roadside motels or even register at campsites, preferring to drive deep into public land and boondock in his tent. He washed up and did his laundry in creeks, ate the canned food he’d packed up, and even utilized his boy scout skills - foraging for edible plants and hunting small game animals. 

He would think about you constantly. Not even because he wanted to, but because he was constantly gripped by the panic that you were on his tail. One time he could have sworn he heard your voice calling his name as he leaned over a mountain stream, the bubbling water carrying it downstream. He saw movement across the water out of the corner of his eye, but when his head jerked up, all he could track was the tall dried grass swaying in the light breeze. 

After a couple months of this behavior his food supply was completely tapped out. He was tired of sleeping on the ground, tired of washing his body in cold streams, and tired of hiding away like a prey animal. He got in his truck and drove for three straight days back to the deep south, so he could escape the cold of winter where he had been further north. Halfway through the second day he was so tired he almost pulled over to sleep, but then it was as if lightning jolted through his entire body when he thought he saw your face in a passing car. A double take relieved him of that fear, but it woke him up enough to keep him going for another day.

He checked into an old roadside inn that he drove by twice before stopping. He didn’t see any security system outside of the building. In the office he inquired about a room and noticed that they weren’t even using electronic equipment, instead keeping a written logbook of guests. He paid for a week in cash and when they asked for his ID, he handed them one of his fakes, watching as they copied the false information into their book.

The musty smell of the room didn’t bother him, nor did the squeaking of the ancient air conditioner in the window, nor did the roaches that scurried out of view when he turned on the bathroom light. This place was such an upgrade to what he’d been living with, it felt like the Ritz. He took one of the longest showers he’d ever taken, groaning with relief at the warm water and the clean feeling of his skin when he’d slathered it with soap. 

He gave his hair a proper wash, the first in many weeks, and felt just how long it’d grown. He ran his fingers through his hair and remembered your fingers in his hair, scratching his skull and tugging at his curls. He remembered your mouth on his neck, and your moans in his ear, and before he could stop his thoughts, he was half hard in the shower. He refused to touch himself and give any merit to those thoughts of you, that his traitorous body was enjoying.

What he should have been thinking about is not what happened last time you caught him, but what might happen if you catch him again. He knows you’re crazy. He thinks you’re like him, at least that’s what you said. And if you’re anything like him, then he knows you’re very dangerous. He tried many times to search for you with the limited clues he had, using his data on his prepaid phone. But with almost nothing to go on, any attempt at getting additional information about you had been futile.

After a week of sleeping in scratchy sheets and listening to the sink drip all hours of the day, he’s ready to move on. He didn’t just stop somewhere for the relative comforts. He stopped somewhere in order to stop running. He wanted to stand still for a time, to see if you would pop up behind him. He wondered if he could catch your scent on the wind, sense any sign of you approaching. It was a week of silence, of stillness, of nothing. It was a week of peace.

His next weeks of travel took him to remote towns along back roads. He didn’t spend more than a couple nights in each place, but he was able to replenish his canned food stash, wash clothes at a laundromat, do some repairs on his truck, and replace some of his hunting and camping supplies that had worn out with use. He even splurged and got himself a new tent, the old one having sprung a leak a week before he stopped using it.

The pressure to stay hidden starts to lift off his shoulders. He feels less like a frightened baby gazelle being stalked by a lioness. He doesn’t feel the need to constantly check over his shoulder, fearing the ghost of your hot breath on the back of his neck. He is careful but he’s more relaxed. He decides to stick by the Gulf of Mexico, and travels between four states now, repeating stops in little out-of-the-way towns. He sees familiar faces, but finds that it benefits him.

In another life he was handy, taught by his dad to build things, to fix them, to take them apart and put them back together. He has struck up a deal with some of the motel owners to do some minor repairs when he stays there, in exchange for a reduced rate. He doesn’t have to go more than a week now without a hot shower. He helps repair machines at the laundromats in exchange for free laundry services, so now he doesn’t have to re-wear dirty clothes. 

Several food markets give him boxes full of dented cans and near-expired products. He may wait until he looks dirty and unkempt enough and stop by these places to give them the impression that he’s struggling and homeless. It very well may be a working ruse, but it also might not be a total ruse. He kind of is struggling and homeless, thanks to you. It’s been almost two months of this routine. He still uses fake IDs, pays in cash, and doubles back when driving well-worn roads.

To further conserve his cash supply, he alternates between stopping at the motels and camping on public land. If he’s honest with himself it’s also not just about saving money. He isn’t ashamed to admit that he enjoys the amenities that the cheap little roadside stops provide as compared to the backwoods camping he endures, but his urges start to creep up on him when he’s around people for too long. Sticking himself in a tent all alone in the middle of the woods keeps him from killing anyone.

One afternoon last month he entered a small room in a dump outside of Lafayette, LA, where the guest complained the door wouldn’t lock properly. Without even needing the masterkey, he entered the empty room and was overwhelmed with the feminine smell that hit him immediately. An open suitcase laid on the bed, items of clothing draped along the side. A bottle of perfume, hand lotion, and lip gloss sat on the dresser next to the TV. Each item his eyes landed on was more tempting than the last. 

How badly he wanted to snatch a piece of clothing, to pocket the perfume, to leave the lock unfixed so he could return to the room later and put his hands around the throat of the woman who was staying there. It took every ounce of self control to only fix the lock and leave empty-handed. He couldn’t give into his urges. He couldn’t draw any attention. He couldn’t risk you hearing about his lapse in judgment.

He checked out of the hotel that very day and drove into Mississippi to escape the scent of the room with the now-fixed lock. You were on his mind the entire drive. He hadn’t thought about you that much in a long time. But as he laid in his tent in the growing dark, his mind was consumed by you. He couldn’t remember what you smelled like, but he imagined. He barely got the chance to touch your skin last time, but he fantasized. He definitely recalled what you felt like; the weight of you bouncing on his lap, the wetness of your tight cunt. Your moans played on repeat in his mind as he, not for the first time, fucked his fist while dreaming of fucking you again. 

The moniker little bird passes his lips as his cum spills over his hand, and he wonders if this delusion will ever come true. Will he get to fuck you again? Will he want to? Will you want to? What will happen if you catch him? Sex might be the last thing on your mind. You’re fucking crazy. You might just kill him. He might not even see it coming.

Yesterday he was working on the back of a dryer in a laundromat and he listened as a young man, trying to impress a young lady, explained how he was traveling alone in an old cargo van across the country to the grand canyon. He listened to this man confess everything you don’t want a stranger to know, only to have the girl giggle and walk away, excusing herself while admitting that she doesn’t speak English very well. 

Joel took almost three hours to repair the dryer because he spent so much time kneeled behind it planning a way to inconspicuously kill the young idiot without alerting you or the authorities as to his activities. By the time he had a plan in place and emerged from behind the appliances, the young man was gone. He allowed common sense to return to him before he could run outside to seek the camper out, and carry out his desire for blood.

And that is how Joel finds himself setting up his tent again, this time in the Florida Panhandle. He has once again had to run away from his urges, which grow stronger with each passing week. It’s been almost five months since you left him in that rented storage garage and almost six months since he killed anyone. He hasn’t gone this long between kills in a very long time. He likes to think of himself as methodical and controlled, even though you called his cabin disgusting and implied he was sloppy. 

But he has self control. He doesn’t kill on a whim, he plans it. He keeps it discreet. No cop has ever come knocking on his door. No one at all has. Except you. Even if you picked berries in his yard instead of knocking, you knew what you were doing. You were hunting him. He had no idea. He thought you were alone. He thought you were scared. He thought you were weak. He thought he was in control. How wrong he was.

And how wrong he is now. How wrong he’s been to have stopped looking over his shoulder. How wrong he’s been to let himself get comfortable with his surroundings. How wrong he’s been to ever doubt that you could catch up to him. Because as he turns around to reach for the rainfly to his tent, there you stand. Hands on your hips at the tailgate of his truck, smiling.

“Hi honey.”

*****

You watch him intake a quick breath, his face falling in dismay, his pupils dilating. It’s so obvious how hard he’s trying not to look at his rifle, which sits on the tailgate behind you, partially covered up by his tent’s rainfly. He makes a quick calculation as his brows knit on his forehead and you see him twitch forward an inch.

“Watch it now honey,” you point one finger to your hip, tilting your pelvis to display the 8” knife hanging from your belt. He freezes again and eyes the knife, then rolls his eyes. He must recognize it. You took it from his truck almost five months ago.

“Looks a little familiar,” he huffs.

“Does it? I had to replace the one I used to have…. left it somewhere a while back,” and you nod towards his leg. He winces, then looks at you for a moment before a cocky smile settles on his face. There’s that shit-eating grin you missed.

“I got myself a new one too,” and he tilts his own hip, showing off the sheathed knife hanging from his belt loop. “It’s ten inches.”

Your eyes go wide in a mocking display and you tsk your tongue against your teeth. “Oh honey, haven’t you heard? It’s not about size…. it’s about knowin’ what to do with it.”

His smile turns ugly. He’s feeling confident. He slowly reaches his hand back as he takes a step forward, muttering, “oh trust me I know what to do with it.”

You quickly reach your hand back into your waistband and grab the small revolver out, pointing it at him with a smile. “This look familiar too?” You ask him, mockingly, watching as he once again freezes in place. His smile is gone, replaced by an annoyed look as he registers that the gun you now have aimed at him also once belonged to him.

“You don’t really look happy to see me, honey.”

“Should I be?”

“Well the way we left things, I just thought you were gonna be missin’ me a lot more.” He is frozen still, watching you wide-eyed, struggling to find the words that will piss you off the least. He kind of looks scared shitless, this is amazing. He looks down for a moment and when he meets your eyes again, his whole face has softened.

“I did miss you sweetheart.”

There he is, there’s your charmer. You can’t help the smile that flashes across your face.

“Oh you did? You missed me?”

“All the time,” he nods slowly. “Every single day,” he adds. Now he’s pushing it. You try not to roll your eyes. You don’t want to be a brat after all this time apart.

“What’d you miss about me?”

Silence. Too long of a pause. He holds his breath and then begins to stutter something out. It’s too late. You’ve caught his lie.

“You didn’t miss me you fuckin’ liar. You’ve been runnin’ away from me for months,” you seethe.

“Runnin’ away was the point sweetheart,” he attempts to soothe you. “This game we’re playin’. Me: Mouse, You: Cat. That’s the game, right?” 

Maybe he has a point. It still annoys you. Maybe it even hurts your feelings a little. Feelings?

“I just thought you’d be sufferin’ more than you seem to be,” you try not to sound whiny.

“I’ve been so busy sweetheart,” he coos.

“Busy?”

“Busy tryin’ to stay two steps ahead of yo-” 

You can’t even help the laugh that bursts out of you. You clap your empty hand over your mouth but it’s too late. He’s got his face scrunched up, watching you too closely. Oops. You might as well tell him.

“That’s what you’ve been busy doin’? Is that what you think?”

The crease between his eyes deepens, his body settling into his stance while also visibly tensing up. He’s bracing for your next sentence. 

“Were you two steps ahead of me washin’ your laundry in that creek in Wyoming?” He’s holding his breath. “Or what about when you finally came back to civilization in Arkansas? Man, you really needed that shower. You stunk to high heaven!” His eyes look like they could pop out of his head. “How many steps ahead of me did you think you were in Mississippi, when you got in your tent, turned off your lantern, and whispered little bird into the dark?”

“What the fuck?!?” he gasps out, expression wild. “What th- How long- Did-,” he can’t even think of what question to ask first. “Was I ever even one step ahead of you?” he says through clenched teeth.

You just shrug your shoulders, trying your best to hide your smile, fully enjoying his realization and subsequent freakout.

“I shoulda fuckin’ known you weren’t gonna play fair,” he’s shaking his head, scowling.

“The fuck you mean by that? Play fair?”

“You always had the upper hand. You haven’t been playin’ fair. AGAIN.”

You mockingly frown at him. “If I wasn’t playin’ fair then why didn’t I just hide under your bed and kill you when you went home?” Men always have something to fucking complain about.

“I dunno. Probably has to do with the fact you’re fuckin’ crazy.”

What the fuck did he just say? Your right eye twitches. Your fingers tighten on the revolver.

“You had all the advantages,” he continues. “You had my first and last name, my home address, and my fuckin’ cellphone. I don’t even know your first nam-”

“And whose fuckin’ fault is that?” you interrupt, absolutely livid.

He snaps his eyes to yours, noting your tone. “I-”

“You never asked me my fuckin’ name did you?” you snarl.

“I-”

“You didn’t. Never asked. It was all wham, bam, thank you ma’am.” you glower.

“That’s not exactly how I remember it goin’ down,” he mutters under his breath.

“What’s my fuckin’ name?” you take a step forward, white-knuckle gripping the gun now.

His eyes flicker between yours and the revolver in your hand.

Your eyes bore into his, growing wider and wider. His mouth opens and then shuts, his pupils fully dilated. He swallows loudly, the only sound he makes.

“Get in the fuckin’ truck,” you growl, pointing towards the passenger side with the gun.

He stiffly marches to the passenger side and plops himself on the seat, pulling the door closed once seated. You raise your leg and stop the door from closing with your foot.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute cowboy,” you mock. You grab handcuffs out of your back pocket with your free hand, the other still pointing the revolver at him. You toss him the handcuffs and warn him, “make ‘em tight, this ain’t my first rodeo.” He clicks them into place and then you double check them, giving each a couple more clicks until the metal is digging into his wrist bones. 

Slamming the door closed and walking around the back, your arm sweeps his rainfly and his rifle off the tailgate onto the ground. You close and lock the back up, and round the truck to the driver’s side door. You look in through the window and make eye contact with him, his face expressionless. You know that getting into a small space with him is dangerous even if he’s handcuffed. Better not to have a gun for him to grab.

Well below the window and out of his eye-line, you flip the revolver open and let the loaded bullets fall into the grass. You flip it closed and tuck it back in your waistband at the small of your back. Opening the door, you climb in the driver’s seat. You hope he thinks it’s still loaded. Part of you even hopes he reaches for it, so you can punish him for his indiscretion.

He lied about missing you. He didn’t seem to be suffering without you. He looked like he was having fun playing cub scout in the woods. He called you crazy. He said you weren’t playing fair. He’s acting like a fucking victim when you gave him 21 weeks and 3 days more to live than you had originally planned. What an ungrateful fucking asshole. He has ruined this reunion.

*****

You drive in silence, which he takes as a bad sign. He can vaguely hear you grumbling under your breath through clenched teeth and see you white-knuckle gripping the steering wheel. He thought he had you calm for a minute back there. He was smiling, you were smiling, things were looking up. And then he said something that pissed you off, right about when he said you weren’t playing fair. He’d insulted you and now you were taking him somewhere, probably to kill him.

He thinks about grabbing the wheel, about grabbing his knife, about going for the gun he’s pretty sure is back in your waistband. But he knows you have the knife on your left side and probably a syringe hidden somewhere waiting to stab him with if he makes the wrong move. He sits in silence during the short drive and feels slight relief when you pull his truck up to a cabin, smoke billowing out of the chimney. This is better than what he was expecting - a six foot hole in the ground.

You park the truck right outside the cabin’s front door, exit the vehicle and head inside, front door slamming behind you. You’ve left him out in the truck alone. He should run. But he’s handcuffed, and you have his truck keys. What did you do with his rifle? He slowly exits the truck cab and shuts the door as quietly as possible, watching for movement at the cabin’s door. He heads to the back of the truck and quickly realizes you’ve locked both the tailgate and the bed cap’s door closed. Looking through the windows he doesn’t see his rifle and assumes you left it at his campsite. 

He might be willing to run for it with these handcuffs still on but he can’t leave everything in this truck and take off with no weapon at all. You’d catch him again in no time. He can’t run, he has nowhere else to go. He has to go inside the cabin, which of course you already knew and is the reason why you didn’t bother to drag him inside or babysit him until he came in.

He walks inside the front door and you immediately shout “SHOES!” His feet shuffle as he skids to a stop. You’re less than six feet away, at the sink of the small kitchen, not even bothering to turn and look at him. He toes his dirty boots off at the door as he looks around the small cabin, assessing the layout. To his left is a small couch, chair, and wood burning stove. Beyond the small sitting area is probably a bathroom and at the back of the cabin he sees a bunk bed through the open door.. On his right is the tiny kitchenette and directly in front of him sits a small dining table. 

He can’t help but notice that sitting on top of the otherwise empty table is the small, shiny revolver. He can’t help but notice it because it’s glaringly obvious. It’s clearly not an accident. You left that there for him to see as soon as he entered the cabin, turning your back to entice him into grabbing it, probably so you could shoot him with a different gun you have tucked into your waistband now. It’s such an obvious trap, he’s actually insulted that you think he’s that stupid. 

“Come ‘ere,” you snap, grabbing his attention.

He waits a beat but shuffles towards you, your back still turned. When he comes up behind you, you turn around, a knife in your hand. He flinches slightly and hopes you don’t notice. It’s a paring knife. You’re peeling potatoes. Knife still in your right hand you grab onto his handcuffs, pulling his arms up in front of him. You reach into your pocket with your other hand and produce the handcuff key, unlocking them without a word. 

He resists the urge to rub at his wrists where the metal has been digging into his bones. You point towards the back, at the door he assumes is the bathroom, and then turn back to the sink. You still aren’t speaking. You must still be pissed but at least he’s still alive. He won’t test your patience. He heads into the bathroom and quietly closes the door behind him, noticing a cardboard box sitting on the toilet. 

Inside the box is a change of clothes, a toothbrush, deodorant, and shaving supplies. He recognizes all of them as items you stole from his home all those months ago. He showers, shaves, changes, and takes a deep breath to steel himself as he exits the bathroom. You remain at the kitchen sink, the gun remains on the table.

He stands just outside the bathroom, able to see the entire cabin from his vantage point. Behind him is the bedroom, bunk bed on one side of the room and a double bed on the other. He can’t help but notice his old pillow on the unmade side of the double bed, presumably where you’ve been sleeping. The larger room in front of him is filled with the smell of dinner, a large stockpot simmering on the stove.

He slowly makes his way into the kitchen, looking into the pot and seeing a creamy stew, green flecks rolling along the surface as it gently bubbles. He approaches you timidly and sees you’re still armed with a paring knife, slicing strawberries now. He takes a risk and places his hands on your hips. You still your movements, but don’t move to stop him. 

He’s pretty sure you have a weapon stashed somewhere. He slowly moves his hands along your hips towards your belly button. No gun tucked in the front. He presses the front of his body up against the back of yours. He hopes it’s not obvious that he’s checking for a weapon at your back now. He feels nothing but your hair tickling his nose. He inhales. You smell like a campfire. 

He presses his nose deeper into the back of your head and inhales again. He faintly smells the shampoo from the shower. He realizes he’s still gripping you at your stomach and pulling you into him while pressing himself into you. He also notices his growing erection is pressed against you, digging into your ass. You haven’t resumed your strawberry slicing but you haven’t stabbed him either, which is a surprise.

He lets go of his squeezing grip of you and puts his hands chastely back on your hips. He waits while you slowly resume your preparation of the last of the strawberries. Impulsively, he moves his head to the side of yours and noses around the shell of your ear, his freshly shaved face brushing against your cheek. He can’t stop himself from inhaling again, memorizing your scent.

Suddenly losing all control, he closes his eyes, kissing just below your ear and slowly down your neck. A part of his brain tells him to keep checking for weapons and so he moves one hand up to cup your breast and the other hand down, fingers dipping below your waistband. He hears the clatter of the knife being dropped in the sink and his eyes snap open, you turn in his arms to face him. You gently push him backwards, his arms dropping back to his sides.

“Dinner’s ready,” as you nod to the table, an obvious instruction to sit down.

You ladle the stew from the pot on the stove into two bowls, setting one down in front of him and the other down in front of you. You drop a spoon in each bowl and sit down across from him, the revolver now serving as the meal’s centerpiece. He still won’t look at it, knowing it’s a trap. You bring a spoonful to your lips, blowing on the steaming liquid.

“Eat,” you order, your eyes not leaving his.

He grabs the spoon and mimics you, blowing on the steaming soup before taking a loud slurp. It’s very hot. You’re still watching him. What even is this? He thought you were going to kill him but instead you brought him here. What are you doing? You made him shower. You implied he should shave. You cooked him dinner. He swallows another burning spoonful. Are you playing house? What the fuck is going on?

This is just part of your game. You’re fucking crazy. 

You’re still blowing on the spoon in front of your face, watching him. He lifts another spoonful to his lips, and freezes. You haven’t put that spoon in your mouth. You’re just staring at him, watching him eat. He looks down, past his spoon, into the bowl. What is this? What is he eating? He looks back to you, your eyes still boring into his own, still gently blowing on your spoon.

“Eat your dinner,” you bark, “little bird,” you quietly add.

What. 

Is. 

This?

*****

NEXT PART: The Chase (Part 2)

**CABIN LAYOUT POST IF YOU'RE A VISUAL PERSON LIKE ME**

[gh0stsp1d3r]

hii!! love your tangerine x reader stories

I was wondering if you could write something domestic between tangerine and fem (or nb) reader who's a huge swiftie? idk if you like taylor or know anything abt the new albums or the eras tour, if you don't and want to i can help with that, but if you're not up to that just let me know :)

thank you sm 💗

me personally I don’t listen to Taylor.. I jus don’t like pop, but my sister is the biggest ts fan ever… soooo I know a lot about her 😭 once again I don’t have a title for this LMFAOO

Tangerine would have never thought he’d be in a car with a girl he could call his girlfriend, listening to Taylor swift, but here he was.

You sung, while he drove, slightly annoyed but also amused at you.

He chuckled when the song stopped and you stopped singing, looking at him.

“What?” He asked after a while.

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “You’re just very…”

“Very what?” He quirked an eyebrow, still staring at the road ahead, but glancing at you.

“Handsome.” You shrugged and looked back ahead, and you skipped the song playing, and changed it to your favorite Taylor swift song.

You smiled and he groaned, shaking his head but smiling at the same time when the familiar tune started to play.

After the song ended you looked at your surroundings, wondering where you both were going. You asked him.

“Oh, we’re jus’ goin’ to Lemons house. Gotta surprise for ya. Plus I gotta help him unpack.” He said.

“Oh? What?”

“You’ll see.”

———————————————————————

The second you both got to lemons house, you both were out of the car, Tangerine unlocking the door.

“Lem!” He shouted, the large house seemed empty, boxes scattered around it.

Tangerine rolled his eyes, scoffing at the mess.

“Jesus, you been here for days you haven’t finished yet?”

“Whateva. Hey, Y/n.” He nodded to you with a smile.

“Hi.” You smiled back.

He looked to Tangerine again, and leaned in his ear.

“Fuckin’ amazin’ how you got those.” He pat his shoulder. “I literally was on there when they came out, sold out immediately.”

“I know. Was annoying but I got fast fingers. Here’s your card.” He handed him one of Tangerines multiple credit cards, you still watched them in confusion.

They both looked to you then, and Lemon went back into the room and grabbed his laptop.

He gave it to tangerine who nodded at him, and then he handed it to you.

You looked at them both in confusion.

“Jus’ read it.” Tangerine nodded to the computer.

You did so, and you quickly caught on.

“Are you- for real?” Tickets for the tour, the one you’d been talking tangerines ear off about.

“Yup.”

“This isn’t a dream?”

“Nope.”

You smiled widely and ran up to them both, giving them a hug, and giving tangerine a kiss.

“Thank you. So much! Oh my god!” You said with a smile.

“You wanted to go so bad.” Tangerine shrugged.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Okay, enough of the lovey dovey shit.” Lemon rolled his eyes and laughed anyways.

[bxngthedoldrums]

a petekey reading of so much (for) stardust

aka you knew i'd do this aka i didnt take four literature classes in college for nothing aka make sure your tinfoil hat is SECURED to your noggin aka dear lord forgive me for committing sins of petekey in the year of 2023

look. i have to do this or i don't deserve this blog. amen

~ love from the other side

okay. yea, immediately the "you were the sunshine of my lifetime" thing is sort of sus, because we all know pete wentz and anytime sun or summer is involved it's Something. this is solidified in "summer falling through our fingers again" in verse 2, but it's interesting that he uses "ours" in this lyric bc i feel like recently most of pete's summer lyrics have been pretty self-inflicted. it's impossible to not note the whole "inscribed like stone and faded by the rain" in the bridge v. "the tombstones were waiting" line in bang the doldrums. i shant even elaborate u can pick up what i'm laying down!

~ heartbreak feels so good

i think this song is pretty light on petekey imagery but "light from a screen of messages unsent" kinda reminds me of "some nights it gets so bad i almost pick up the phone" in ginasfs but i could be reaching for Sure. let's be real that's all i do

~ hold me like a grudge

honestly i think this is one of the worst petekey offenders on the album. this one had me gawking at my screen as i read the lyrics. "thaw out my freezer burn feelings for twenty summers" ??? be SERIOUS pete... "part-time soulmate, full-time problem" yeah I GET IT I GET IT !!! the whole thing reeks of 2005 summertime fling

~ fake out

"do you laugh about me whenever i leave?" bonkers ass line,,this reminds me of pete's lj writing in those years after 2005,,,"my mood board is just pictures of you, but i'm not sad anymore" YEAH. this is SO pete holy fuck. that classic wentz obsession,,"we did for futures that never came and for pasts that we're never gonna change" this line's got me on the fuckin FLOOR. also classic pete!!! his perchance for nostalgia is just insane and he really feels it huh

~ heaven, iowa

i dont even know how to get into this one. "kiss my cheek, baby, please/would you read my eulogy?" SICK and TWISTED evil!!! evil!!! "i will never ask you for anything except to dream sweet of me" jesus h christ the melancholy is off the charts but holy fuck this song is so,,,tender? i dont know wht to say but i know this was written w summer of love intention. i know this in my heart. "scar-crossed lovers, forever" OKAY I KNOW !!! this song is DEVASTATING verse 2 is fucked UP and the bridge is too!!! "closed my eyes inside your darkness and found your glow"???? i cantr og on

~ so good right now

i can't really discern any particularly petekey lyrics in this one right away but the whole "i cut myself down to be whatever you need me to be" is pretty fucking wild

~ i am my own muse

there's some really sad lyrics in this one ab the whole future-not-going-as-planned thing that comes up so frequently in pete's writing but honestly the whole "let's twist the knife again, twist the knife again like we did last summer" thing made my head explode. every lover's got a lil dagger in their hands!!!

~ flu game

im not gonna sit here and type out ths whole fucking song but oh my GOD bro. this song to me is a really nice callback to pete's older style of lyricism but that comes with the self-deprecation and all the other really sad shit. it's beautiful! it's horrible! i love it!!! its about mikey i cant even pul out a few lyrics just LISTEN

~ baby annihilation

another fucked up one that literally anyone else in fob should have vetoed but OKAY?? "time is luck and i wish ours overlapped more or for longer" MAN SHUT UP. "self sabotage at best, under your spell/but you know what they say, if you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself" ..........dude. if you're like me and you've poured over pete's oooold lj posts from the mid 2000s you already get it, but if you havent,,,go do it and get back to me bc this is TOO MUHC im unwell. "what is there between us if not a little annihilation?" i think i hauve covid

~ the kintsugi kid (ten years)

this song is really fucking sad actually. there's so much fear of being forgotten on this album and it's showcased really beautifully in this song,,,mayhaps not the most obviously petekey song but god damn

~ what a time to be alive

this song's about covid and quarantine n it's pretty easy on the whole suffering from a fling in 2005 thing! good job pete and fob

~ so much (for) stardust

this song is kinda suspicious but there's very few lines that really solidify it as a petekey song,,, altho "i think i've been going through it, and ive been putting your name through it" is a really interesting lyric. and OF COURSE, "in another life, you were my babe/in another life, you were the sunshine of my lifetime" happy xmas war is over

[awigglycultist]

NPMD thoughts

Omg Richie's screams

Poor Richie my beloved

He's dead <3

Oh wait Ruth's headgear is missing in this song

Grace covering her mouth!

STEPH! PETE! <3

WHAT A START

Sycamore! We really need to know more about them

Rip Peter

I love the running in Literal Monster

Out first Max saying Bitch incident!

Get him up! Get this fucker up!!

I love being able to properly see everyone's facial expressions

I hate Solomon so much

Steph is very stupid for putting her hand above her phone as it's about to me smashed but also I'd probably do the same

"this projects on thermodynamics, what the fuck are you talking about?"

I literally love Ruth's, Pete's and Richie's friendship so much

"What was I like when she touched your arm? Did you cum!?"

"Pete silence your phone in the library!" you guys have been screaming this whole time but ok

NANI?

Ugh Pete you are cooler than you think you are!

Love Max finishing the "woah oh oh oh"

"Had to sell your bowtie to feed your fuckin family?"

Omg Pete's breathing and whining while Max is monologuing <3

"now say your fucking prayers bitch!" "-amen!" is still such a good transition

"mom will you pass the buttstuff?" "I just want some head and butter" "bread and buttstuff" still get me

"I love... Jesus <3 :)"

Dirty Girl should not be so good

"WHO ON OCCASION GETS DIRTY!"

Me trying to watch this and imagine watching with my dad to figure out the appropriateness and if gonna have to skip past parts

Ugh Pete <3

Ugh Steph caring about Pete so much despite knowing him for one day <3

Hatchettown notfi!

#pottypants let's get it trending

IT'S BULLY THE BULLY TIME!!!

Love hoe you can see Steph slowly getting into it

Beans cool? Excellent!

Pete's and Richie's finger fun moment!

"who was that?" "my boyfriend!" "sounded like a telemarketer" "okay my ex boyfriend"

Love the screams after "you kinda look like that homeless man from downtown"

"fucking useless Pete!"

"no he thinks the ghost is real he's just really fucking brave"

"I am Jägerman! I am God! Go Nighthawks!"

Skele'on

The little bit of info that Max's dad would call him a cuck and the fact that his bullying likely comes from a lot more trauma with his dad

It's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for him :(

Rip the glow in the dark skeleton costume

"this is Hatchetfield, people go missing everyday!"

Love Kyle and Brenda, what a supportive couple

"this is really your C+" "oh, Steph, you can keep it :)"

"with consent of cour cause we care!"

FUCK YOU CLIVESDALE!!!

Zeke the fighting Nighthawk like Ezekiel from Perky's Buds! Did Ekekiel name himself after Hatchetfield's mascot?

Love the audience cheering after "fuck Clivesdale fuck em straight to hell!"

Richie struggling with costume is so good

"I love being alive!"

God the costume and makeup up close! So good!!!

Smoke club!

Richie's fall is so good!!!

Jon's singing is seriously so good in npmd

And god Will is incredible

Yup Mark & Karen were just so wild at 18

"you don't say, you don't say. I'm be down there in a jiffy" "what'd they did dad?" "they didn't say"

Jeff voice over cameo!

Davis!

Love that Grace calls the cops pigs

Davis and Virginia!

Ziggy! Barry! Charlie!

Bryce's solo <3

Gerlad!

Love the cameos so much (but also rip Jerry, least it's preserved in the album

The bbq monologues bit is so stupid and so good and funny

Me Barbecue!

I love Trevor I hope we see him again

"I'm my dreams, it's my barbecue!"

Just For Once is so silly and so emotional love it it's underrated

"it fucking worked I'm fucking here he's fucking her!"

Lauren is so good!!

"take a bow, bitch"

"Every citizen of Clivesdale is guilty until proven innocent"

Shapiro saying she found the wwjd bracelet in the principal's office really got me the first time

"it's God plan! And now he's leaving me out to dry! Do something you son of a bitch!"

PAUL & EMMA!!!!

The knowledge of what card Jon hands Lauren makes this scene better

"I have been waiting for what feels like 5 fucking years and I still haven't gotten my hot chocolate!"

Emma spitting in the coffee!

Rip "women shoe"

AHHH IF I LOVED YOU!!!

"Leave room for Jesus!"

"she's bisexual and dead where else would she be!"

Rip Angela's fall

"get your hands out of your pocket! Put your hands down! He's going for a gun!"

The scream!

Also the audience screaming during this entire scene from Paul's & Emma's entrance to Emma screaming, so valid and great

"don't comfort her she's fucking weird"

I hate him but we absolutely need to know more about Solomon, how do the Mayor's learn so much

The black book! The nightmare time theme!

And another reason we need to know more about Solomon, why tf did he have the black book and what did he do with it

Max's one liners are so great

"on the ground bitch I'm a cop!"

"are you a women of faith?" "catholic" "I'll take that as a no"

"there's something deeply wrong with this whole town" yeah there sure is

Pete saying he has no idea what he's doing when he checks for Shapiro's pulse is such a great way of keeping it unknown if she's alive or dead

AAAHHHH THE SUMMONING

"t'noy karaxis" particularly scratches my brain

AHHH THE LORDS IN BLACK

I am a bit sad you can't see all the dance moves at the same time and you so you can't really see them changing dances with each other but also the close ups are so cool and very fitting for the scene!

Jon putting his fingers together so it's reminiscent of the doll only having three is such a cool choice

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT JOEY RICHTER WHY DO YOUR EMOTIONAL PERFORMANCES HAVE TO BE SO GOOD

I WAS RIGHT I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR CAITIA REPRISE

They both do a great job during this and I NOT OKAY

Max's fucking beat boxing

"so you do know the bible!"

This is scene is seriously so crazy

Graces entrance afterwards with the cigarette is so great and Max's entrances afterward laying on the bench is so great

The spin!

The lighting!!!

Homecoming time!

Someone remind me to add Joey in best of you to the air guitar thread

And that's it. That's where ends :)

Grace is so crazy and I love her

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter 9

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), swearing, fluffy romantic shit, col and pres getting married

I couldn't wait any longer.

Colson

Three Months Later

“We’re motherfucking number one!” Rook’s voice is a scream, startling all of us. Somehow, he was the first one to read the text and now the rest of us scramble to grab our phones, reading the group text. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Cash says, eyes wide as he looks around at each of us. “Is this real?”

“Get used to it,” Slim says with a happy laugh, clapping Cash on the back. “Only number ones from here on out.”

I’m speechless. Normally, my reaction is to jump up and scream, but in this moment, I’m shell shocked. Deep down, I was scared that it was a fluke, that Tickets hit at just the right time and people were so startled by its newness that they couldn’t help but listen. Releasing Mainstream Sellout was, quite honestly, terrifying.

It’s darker than Tickets. It’s my diary, essentially, my soul bared for my fans and critics to analyze, to judge. As much as I want to make music just because I love it, as little as I want to care about fame, I wanted a number one so desperately that I was almost insane about it. Could we do it again? Were we only good for one pop punk album? Was the Machine Gun Kelly craze here and gone before we knew it?

Realistically, I know I have fans that will ride til the end, no matter what type of music we make. But what if we lose some? What if they’re sick of the pop punk vibe and want rap back and can’t wait until we release another rap album? I’ve been torn about this album for a long time. We delayed the release date twice before Slim finally told me to fuck off and gave permission to release it.

And here we are with our second rock album going number one.

“Colson.” I shake my head a little, coming out of my daze to realize that Presley has been saying my name repeatedly. I look at her sheepishly and rub the back of my neck. My fiancee’s beautiful green eyes sparkle with amusement and she chuckles. “Where’d you go, baby?” she asks, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I reach over and pull her into my arms, squeezing her tight. She climbs into my lap, embracing me, and I close my eyes. “Sorry,” I murmur into her hair. “Just doesn’t feel real. I didn’t think it was going to happen,” I confess.

I can feel her smile against my neck. She presses a kiss there. “I did,” she says simply, then gets off my lap. I look at her for a moment and I realize that she really means it. She never doubted for a second that we’d go number one. 

When Megan and I were together, she tried so hard to convince me that pop punk wasn’t the way to go. “You can’t just switch genres,” she said, that grimace that was so often on her face apparent. 

I frowned. “We’re not switching genres,” I argued defensively. “We’ve always done rock. We’ve always had guitar and singing on our albums.” It occurred to me all of a sudden that maybe Megan had lied to me. If she’d listened to our old stuff like she claimed she did, then she would know this. She would never say something so insulting.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m bored.” I was working; we were in the studio, but when she stood up and took off her dress before crawling into my lap, I knew work was going to be delayed. I sighed and tried to pretend that she hadn’t hurt me. 

Now my girl sits beside me beaming with pride as I hug and high five my band, celebrating our second number one rock album. Megan was wrong in so many ways. The longer I’m with Presley, the more and more the pain of Megan fades. Pres is healing me without even meaning to.

Later that night when Presley and I are celebrating in our bed, her back to my chest with my hand wrapped in her silky black hair, I feel such a burst of love for her that it’s almost overwhelming. I keep one arm wrapped around her waist as I kiss her neck, groaning. “Presley, baby, I love you so much.”

“Col,” Pres whines as I fuck into her, her ass shaking against my hips.

“Pres,” I pant. “I don’t want to wait. Let’s get married.”

“Right now?” Presley cries, curling her hand around my wrist, but I don’t stop fucking her.

“Not right now,” I say with a breathless laugh. “Let’s fucking go to Vegas and just do it.”

“Colson,” Presley says, but it melts into a moan. “Are you serious? I don’t want to go to Vegas,” she says, bewildered. “T-too many people.”

I laugh into her neck, biting down gently. “Then let’s go to the courthouse,” I pant. “Cash and Liv can be our witnesses.”

“Please don’t talk about my brother when I can feel you behind my fucking belly button,” Presley groans, and I start to laugh so hard that we lose balance. Presley falls forward onto her stomach and I follow, rutting against her. We’re both too close to stop this and have a real conversation, so I speed things up, slipping a hand beneath her hips.

Presley whimpers and fists the sheets as I rub circles in her clit, and I hold off until I feel her start to clench around me. We come at the same time, our sounds mingling in the warm air around us. When we’re done, I roll off of Pres and grab some tissues, breathing hard.

Once she’s cleaned up, I pull her onto my chest, tip her chin up, and kiss her. I kiss her with everything in me. With all the love and pride and joy I feel. Presley melts on top of me and makes a soft, helpless sound, and I know I have her. She doesn’t want to wait either. I want her to be my wife. 

It’s crazy to think we met in September, got together in October, and now, in April, I’m ready to marry her. I guess it’s true what they say: when you know, you know.

“Cols?” Presley murmurs, breaking me from my thoughts. I look down at her and bite my lip. She looks extra beautiful like this, hair messy and eyes glassy with pleasure. I can’t help but kiss her swollen lips once more. “I don’t want a big wedding,” she says.

“No?” I ask, hope rising in my chest.

Presley shakes her head. “No. I don’t even want one,” she admits. “Did you mean it? Do you really want to go to the courthouse? Because if that’s what you want…” I can tell just by the way she talks about it that she’s relieved by the thought of not having a huge wedding. She likes simple things, and a courthouse wedding just might be perfect for my girl.

“Pres, I’d marry you however and wherever and whenever you want,” I tell her, tucking her hair behind her ear. “All I care about is that I’m marrying you.” 

Presley bites her lip. “You won’t be disappointed if we get married at the courthouse?”

I shake my head, grinning. “No, baby. I’ll be thrilled.”

“We’ll have to put off our honeymoon,” she says. “Too much to do with the new album.”

I shrug. “We’ll figure it out,” I tell her, stroking her cheek. 

“Col?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” Her voice is small. My brow furrows and I tilt my head a little so I can see her better. The blinds are open and the light from the moon casts a silvery shadow over the bed, illuminating Presley’s face. The shadows of her eyelashes are outlined on her cheeks and she looks almost ethereal, like she couldn’t possibly be real.

“For what?” I ask, a little breathless with my love for her.

“For knowing me.” She bites her lip and my heart skips a beat. I’m quiet, giving her time to sort out her thoughts. “For not wanting to change who I am but for embracing it. I was so scared when I met you. Of everything.” 

I know this is true. It breaks my heart to know she lived in fear for so long. I lift her hand to my lips and press gentle kisses to her fingertips.

“You showed me I don’t have to be afraid,” she says. “You showed me that I deserve to be loved for exactly who I am.”

“Pres,” I say, voice thick with emotion. “Fuck, baby. You showed me the same damn thing. You know that, right?”

Presley laces our fingers together and nods. “Col, I want to be with you forever,” she says. “I don’t want to live in a world where I’m not yours.”

“Jesus,” I say, shaking my head in awe that someone like Presley could ever love someone like me. I cover her mouth with my own and push a hand into her hair, keeping her face close to mine. Our hearts pound fiercely against one another as her hand slides to my bicep and squeezes. “Marry me,” I say as I break the kiss, “tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Presley laughs right against my mouth, and I love the sound and the taste of it. “Fuck, Colson. I’m going to be your wife tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah, Presley Baker,” I say, and the sound of her name paired with mine makes my stomach flip in the best way. And then, we stop talking entirely, practicing how we’ll consummate our marriage tomorrow. 

Presley said she would marry me today on three conditions.

One - Cash and Olivia will be our witnesses.

Two - We still dress up in our wedding clothes (yes, Presley already has her dress).

Three - We still get to say personal vows. 

I agreed to all three, so here we are, preparing for our wedding in two different places. I slept at Cash and Olivia’s last night so Presley and I wouldn’t see each other on our wedding day until the ceremony. I’m still here, Cash securing a flower to my suit while Olivia and Presley get ready at our house. 

“You sure you want to marry my sister?” Cash jokes as he takes a step back. He’s grinning, dimples carved into his cheeks. “Looks good, man.”

I glance at myself in the mirror. No one can blame me or act surprised by my pale pink suit. I love how it looks, and my hair looks damn good, too. I can only imagine how stunning Presley is going to look. We’re going to have a small “reception” after the ceremony with some of our closest friends. Sam will take pictures, and then we’ll go home to our house as husband and wife. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” I admit to Cash as I slip into my shoes. My hands are sweaty as I tuck my vows into the inner pocket of my coat. “You’ve got the rings?”

Cash pats the pocket of his dress pants and nods. “Safe and sound. You ready?”

I take one more look in the mirror. In less than an hour, I will have a wife. “Ready,” I croak.

When we arrive at the courthouse, the girls are already there. Presley is hiding away somewhere while Olivia, Cash, and I talk to the Justice of the Peace. I’m half listening as she explains how the ceremony will go. It’s very simple: the Justice says a few words, we share our vows and exchange rings, she pronounces us married, we sign the marriage license, and boom. 

“Are we ready to get started?” the Justice asks. 

I swallow hard. “Ready,” I say. 

The Justice of the Peace is a woman in her fifties with locs and eyes that crinkle in the corners when she smiles. “Congratulations,” she says, patting my shoulder. 

Olivia and I follow her into the courtroom. Cash is going to be walking Presley down the “aisle”, so he goes to find her. I wipe sweaty hands on my pants as Olivia and I approach the front of the room where the Justice stands. 

“Ready, Col?” Olivia asks, reaching up to fix my hair. “You look great. I’m so happy for you.” Hey eyes brim with tears and I pull her in for a hug.

“Thank you,” I say tightly, trying not to cry. I release her when someone clears their throat, and then, all of my attention is on the woman who is going to be my wife in just a few minutes.

I knew from the first time I saw her that Presley was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. As she stands in the doorway, her arm wrapped around her brother’s, I realize she’s even more beautiful than I ever thought possible.

Her dress is her in every sense of the word. It’s white, per tradition, but it’s sexy as hell while still being classy. Lace drapes over her tall frame as the dress hugs her curves, emphasizing her hips and breasts. Her long hair cascades down her back, pearls decorating the top of her head. Her hair is split in a tight middle part with the top smoothed back behind her ears as the rest hangs loose and flowy. Her makeup is flawless, making her eyes pop, and I can tell she’s wearing heels as she’s closer to Cash’s height than usual.

I have to remind myself to breathe as she smiles at me, bouncing on her toes with excitement. I let out a breathless laugh and press a hand flat to my chest, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat. Cash is beaming as they start to walk toward me. Every second that passes that she isn’t in my arms makes it harder and harder to breathe. This woman is going to be my wife.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Cash and Presley stop in front of me. Cash wraps her in a fierce hug, whispering words to her that I can’t make out. Then, he throws his arms around me in a huge bear hug. “You’re about to be my brother,” he says thickly, and tears sting in my eyes as I hug him so hard it almost hurts. He pulls away, steps aside, and then, all I see is Presley.

She steps forward, giving me her hands, and I let out a breath. Along with it come a few tears, but I don’t even care. I’ve never felt love like this, never felt emotion like this. “Hi baby,” she whispers, and I can tell she’s emotional, too. Her eyes glitter with unshed tears.

“Hi,” I say back, voice rough with emotion. “My god, you’re stunning.”

“You’re gorgeous,” she breathes, and then she’s in my arms. I hold her close, breathing in her intoxicating scent, and close my eyes. After a few moments, we pull back and step in front of the Justice, who’s smiling.

“Wow,” she remarks. “I’ve done this many times and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen two people more in love than the pair of you.”

Presley and I look at each other and beam.

“We are gathered here today to join the two of you in marriage,” the Justice says. “You have chosen to read your own vows. Who will start?”

“Me,” Presley says quickly, and I let go of her hands so Olivia can hand her vows over. Presley clears her throat and I notice her hands are trembling as she unfolds the paper. She meets my eyes and then looks down at her paper. She takes a deep breath and begins.

“Colson Baker. Less than a year ago, you were my celebrity crush. You still are, if I’m being honest. In the time I’ve known you, you have become my everything. My confidant, my inspiration, my safe place. The love of my life and my best friend.

“It’s hard to think that I lived without you for as long as I did. My eyes and my heart were closed to so many things before you. I didn’t know love like this actually existed outside of romance novels, but Col, you’re my real life love story.

“Colson, I promise to always love you and to always like you. I promise to always laugh at your jokes, even the cheesy ones. I promise to be your biggest fan and supporter. I promise to always be backstage or front row at your shows, screaming the loudest for you. I promise to always be your muse and your sounding board for ideas. 

“I promise to build a family with you when we’re ready. I promise to make you so happy that the pain you’ve felt in the past is a distant memory. Colson, I promise that I will always, always be yours, baby. I love you more than life.”

When she finishes, we’re both crying. It’s messy and almost pathetic, and we both laugh wetly when our respective witnesses hand us each a tissue. Once we’re a little more put together, the Justice asks Cash for my ring. He steps forward and hands it to Presley. 

The ring is black with roses on it, engraved on the inside. Presley slips the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly and I nearly lose my breath looking down at my wedding ring.

“Colson, you may proceed with your vows,” the Justice says.

I nod and swallow hard, pulling my vows from my suit. I unfold the paper and clear my throat, looking at Pres for a long moment before looking at the paper. “Presley Maeve Carver,” I begin. “You came into my life when I needed you most and you never left.

“I had pretty much sworn myself to a life of solitude when we met. I remember when your brother told me to stay away from you. I was so mad, but now that I look back, I can’t blame him. I wasn’t on the right path. But Presley, you helped me find the path I so desperately needed.

“Pres, you’ve shown me what unconditional love is. You’ve shown me that every part of me is worth loving, even the dark parts that I’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. You make me feel so safe and so wholly myself. 

“I promise to love you no matter what happens. I promise to continue to write songs about you. I promise to always stare at you whether you’re dressed like this or wearing no makeup. I promise to hold your hand and kiss you as much as you want. I promise I will never let you down.

“I promise to be the best father to our children and the best husband to you. You make it easy, my love. I can’t wait to spend an eternity with you. I love you, Presley.”

More tears. After another couple of tissues, I slide Presley’s wedding band onto her finger, joining her engagement ring, and we take hands again. I’m shaking but I’m so beyond happy.

“Colson Baker,” the Justice of the Peace says, smiling up at me. “Do you take Presley Maeve Carver to be your wife?”

I look down into Presley’s emerald eyes. “I do,” I say firmly. 

“Presley Maeve Carver,” the Justice continues. “Do you take Colson Baker to be your husband?”

Pres squeezes my hands and smiles widely. “I do.”

“By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Justice says. “Colson, you may kiss your bride.”

And fuck, do I.

Presley is in my arms in seconds, her body tipped back as I kiss her, tender and passionate and so full of love. She clings to me as we kiss, our tiny crowd cheering, and god, I don’t ever want to come up for air. I never want to let this woman go.

But I never have to.

Taglist:@triplexdoublex@jaxbreaker@mgklove99xx@jinx-on-mars-19xx@iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen @feroniakutenpuu@hxllywoodwhxree

[atticcreationz]

1,2,7 and 10 !

Thanks for the ask! <3 We are quickly going to learn that I have trouble picking favourites ahahah

1) Favourite song is either High School is Killing Me or Cool As I Think I Am! I could gush for a long time about how gorgeous they both are. NPMD actually takes the cake for my favourite music in the Hatchetfield trilogy - least skips, most bops! (Hatchetfield, compared to other Starkid musicals, doesn't always have music I like to listen to outside of watching the musical itself)

2) Jesus don't make me choose between my children...! Starkid are really so damn good at having a tight group of main characters. Hmmmmm the many years of starkid nostalgia means I always love a Joey protagonist so damn much, but you know what, I thought Richie was so great, I think he wins by a hairs breadth. He opened the musical beautifully, I was a little weeb at his age and hung out with a lot of kids like him so his dialogue was fuckin hilarious and hit me where I live, I had a lot of FeelingsTM, and he ended act 1 beautifully too.

7) Dirty Girl! Loved it in the musical (Angela's performance is just amazing, as was Will's) but used to skip it on the album coz it just wasn't really my genre of music. I think it's coz the opening verse doesn't really hit for me. But everything from that Grace verse onwards got me in the end.

10) I'm such a basic bitch and l tend to love the canon ships (Lautski are so damn cute, and Holy Ghost are insane for each other /pos), so I'm reading this question as what NON canon ships do I like! I love Trevor and Rudolph, but also I wanna see Ruth (my sweet baby bisexual) have a happy flirty moment. Is anyone shipping Ruth with Brooke?? I don't think they'd be together long, but I think they'd have some adventures (or y'know, Brooke setting fire to shit and Ruth too flustered to stop her) before they went their separate ways. Or maybe Ruth and Caitlyn would be cute, a short theatre kid romance while they work on a show together!

Link to the NPMD ask game post for anyone who wants to see the list of Qs or who wants to join the fun! https://www.tumblr.com/atticcreationz/736158319964733440

[call-me-tk]

Beetlejuice the Musical - an Analysis/My Favorite Parts

Prologue: Invisible

“Grown-ups wanna fix things. When they can't it only fills them with shame, so they just look away." 

The Whole “Being Dead" Thing

TRUMPETS

“Rodgers, Hart, and Hammerstein”

"How you doin'? Oh, not good! *scats*"

“If you die while listening to this album, it’s still gonna keep playing”

“Blah blah Bible Jesus Magic”

DIES IRAE

Ready Set, Not Yet

THE FAST BITS

When Adam waits a beat after his fast bit before saying “ready set” because he’s not as confident as Barbara ahhhhhhhh

When Barbara sings the word "terror" like "terra" 

“Hiding away so you don’t have to face being a bad mom” whoever wrote these lyrics is so mean

“Oh… NO”

The Whole "Being Dead" Thing: Reprise

The pause after “Hi!”

“Jesus I can’t spell”

“Eh, worth a try”

“I’m the bio-exorcist, giving houses enemas”

Dead Mom

“Daddy’s moving forward, daddy didn’t lose a mom”

“A plague of mice, a lightning strike, or drop a nuclear bomb”

Fright of their Lives

“Drop your panties”

“No. What fills you with RAGE”

“Being mean to a pet” MOOD BARBARA

BJ’s soliloquy, he’s so over it, so DRAMATIC

“WHY GOD SLASH SATAN”

“Uch, these dopes are both hopeless”

Ready, Set (Reprise)

You can just SEE the shoulder bump with “I’m sure we can haunt our own halls”

“I gotta get right outside my comfort zone” 😬

No Reason

“What’s happening, GURL”

“Buy more crystals”

The windchime during “put a little alright in the world”

“Where good people die” “NO”

“Cuz you’re bored” FLUTE SOLO

“Meaninglessness and alone” “NONONONONOOOOOOoooooo~” the talent it takes to pull off that vocal riff is ridiculous

“Is this still about me?”

The harmonies in the last note

Invisible (Reprise)/On the Roof

“Somebody’s on the roof” always has me cackling

“I, Lydia Deetz” *BIG SIGH* “will be gone”

“I’M GONNA HAVE A NEW BEST FRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEND”

Say My Name

The musical style?!?!?!?

This is my favorite song in the entire show. And it was not an easy choice.

“What?” “Nothing”

Nice Moana reference

“Beetlejuice?” she says, like “what a dumb fuckin name”

LYDIA’S WHOLE SECTION LET’S GOOOOOO

Including the music change

BJ being like WHAT and SO frustrated every time she psychs him out

In the production I saw Lydia said “I just metcha” and I like that better

“I may be suicidal but Beetlejuice it’s not as if I’ve lost my mind” OOF

“That was possession” lol he’s so proud of himself

Love love love the rhyme: “Pretty much, any ghost’ll do, sure” “Then Beetlejuice, what do I need you for?” and the subsequent WOAH WOAH WOAH

The instrumental hit right after she sings “Yeah I got game” is my favorite 

This whole song just slaps idk what else to tell you

Day-O

“I’d have to… check my pay stubs”

“Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy” as he pops up out of the table he had to hide in the whole scene

Dad finally saying Lydia’s name as he’s swept away

“It’s our house now, kid”

Girl Scout

“Ooh~!”

The piano during “my heart is defective” A+ score writing

“Still”

*dramatic music* JAMBOREES

“Whee!”

*nervous laughter after meeting Lydia*

“By selling cookies *BIG BREATH* four dollars a box”

Also. FOUR DOLLARS A BOX?!??!?!?! Jealous.

“Pedophiles” 😇

That Beautiful Sound

“He is so weird”

Love the smooth jazzy style

“Time for a few OH MY GOD”

“How many… people… live here?”

Lydia’s laugh after “nice moves Lydia” is so pure

“Pfah, holy moly, lotta people come to this house”

“Yes, I hear that sooooooooooound” he’s so happy

“No more condescending adults hanging around”

“Daddy’s leaving me the hell alone”

Barbara 2.0

“It’s the stuff of our lives, and all of it’s shit.”

“Okay, that wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be.”

“Buhreak it”

“The new Adam is wiserrrrrrr”

Harmonieeeeees

What I Know Now

“I went to parties a lot…” *sniff* “You know?”

“Niche was right, you know? To live is to suffer, bro”

“Life is short but death is super long”

I really like this song because if you ruminate on it long enough it’s a good song to talk you into living life to its fullest even if things suck.

Home

I love that this is a reprise but also the whole theme of Lydia’s character - that her mom is home. But then she finds out that she can have a home with a (very dysfunctional) family and not forget her mom either.

Her little laugh when she says Delia’s name

Creepy Old Guy

“I’m a creepy old guy!!” 

“Girls may seem disgusted, but we’re actually just shy”

Shoobedowop

In the show I saw, Lydia goes: “Even on the inside, he- he’s disgusting” which I liked better than the recording

“A dance break on an album? Amazing.”

“L’chaim” is pronounced correctly, thank you Alex

“God be glorified” in a fucked up key

The whole company going “I can’t believe some cultures think this kind of thing’s alright” in unison

Jump in the Line/Dead Mom - Reprise

A perfect song to end a perfect show.

“I adore huh”

“Mama if you’re listening, doesn’t this just blow your mind?”

Shake shake shake senora in the background UGH MY HEART

DAYLIGHT COME AND ME WAN GO HOME

She’s home (I’m not crying you’re crying)

Overall thoughts:

Alex doing the Beetlejuice voice throughout THE WHOLE SHOW

The rhyming throughout the whole musical is just. A+

Lydia’s songsssssss

Honestly all the vocal parts are real hard

And so is the book for the pit

There’s like 8 different genres of music throughout the show and it just WORKS

I had no idea this show existed until the start of this year and now it’s in my top 3 favorite musicals. 10/10 amazing incredible perfect

[banannabethchase]

Adam's connecting flight gets delayed, and who else should be on the flight but Jon Moxley. They decide to share a hotel room, but, oh no, what could possibly go wrong? Or right?

~

Being in an airport really does inspire a person, doesn't it? Also this has been lingering in the back of my noggin for months.

~

Adam drops his head when the announcement comes on again.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he mutters. He should have taken the Bucks up on their invite to stay in one of their guest rooms – there’s no way he’s getting home any time soon at this point.

Stuck at the airport want to die, Adam texts Matt

It’s almost immediate that he gets back, told u so

Sometimes I actually hate you

<3 <3 <3 <3

He resists the urge to text Nick, who will probably be the exact same as Matt, just a little less overtly bitchy. He stretches out in the airport chair as he listens to the flight attendant repeat the announcement for the third time.

”Again, flight 1883 out of San Diego to Cincinnati is cancelled due to weather events across the Great Plains,” she says, sounding too chipper for the announcement. “We will be happy to help any stranded passengers make alternate plans.”

Adam curses the need for layovers as he gets up to the counter, Orville Peck’s newest album keeping him from losing it as he waits behind soccer moms and business professionals and, to his amusement, one of the crew guys from the night before. He doesn’t seem to recognize Adam, and Adam’s not going to get in the way of whatever he’s got going on in his headphones.

When he finally gets up to the counter, he exhales with relief. “Hey, there, ma’am, I was hoping you could help me out.”

“Certainly, sir,” she says. “Tell me what your situation is.”

Adam begins talking, and practically jumps when he hears an obnoxiously familiar voice go, “Oh, fuck me.”

Adam squeezes his eyes shut and exhales. He should have known this was coming. “Lord save me now.”

“I know,” says the counter attendant, sympathetic smile not helping in the slightest. “Flight delays are frustrating.”

“Oh, no it’s not that. It’s just – ” He stops himself from going into a detailed rant about just how perfect it is that he’s going to be stuck in the same airport as Jon Moxley for the foreseeable future. “Never mind. Regarding the flights, I have a connection that there’s no way I’m making.”

“Yeah, unfortunately that’s going to be the case,” she says, frowning. “How about this. We can book you a hotel room,” she does some clicking, “and get you a new fight for…well, it looks like, in order not to give you a 12 hour layover, we can get you out of here on a flight directly to Virginia tomorrow at 4pm.” She smiles at him. “Does that sound like it could work?”

Adam nods. “That sounds like a great alternative. I appreciate your help.”

She prints him out a boarding pass and a hotel receipt, only to turn to run smack into Mox.

“Jesus, you’re charming as fuck even in a stressful situation,” Mox says, grinning at him. “Ever turn it off?”

“You’ve seen what I do when I turn it off,” Adam says, refusing to meet his eyes. It’s unfortunate, then, that his gaze lingers on Mox’s lips. On the way his tee shirt gaps a little at the collar. “You get hung by a chain in front of thousands on a pay per view.”

Mox’s grin goes a little predatory. “Yeah. Anyway, hope your day sucks.”

“What? I – fine. You too. Prick.”

Mox winks at him and gets into line just in time for Adam to get a phone call he’s not going to be able to finish without plugging in his phone. So he, with CD on the other end of the line checking in on him, is privy to the shitshow in front of him.

“There’s no more hotel rooms?!” says the lady who had been standing a few people behind him. He remembers she was the one loudly listening to videos on her phone in between complaining. “Then find me a different one!”

“Ma’am, there are no more hotel rooms we are able to –”

“Well that’s your fault, isn’t it?!” she shrieks. She turns to the line of people behind her. “Aren’t you all just as angry? We want to get home! We paid good money for these tickets!” She turns back to the attendant. “Are you the most competent person I can deal with? Do they only hire idiots?”

“Chris, I gotta go,” Adam mutters into the phone. “I’m good, though, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Alright, Hanger.” Chris sounds skeptical, which is fair, but he hangs up anyway.

Adam’s in the process of standing up to go give the lady a piece of his mind when Mox steps out of line to swagger up to the complainer. “Yo, lady, I’m not sure what your problem is, but you don’t see any of us acting like toddlers who didn’t get a cookie.” He does that stance, arms behind his back, like he’s daring someone to hit him. “Chill out.”

“I,” she says, “am a very important oil executive, sir, and I have places to be. People require my presence to complete their jobs.” She looks Mox up and down, taking in his ratty jacket, ripped jeans, and faded tee shirt. Her eyes linger on the scars on his forehead. “I can see you don’t have much experience in that arena.”

Mox scoffs. “Lady, I’m a wrestler. Like a pro one? Like on TV? Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty sure I’m just as whatever as you are and I’m not being a bitch.”

Adam snickers into his hand. It’s not quiet enough – Mox glances over his shoulder and grins at Adam. “See? That guys a wrestler, too. And he was perfectly civil. So you can grow the fuck up and act like a human or you can keep this up and I’ll put you in a headlock.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she says. Adam knows that face. She’s trying to call Mox’s bluff. Adam giggles again.

“Hey, Cowboy,” Mox says, “what did I do to you in that match?”

“Before I choked you out with a chain?” Adam asks. “You tried to break my hand between two bricks.”

“Right,” Mox says. He turns back to the lady, whose face has turned a weird shade of green. “So, like, if you’re gonna go after this nice person trying to help you, I kinda hope you go full on nutjob and jump the counter. I’d love give you a suplex onto the floor.”

Adam’s full on laughing as the lady sputters some nonsense. She snatches the boarding pass that the flight attendant had been holding out for her and stomps off. “I hope you get a concussion,” she snarls at Mox and Adam as she leaves.

“Been there, done that, lady,” Mox calls after her.

Adam lets the laughter fade. “You got a way of handling assholes, that’s for sure.”

“Only way I’ve survived being coworkers with you,” Mox says. “I’m fucked, though. Stuck sleeping on airplane chairs like it’s 2003 again.”

Adam practically sees his options scatter across his vision. Take the hotel room and enjoy a night to himself. Offer the room to Mox and be stuck here. Give the hotel room to someone else so they’re both miserable together.

Or.

“I mean, you can come with me,” Adam says. “I’m sure we can avoid killing each other for a night so we can both get decent sleep.”

Mox stares at him for a second. “What?”

“You don’t have to,” Adam says, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. “Just saying you could be, like, not a weird martyr and take the comfortable option.” He’s about to walk away, hand on his rolling carryon, when Mox sighs.

“I like that you think spending time with you is better than being stuck in an airport,” Mox says, but he grabs his carryon and starts walking. Adam falls into pace next to him.

“Dick,” Adam says, grinning. “You look like you’re coming with me, though, so I’d say I’m better than an airport.”

“I’m too fuckin’ old to try and sleep on airplane carpet,” Mox says, rolling his shoulders. “Plus, I got that GCW match on Sunday and I really don’t want to be fucked up for it.”

“Oh, right,” Adam says, sliding out of the way for a family of what appears to be four thousand blocking the path, “because a GCW match requires tip top shape to get bludgeoned to death with a trash can.”

Mox stares at him. “We just bludgeoned you and your boys with worse than trash cans, so I have no idea where this high and mighty bullshit is coming from.”

Adam opens his mouth to argue before realizing, annoyed, that Mox is right. “Well shit.”

Navigating the airport to get to the hotel is easier than Adam had thought, but with a chattering Mox behind him making commentary on everything it’s less smooth.

“Do you ever shut up?” Adam asks as they settle in line at the hotel. “Seriously, I don’t think I’ve said anything in ten minutes, but you’ve spoken a novel’s worth.”

Mox shrugs. “I’m fidgety. I talk when I’m fidgety. That a problem for you?”

“If you talk in your fuckin’ sleep, it is,” Adam says, but he’s sure to smile to make it sound like less of a death threat. The people in front of them in line keep looking back at them, concerned. Adam doesn’t want the cops called on him. “Now shut up for, like, two minutes while I get checked in.”

“You better ask for two beds,” Mox says. “I ain’t cuddling with you, Cowboy.”

“I’m sure there’s two queens,” Adam replies.

Mox giggles.

“What’s so funny about that?”

“Just, if there’s two queens, it’s the Bucks, right?”

Adam kicks him in the shins.

~

“And there’s a king bed in this room,” says the attendant when he gets his key cards.

Adam blinks. “I’m – just a king bed?”

“Yes, sir,” she says. “It’s the only room left.”

“Alright,” Adam says. He’ll sleep in the bathtub if he comes to it. Anything to get this shit show over with. “Yeah, it’ll work. I appreciate the help.”

Mox steps in pace with him, like a puppy learning how to heel, as Adam makes his way to the elevator. “So, we gonna fight on who gets the bed?”

“I’ll sleep in the tub if it means you shut up,” Adam deadpans, pressing the button for the elevator.

Mox slides into the elevator, and grabs Adam’s carryon to move it with him. Adam’s…confused, but appreciative. “I was kidding about the cuddling bit,” Mox says. “I mean, you’re letting me stay in your hotel room. I’ll sleep in the tub or on the floor.”

“That can’t be much better than an airport carpet,” Adam says. He checks the key card – fourth floor, room 451. Before he can press the button, Mox has reaches out and practically punched the button for number 4.

Mox is quiet for a few minutes, long enough to make Adam wonder what he’s planning. “Or,” Mox says as the elevators doors open. He grabs Adam’s carryon again and hauls both suitcases down the hallway. Adam decides not to mention his has wheels – he kind of wants to see how long it’ll take Mox to notice. “I mean, we can share. The bed, I mean. If you’re okay with that.”

Adam considers it as they walk down the hallway. “You’re not gonna try and cuddle me, are you?”

“I – that was a joke, you fuckwit,” Mox says. “And you could thank me for carrying your bag all the way here.”

“First off, it rolls, so you didn’t have to carry it,” Adam says, sliding the key card into the lock on the door. “Second, I didn’t ask you to carry my bag.”

“I had to,” Mox says. Adam barely gets the chance to push open the door before Mox is hauling all their bags and throwing them into the room with zero ceremony or care. “It was the nice thing to do.”

Adam shuts the door behind the two of them. “You saying that right after chucking the bags into a wall feels weird.”

Mox shrugs and throws himself onto the bed, arms behind his head. “What, you want me to, like, apologize or something? Did you have something breakable in there?”

Adam shakes his head as he carefully unzips his boots and sets them neatly next to the desk. “Just wondering what the fuck goes on in that weird head of yours.”

“You don’t get to call me weird,” Mox says, and he’s grinning when Adam glances over at him. “You’re just as much of a freak as me, Cowboy.”

Adam throws the pillow from the chair at Mox and sits down. “Am not.”

“Oh, so the whole hanging me using a chain is normal behavior to you?” Mox shifts, grinning at Adam. “Wrapping barbed wire around yourself like a fuckin’ corset is vanilla in your world? I’d hate to see what you’d consider freaky, then.”

Adam adjusts in the seat, desperate to lay down but not ready to cross that bridge with Mox. “I’m sure you would Mox.”

They’re quiet for a moment, as Adam tries to figure out if getting up will be seen as an offensive maneuver. Then Mox groans and stretches, his arms above his head on the bed. He grips the bars of the headboard, which Adam tries not to think too much about. “Well, Cowboy,” he groans, “if we’re gonna act like an old married couple and share the same bed, least I can do is wash the airport offa me. I’m gonna go shower.”

Adam nods, because there’s not much else he can really do. “I, uh. Appreciate it?”

“You should,” Mox says, swaggering over to the shower. He pulls his shirt off and throws it on top of his luggage. Adam recognizes a fresh scar on Mox’s back as one he placed there with barbed wire. He ignores the voice in his head that growls mine at the sight. “I’m a fuckin’ saint.”

“I absolutely wouldn’t go that far,” Adam laughs, but he follows Mox with his eyes as he makes his way to the bathroom, allowing himself to look at the way Mox’s ass fills out the jeans.

~

Adam’s halfway through his compulsive daily email clear out when a noise jolts him out of his focus.

He looks around the room for the source, only to see an outdated phone buzzing on top of Mox’s bag.

“Mox,” Adam yells, “Mox, your phone’s ringing!”

Adam stands and walks over to the phone to pick it up. He wouldn’t normally impose, but he glances at the screen and it’s Tony’s number. “Dude,” Adam says again. “You’ve been in there for twenty minutes.”

The phone stops ringing and Adam relaxes. And then it starts up again.

“Asshole,” Adam grumbles, almost stomping down the short hallway to the bathroom. “Hey dickhead!” he yells, and he’s surprised when the door swings open under his grip.

He should have remembered he’s never been in this bathroom before.

He should have remembered this is Jon Moxley.

He should have remembered that boner he popped during Anarchy in the Arena.

The shower is in perfect view of the door, so he can’t even act like he can’t see what’s in front of him. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Here to join?” Mox asks. His hand is curled around his cock, grinning over at Adam through the water droplets on the glass shower door.

“No,” Adam says, averting his eyes, a little too late, “uh. Here.” He shoves the phone toward Mox. “It’s Tony.”

“Tell him we’re having a sleepover and he can wait,” Mox says. Adam can sense that Mox is moving, and he’s not strong enough to imagine the kind of movement. “I’m busy.”

“It’s the second time he’s called in, like, four minutes,” Adam says. He moves to stare at the wall, but all that happens is he locks eyes with Mox through the mirror. He fights the urge to run or whimper or something else he doesn’t allow himself to think about too hard. “Just fuckin’ answer it.”

Mox groans and turns off the shower. “Asshole.”

“Dickhead,” Adam replies, and he hustles out of there like his life depends on it.

~

Mox comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later followed by steam. Adam is unable to ignore the fact that he’s not wearing anything but a towel around his waist.

Adam had waffled between what to do, and ended up sitting on the bed stiffly, still fully dressed, with a book in his hand. He’s made it through two pages and didn’t understand any of it.

“Tony was just freaking out about if I was gonna get home or not,” Mox says. Adam intentionally doesn’t look at the way the water leaves trails down his chest, his back, his arms. He doesn’t look at how low the towel is on Mox’s hips, on the perfect lines of muscle making a V at the bottom of his torso. “Since he booked the flights he got the notification of the cancellation and I,” he rolls his eyes, “am the only one who didn’t check in with CD, so he was freaking out.”

Adam swallows, forcing himself to stare at the wall behind Mox. “You chill him out?”

Mox nods, stretching, and Adam’s eyes snap right back to that chest of Mox’s. “Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Mox says. “Freaks out about everything, Tony. Told him we’re bunking together.”

That’s enough for Adam to set his book down. “How’d he react to that?”

Mox laughs, twisting. Adam finds himself wondering how tightly the towel is tied, if Mox is still hard under there. “Tony freaked out, like always. Wanted to know if we planned on killing each other.”

“It’s not off the table,” Adam replies, adjusting his glasses and going back to the book.

Adam feels the bed shift as Mox sits at the foot of the bed. “Yeah? Planning on strangling me in your sleep?”

Adam looks up to see Mox grinning at him. “Already strangled you once,” Adam says, flipping the page like he’s been able to take in a single word since Mox walked out of the bathroom. “Figured I’d try something new.”

Mox huffs. “Yeah? You been thinkin’ about killing me?”

“No,” Adam says. He sets down the book. “But, you know. Always have ideas in my back pocket.”

Mox studies his face for a moment. “Ideas?”

Adam nods. He’s not sure where this is going. “Yeah. Ideas.”

The silence feels heavy for a second, and Adam’s pretty sure he’s seconds away from doing something stupid when Mox says, “I like the glasses.”

Adam blinks. “Oh,” he says, taken off guard by the compliment. “Uh. Thanks?”

“You don’t have to act all weird about it,” Mox says. “They’re – they look good. Real studious and shit.”

Adam laughs. “High praise from a man whose wardrobe is his own merch.”

“It’s my merch because I like it,” Mox says. He leans back on the bed. His head is level with Adam’s knees. “Course I’ll wear it.”

“You don’t see me in Hangman shirts all the time,” Adam says.

“No, but you were those, uh, those button downs. Very yeehaw. Cowboy shit, right? You dress the part.” He reaches out and pats Adam’s leg. “Even your jeans are all cowboy.”

Adam tries not to flinch or burn at the touch. “I – thank you?”

Mox rolls over. “Are you okay? You’re all tense?”

Adam opens his mouth. Then closes it. Then opens it again and says, before he can stop it, “What are you doing?”

Mox stares. “Huh?”

“Like, you talk all the time, I know that, but you’re like.” He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know. Trying to be friendly.”

Mox’s face falls, and Adam practically watches him close in on himself as he scrambles to his feet. He can’t explain why his heart clenches at it, only that it does. “Oh.”

“No!” Adam says. “I – no, it’s not a bad thing. It’s just I didn’t expect it. Especially after I walked in on you –” Adam cuts himself off, because saying, ‘walked in on you jacking it’ feels a little too real for whatever’s happening.

Mox’s expression shifts incredibly slowly, from confusion to understanding to amusement. “Oh,” he says, drawing out the syllable. “Oh, you walked in on me with my hand on my dick and you freaked out.”

Adam wills himself not to turn red. He doesn’t think it’s working. “I didn’t freak out.” He forces himself to look up and meet Mox’s eyes, blue and bright. “I tried to be professional about it.”

“Yeah?” Mox says. “What if I didn’t want you to be professional about it?”

Adam’s eyes flicker from Mox’s eyes to his mouth before he can stop them. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Fuck a coworker in a hotel room. That’s great.”

“A coworker?” Mox says, pouting. He puts his hand to his heart. “I’m hurt. I’m at least an arch nemesis at this point, right?”

“Fine, fuck an arch nemesis,” Adam says, and he can’t fight the grin. “But that’s a bad idea, right?”

“Interesting,” Mox says. “You’re not saying no, you don’t want to. You’re saying no, it’s unprofessional? Weird stance to take when everybody knows what you and Cole were doing before your Revolution match.”

Adam shrugs and tries to act like he knew everyone was aware of what he and Cole get up to. “We have a history together. It’s what we’ve always done before matches.”

“You always blow him before a match?” Mox says. “I gotta get that on the schedule for our matches. Sounds nice.”

“Awfully presumptuous of you,” Adam says, but he can’t deny that the picture of Mox with his cock in his hand, that grin on his lips, is burned into his memory. “But I get what you’re doing now. This your seduction technique?”

“Not usually,” Mox says, and he stands, hand going to the place where the towel is tucked in on itself. Adam wants to pull at it. “But I figured, desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Adam licks his lips before he can stop himself. “Desperate, huh? You look it.”

“Excuse me,” Mox says, and he finally throws the towel to the ground. “You’re the one staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

“You walked out of the shower with nothing but a towel and started talking about our boss as a weird segue to flirting,” Adam says, and he hopes Mox doesn’t notice the way he spreads his legs, just a little. His hands are threatening to start shaking with anticipation as Mox climbs on the bed.

He is still hard.

“I’ll have you know my flirting is far more than just words.”

Adam can’t move and doesn’t want to as Mox leans in and kisses him, a hand on the side of his neck. It’s gentler than he would have expected, less insistent, and Adam rests a hand on Mox’s hip and pulls him down. His skin is damp and warm, and Adam grabs at it like a lifeline as Mox’s tongue slides across the seam of his lips.

Adam makes an involuntary little squeak and Mox pulls back.

“What?” he asks. “You good? Too much?”

Adam shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes. Jesus, ask one thing at a time.”

Mox grins at him. “Oh, I like you flustered.” He reaches out and brushes his thumb across Adam’s bottom lip. It’s devastating. “You good?”

Adam nods, Mox’s thumb catching on his upper lip. “I’m good,” he says. He’s already breathless, like he’s a horny teenager. This would be embarrassing if he weren’t so into it. “I just – not what I expected, you know?”

Mox shrugs. “Nah, but when the opportunity arises.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Is that a dick joke?” Adam asks. “Of course you’d make a dick joke right now.”

“What, I should make a fuckin’ – what else rises? A sun joke?” Mox asks. “Stay in the moment, Cowboy.”

“You stay in the –” But Adam’s cut off by a kiss, this one a bit less gentle.

He grips at Mox’s sides again, then flips them before Mox can react. Mox makes a funny little sound and adds teeth into the kiss, catching Adam’s lower lip, and Adam can’t help it. He moans into it.

Mox’s hands slide under and up his shirt, scratching at his back in a way that makes him kiss harder, press his leg between Mox’s legs. He chances a hand along Mox’s thigh, not getting too close, not until Mox says so.

Mox pulls his mouth away. “Fuck, Cowboy, you a tease, too? Grab my cock already.”

“Jesus,” Adam laughs, “you could be, like, a little romantic about it.”

“Oh, and you walking in on me jerking off just to give me my phone with my boss on the other line is romantic?!” Mox says.

“Okay,” Adam says, reaching up to spit in his hand, “to be fair, I didn’t know that’s what you were doing.” He curls his hand around Mox’s cock, laughing at the way Mox’s face relaxes, the way his head drops against the pillows. “Believe me,” Adam says, lips at Mox’s ear. He catches Mox’s earlobe between his teeth. “If I’d know that’s what you were doing, maybe I would have joined you.”

Mox lets out a fascinating little whine at the way Adam twists his hand. “Oh, I like this side of you,” he laughs.

Adam strokes gently, careful not to give too much pressure, too much friction. He’s still fully clothed. He’s not going to let Mox have all the fun. “Yeah?” Adam says.

Mox nods. “Hey, wait, you – too much clothes. Get naked.”

“No fuckin’ romance,” Adam laughs under his breath, but he leans back and pulls his shirt off over his head. He looks down to see Mox staring at him. “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“Just looking,” Mox says. “You got a chance to look at me naked, I’m just returning the favor.” Adam tries not to squirm under Mox’s gaze. “Hot. Alright, pants.”

With an eye roll, Adam unbuckles his jeans and rolls off of Mox, shoving his pants and boxers down his hips in one move. Mox stares at his dick and licks his lips. “Goddamn,” he says, voice low and pupils blown, “that Hung Bucks thing isn’t a joke, is it?”

Adam rolls his eyes and pretends he isn’t blushing as he gets back onto the bed and on top of Mox. As much as he didn’t see this as how his day would end, he’s enjoying it.

“Hey,” Mox says, grabbing a handful of Adam’s ass, “what if we take this to the shower?”

Adam pulls back from where he’d been working a bruise into Mox’s neck. “Shower?”

“It’s big,” Mox says, “Got some little seat things.”

Adam stares at him. “You don’t want to leave wet spots on the bed, huh.”

“There’s only one bed.” He wrinkles his nose. “We fuck here, things’ll get wet. One of us would be stuck sleeping in it.”

Adam pushes himself off the bed and walks to the shower. “For once in your life, you’re making sense.”

“You know this was my idea, right?” Mox says, following him. He puts his hands on Adam’s hips, half steering him to the bathroom. Adam finds he likes being manhandled like this a little bit. “You could be a little nicer about it.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Something tells me nice isn’t what you actually like.”

“Am I that predictable?���

Adam laughs as gets the shower started, the water turning warm quicker than he expected, and he steps under the stream. He hears Mox step in after him and then big hands span his stomach from behind him. He shivers under the touch. He has to fight the urge to push Mox off, used to those hands causing harm. But right now he’s gentle, warm, and Adam’s got to loosen up a little.

“Breathe, Cowboy,” Mox says into Adam’s ear, “not gonna hurt you.”

Adam laughs. “You sure about that?”

“I mean, unless you’re into it.” He punctuates it with a nip to Adam’s neck, sending sparkles through Adam’s vision. “But, nah. Just gonna do this.” He slides his hand down Adam’s body and wraps it around Adam’s dick. Adam drops his head backward, resting his head against Mox’s neck. A part of him is screaming to push away and run, but it’s a part that is way quieter than the part screaming fuck me.

“God, that’s good,” Adam mumbles before he can stop himself. He rolls his hips into the circle of Mox’s calloused fingers. “Fuck, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah?” Mox says, lips on Adam’s neck. “How long? With who?

“Me – fuck – me and Kenny used to fuck around a lot, happened once a few weeks ago, when – do that again, yeah – I went back with the Elite…” He trails off, eyes fluttering shut as he leans into the feeling, gripping at Mox’s hip hard enough to leave fingernail marks.

Mox laughs. “Maybe I bring you to the rest of Blackpool,” he murmurs. “I think you’d have a good time. Yoots might be kinda young, but he fucks like an animal.”

Adam laughs. “Yeah?” He turns to catch Mox’s mouth, pushing him backward against the wall of the shower. He’s grateful for the space, for the room in here to really move Mox around. “Knew I was right about that circle jerk shit, you horny motherfuckers.”

“Hey, you’re benefitting from this horny motherfucker, so you better not complain,” Mox says. “I’m gonna blow you now, okay?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, and he lets Mox press him up against the wall. “Fuck yeah.”

Adam watches as Mox sinks to his knees and grins up at him. He should say something, do something, but all he can do is breathe heavily and wait.

“You look good from this angle,” Mox says, and then his mouth is around the head of Adam’s cock and, frankly, Adam forgets how to think.

Mox is focused and determined as he works his tongue and lips around Adam in a way he hadn’t realized Mox could be out of the ring. Then again, he muses, as Mox reaches up to grip at Adam’s thighs, this isn’t far out of the realm. He giggles before he can stop himself.

“Are you laughing at me?!” Mox exclaims, pulling off of Adam’s cock. “Look, I don’t know shit about etiquette or whatever but I’m pretty sure laughing at the guy sucking your dick is bad manners.”

“Not at you,” Adam chokes out. “Just. Look, dude, this is a far cry from us and our friends trying to kill each other back at Double or Nothing, you know?” He runs his thumb along Mox’s cheekbone. “You look pretty both ways, though.”

Mox rolls his eyes at him. “You’re fuckin’ weird. I can’t believe I want to fuck you.” He shakes his head and dives back to wrap his mouth around Adam.

Adam closes his eyes and rolls into it, letting the feeling take him over. This is far different than what he gets up to with the other guys in the back rooms. This feels like they have all the time in the world, like they don’t have to worry or rush. Like Mox has all the time in the world, and he’s going to take it.

He pushes at Mox’s shoulder. “Get up here, I wanna kiss you.”

Mox stands and crashes into Adam, and Adam shivers a little at the taste of himself on Mox’s tongue. He reaches behind himself to get some of the cheap hotel conditioner and fumbles to cover his hand with it.

“Are you washing your hair right now?” Mox turns.

“No, dipshit, I’m gonna grab your dick,” Adam replies. He reaches down between the two of them. Mox is a little too far away, so Adam grabs his hips and pulls him closer so he can wrap a hand around both of their cocks at once. Mox lets out the prettiest little moan at it, a hand flying up next to Adam’s head to brace himself against the wall.

“Jesus,” Mox mumbles. He circles his hips in a way that makes his cock slide against Adam’s with just enough friction to make his head spin. “Kinda glad that our flight got cancelled now.”

Adam laughs, meeting Mox’s movements. “Yeah? There are definitely worse ways to spend a layover.” He glances up to see Mox’s tongue between his teeth, eyes locked on the way their cocks slide against each other. He can’t resist it – he leans in and catches Mox’s lips in his, swallowing the moan that follows.

He focuses on the sensations, the feelings, the sound of Mox’s breathing and of their dicks sliding against each other. That part of him that thinks this is a terrible idea keeps trying to get loud, but he shuts it up every time his lips meet Mox’s.

He feels it build slowly, like the water that trails down Mox’s forehead, in the base of his spine.

“Fuck,” Adam pants, “Mox, I’m close, I gotta –”

“Yeah, Cowboy, I got you.” Mox slides his hand around Adam’s, their fingers tangling, and that’s enough to send Adam over the edge.

He gasps, without meaning to, “Mox,” as he comes all over both of their hands, rocking his hips up to ride it out.

“God, that’s pretty,” Mox mumbles. He gets a little reckless and frantic, and he leans in to kiss Adam as he comes, biting down on Adam’s lower lip. Adam whines at it, and he has to work to make sure he doesn’t slip down the wall.

Mox rests his forehead against Adam’s and they stand there, gasping, as they come down from the moment. Adam realizes after a few moments that Mox is trailing his knuckles gently along Adam’s biceps. It’s sweet. It’s confusing. Adam doesn’t want it to stop.

“Cowboy,” Mox murmurs, pressing his lips to the side of Adam’s neck, “you fallin’ asleep or something?”

“No,” Adam says. He sighs before he can stop himself. “Just – enjoying the moment.”

Mox’s laugh is soft, almost sweet.  It doesn’t match the man Adam’s run into over and over again, but it feels right. “Yeah, me too. But we’re gonna get all wrinkly if we stay here.” He steps away, and Adam is suddenly very cold. It fades quickly, though, as Mox adjusts the showerhead to spray warm water on both of them.

“Gotta wash my hair,” Adam mumbles, fumbling for the shampoo.

“Let me,” Mox says.

Adam actually does get close to falling asleep as Mox gently massages his hair. “This soap smells good,” he mumbles. “Gotta stay in an airport hotel more often.”

Mox laughs and Adam’s pretty sure he presses a kiss to the back of Adam’s neck. “It’s probably just some sort of drug store shampoo, baby, don’t get too fancy about it.”

Adam sighs, just a little, at the nickname, and wants to hold onto it.

They finish washing up and drying off in near silence, a few words here and there scattered around, until they both drowsily curl into bed.

“Scoot,” Mox says, pushing his butt up against Adam, “we’re cuddling.”

“I thought you said no cuddling,” Adam mumbles, throwing an arm around Mox’s waist.

“That was before I saw what you look like when you come,” Mox replies. He sounds like he’s already nearly asleep. “Now we got a bond. So you gotta cuddle me.”

It’s not flawless logic, Adam thinks. But he’s cozy and warm, and he’ll let it slide.

~

Mini Playlist: Magnets - Lorde, Disclosure Familiar - Liam Payne, J Balvin I Want It - Two Feet Talking Body - Tove Lo

[thirsteasaint]

A Ramble: Phantomime by Ghost

This is about my opinion on the EP "Phantomime" by the band Ghost. May not align with your opinions, but whatever. We're adults here. If you continue to read, you have accepted the incoherent ramblings of a Ghost fan (a Ghostie, a Sibling of Sin, Ghost parishioner, etc).

To understand the album’s name: 

From Dictionary.com. Phantom (noun): 1. An apparition or specter 2. An appearance or illusion without material substance, as a dream image, mirage, or optical illusion. 

Pantomime (noun): 1. The art or technique of conveying emotions, actions, feelings, etc., by gestures without speech.  2. A play or entertainment in which performers express themselves mutely by gestures, often to the accompaniment of music. 

And with that, you get Phantomime!

The cover art is absolutely breath-taking. It was sculpted by Hedi Xandt, whose artwork you can check out on instagram! (LINK) Very cyberpunk and cool! They're also in videos on Ghost's YouTube channel. (LINK)

In an interview, it’s said Tobias worked on cover songs while also working on IMPERA. Whenever he felt like his writing wasn’t doing too good, he’d do a song or two. Having a folder called "Covers", these five ended up being the final selection. If you have a moment, you can read it on this blog by slavghoul as well as many others! (LINK)

So, I’m gonna rank each song from first to last! All on what my vibes were feeling. Though, I feel I should say I’m not familiar with the originals. Keep that in mind. Anyway, here we go:

See No Evil by Television 

Great way to start the EP! Tobias’ vocals are amazing in this. Got me pumped up, makes me wanna dance! Can’t shake the idea of this being part of a Kingsman film soundtrack. I’d like to watch an action scene while this plays.

Rating: 4 Papas out of 5

Jesus He Knows Me by Genesis

This was being teased with Papa IV’s face that said “Jesus is Coming.” And sure enough, he froqueing did. Wink, wink. Love the instrumentals, again Tobias’ voice is amazing! This one obviously is my number one favorite for lots of reasons, one of them being that blasphemous music video (do not watch it with family).

Rating: 5 Papas and 1 disgusting Father Jim (call me 🤙🏽) out of 5

Hanging Around by The Stranglers

Damn. Tobias, you can get it– I mean… Awesome song! I imagine going for a drive and blasting this, chilling and singing along. *coughs* Tobias, you free tonight? Wanna hang around? For an hour or two… 

Rating: 4.5 Papas out of 5

Phantom Of The Opera by Iron Maiden

Took me a few more listens. Long songs tend to be a hit or miss for me. I had problems hearing the vocals when I first heard it on their YouTube channel. The instruments were louder than Tobias. Now that the EP is officially out, the vocals sound better. Overall, I don’t mind it. A song I would repeat only if I’m playing the EP on repeat. So, putting it in the middle.

Rating: 3 Papas out of 5

We Don’t Need Another Hero by Tina Turner

TINA TURNER! Excellent song to end the EP! I can definitely picture this being played on tour. It has that oomph, ya know? A song I’d imagine myself belting out in the shower, channeling my inner rock star. Not sure what else to say, besides that it fuckin slaps! 

Rating: 4.5 Papas out of 5

Out of all of Ghost’s EPs, this is my favorite. I was kinda worried I wasn’t going to like it after hearing POTO, but damn… Tobias pulled through as always. This was something he did for fun and you can definitely hear it. 

Take it with a grain of salt, but I read somewhere that the EPs kinda reflect the current Papa frontman. And this is definitely fitting for Papa IV’s character. 

Can’t wait to see what the next full album will be! 

If you made it this far, thank you for reading!

[youngbloodbuzz]

bestie what did you think of ✨the record✨

i had to listen to it a few more times to answer this cause I like. i did not know where to start.

as a whole it's like the perfect length at 40 minutes and so easy to listen to their harmonies are incredible and I love the way they all shared lead vocals on various songs.

so many tracks were instant obsessed i need to listen to them on repeat favourites like true blue, not strong enough, satanist, and anti-curse, and overall I Love the album it's a strong outing but I will admit there's like two tracks that will take a while to grow on me

the self titled EP was always gonna be super hard to live up to cause it was just so unexpectedly perfect and i'd say like 90% of the album lives up to the hype/expectations

some moments i Love from the album in order of songs

a gorgeous acapella opening track that brings ketchum, id full circle imo. the lofi elements and harmonies are beautiful

the build up in $20 and phoebe bringing back the screaming in the harmonized outro. the one song I knew would catch my bff's attention as a boygenius intro song cause they love punk rock. i LOVE the layering of vocals in the outro

"I'm 27 and I don't know who I am" oh worm??? the harmonies on that line too CHEF kiss. emily girl whoever you are I hope your socials are all on private for the foreseeable future lmao

"You say you're a winter bitch, but summer's in your blood/You can't help but become the sun" hello??? oh my god. the outro in this song too is just...oh my god it makes me feel some kinda way, I've keeled over in awe and disbelief like every time. "it feels good to be known so well" jesus christ

cool about it will take some time to grow on me I think but god those lyrics are so brutal

the guitar work is so fuckin good the music video is SO good I feel like going on a road trip with the windows down with this blasting, but then you listen to the lyrics and it's so brutal like who HASN'T felt strong enough. "always an angel, never a god" just fuck me up

a gorgeous outro. i think this one will take a few more listens to grow on me too but that outro "I used to think/If I just closed my eye/I'd disappear" ahaha ow

this is such a funny and cute story song about being so invested in a song while driving that lucy missed a turn and julien and pheobe were like yea that fucked but you should probably turn the car around dskghasdf. "And I am not an old man having an existential crisis/At a Buddhist monastery writing horny poetry/But I agree" unnecessarily SO funny omg

another perfect punk rock song, the guitar riff in the chorus, the screaming vocals in the background that reminds me of aphex twin's come to daddy, the false ending, the change of tempo from fast in your face pace to a dreamy atmospheric landscape chef kiss

this is such a beautiful and bittersweet song to write about your friends, it's so painfully honest and hopeful. "You could absolutely break my heart/That's how I know that we're in love" how could they do this to me. that bit about the hummingbirds too what a beautiful sentiment

this song is SO julien behaviour. it's both so scary and so powerful and honest just like everything else julien writes about her mental health experiences and the production is so good. "I'm swimmin' back" being belted so powerfully and feeling like a direct callback "I wanted to stay" from claws in your back struck me so hard. "See, you don't havе to make it bad/Just 'cause you know how" lol ow

the only song on the album to make me fucking Cry and it's because of the last verse being a direct mirror to the last verse in me & my dog. with me & my dog still feeling like the mourning of a relationship and acknowledging how unhealthy it was, this one finally feels like anger and acceptance and finally recognizing that happiness and relief will eventually come to you and oh my god laying over the sound of the crowds cheers from their performance of me & my dog at the brooklyn steel concert was incredible and perfect

so overall, a fantastic album with only a small handful of songs that will eventually grow on me, I can't fucking wait to see them in june I cannot believe I got tickets to see them what a dream come true

[scaredgirlsilly]

ok I know you asked for asks on the other blog but. if you could make everyone in the world listen to one song what would it be

oh jesus thats. a really good question HDKSHDJSJ

so at first my mind jumped to just songs i liked. yk maybe basketball shoes by black country, new road yk that song is prob one of the best songs like. ever jflsjdksj or maybe a jeffrey lewis song?? idk im Fucking Obsessed with ine of his albums its a comfort album for me

but then i thought and my choice is Do You Know What Im Saying by applied communications (really id recommend the album but you just said song and thats my fav song on the album hfksjdjs)

so ok. this song (and the whole album but again just the one song for this) is not like. good on a technical level. the guy made the album when he was 16 after his mom died. but to me it is like. the epitome of amateur art.

the instrumental is poorly constructed with random drums and a droning base that just feels *slightly* off, the lyrics are weird and pretentious and sung (not even sung more like said) in a very odd way, randomly layering over each other in a weird cacophony of teenage angst. but that all i think adds to it. listening to it, at least for me, i can *feel* the emotions behind this song so palpably, and thats really all art is for right?? making you feel something. the artist has some feeling they want to share, and so they make art so that you the audience feel that same or similar emotion. everything else is extra.

i know i and many others get caught up sometimes in worrying about doing art "well" but i think this song and the album in general is like. my go to example of amazing art that is, on a technical level, not the best. and im not even saying bad cause like straight up its a banger i fuckin love it hfkshdksj but its v obviously not made for everyone. its not what some would think is well made music. but i think if i wanted to show everyone a single song, it would be this so i could just show them that art can be shittily made and still be amazing, and a world with mountains of shitty art is infinitely better than a world with only art from people who are """good""".

any time a friend has shown me art they have made, whether its drawings or paintings or music or writing or literally anything, it has been almost a transcendent experience. this person i love has taken the time to pour their heart and soul into something that is so unique that i couldnt find anything like this anywhere else. you can find songs like black country new road or jeffrey lewis around, but you cant find songs like you would make when you have no or little skill. and obv getting better at any given artform is always great we love that obv but like. idk shitty art is amazing too and i just want everyone to not be scared to make shitty art cause sometimes shitty art is the best and most heartfelt art there is

[downbytheriversside]

something you think that's underrated (show, music, ship, habit, animal, absolutely anything. can be multiple/a list. go wild)

Oh get ready to be here a while here we fuckin go...

Wind. It reminds me what it's like to be alive

Matt Maltese. Sad boy music that's so so good and makes me feel so much pain and catharsis. Also a lot of his songs are byler/Mike coded. You deserve an Oscar, shoe, everyone adores you, outrun the bear (byler will pov), as the world caves in, strange time (its second or third line is literally "and we'll both gladly lose our minds LIKE!!). Also paper thin hotel is tom wambsgan's song, and tom wambsgan's alone.

Lucas GODDAMN Sinclair. Need I say more? Doesn't matter cus I'm gonna- I genuinely believe he's the best written and performed character in the whole show, he's my sweet child ray of sunshine I love him dlfkgkfdn and he would NOT be the same without what Caleb brings to the table in his performance. And since day ONE he fucking ATE I keep putting EMPHASIS on so many WORDS but I digress. I do understand the problems with some of his writing which sucks but he is still incredible and you can tell that Caleb cares so much about him which I always love to see

The oh hellos album dear wormwood. Omg. Omfg. It's fucking TRANSCENDENT. ANYONE READING THIS WHO HAS GONE THROUGH/IS GOING THROUGH A TOXIC OR ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP OF ANY KIND LISTEN TO THIS IT IS SO HEALING. Not only is it cathartic asf but it depicts the anger and regret and pain and resignation and fucking every emotion under the sun that you experience in those kinds of relationships. And just how connected all of the songs are. The album itself is a loop, seriously. The last part of Thus Always to Tyrants (the final song on the album) leads right into the beginning of Prelude. And while we're on the subject of thus always to tyrants can we talk about how fucking impactful it is to end the album on that note? On a bittersweet toast to the people who hurt us because there is no getting rid of what they did, only making yourself stronger from it and healing?!!? About the notion that what they did was terrible but that is something you'll never forget because you can't but you're moving on to better things, wondering if they will change/have changed from who you knew them as?!??! ARE YOU FUCKNG KIDDING ME!!!!! AND just how connected the lyrics and melodies are in all of the songs. I've listened to the whole album easily over a hundred times and I still notice new lines that relate to each other or when bg melodies in one song are the main motif (?) of another. You can tell how much care and thought and love and emotion was put into its creation and I love it so so so much. Also if you dear reader do not want to spend 40 min listening to the album please please please just listen to Pale White Horse and Where is Your Rider. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Jesus fuck these songs. I'm just typing about them and I got chills like. I'm not joking at all when I say these songs actually changed my life. And the interconnectedness of them (sorta like a horse and its rider?) is just so special. They're whole fucking experiences to listen to and I will never get tired of it. Aaaaaaaahhh I wanna keep talking about this album but we'd be here for a long long long time but I might make a post about it if anyone was actually interested on my music blog @lyricsdumblikethelinoleumfloor at some point so. Stick around for that ?

Forehead kisses. We need more of those pls

Sincerity. For the love of the night sky. BE EARNEST! BE SINCERE!! BE GENUINE I WILL FUCKING STAB YOU-

Little thumb rubs while holding hands

My mutuals all of you deserve love and appreciation and tenderness every one of you fuckers I love you all <33333

Cucumbers. Shit fucks

LIBRARIES! Please if you can visit your local library, it'll be so lovely I prommy

Humans committing to silly bits together. And just like building off of each other's energy. One of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed and that I'm so grateful to have experienced

Introspection. For the love of fuck pleaaaase more people need this. Everyone needs to practice introspection idc just do it it's not some shameful act it just helps you grow

Peach flavoured things. They're yummy 😋

My ever growing gnome figurine collection pretty underrated imo kinda flying under the radar imho

Burger King foot lettuce

Laying on the floor and doing nothing. 10/10 activity honestly. Especially when you're in a sun spot shit fucks

And that's m'list! Glad you made it to the end, sorry for the long post

[weirdgirlbymommylonglegs]

I'm currently writing a mini-review of babyface for my boyfriend (we're doing like a book club thing, except with albums) and I was thinking about how Teeth is my favourite song from the album, and then I was speculating how Teeth is my favourite from babyface because Like A Body was my favourite from Juno Goes To The Big House. This chart is my theory about what your favourite song from babyface is based on what your favourite song from JGGTBH. It roughly translates as this:

If your favourite song from JGTTBH was I Fucked Yr Mom, then your favourite from babyface is most likely I Saw Jesus Hanging On A Basketball Hoop. If not, then it'll be wire mother or Hiccup (I wasn't able to find a connecting song between I Fucked Yr Mom and the rest of the EP; I could only do it for 2006 and Officer!).

If your favourite song from JGTTBH was awesome party, dude! then your favourite from babyface is most likely awesome party, reprise! If not, then it'll be Stoop Kid, Getting Sick or Enema.

If your favourite from JGTTBH was 2006 then your favourite from babyface is most likely You Scare Me (VIRGINIA WOOLF). If not, then it'll be Seafood, Stoop Kid or wire mother.

If your favourite from JGTTBH was Officer, That's Not Mine! then your favourite from babyface is most likely Shaving My Legs. If not, then it'll be Town Clown, Hiccup or Getting Sick.

And if you're like me and your favourite song from JGTTBH was Like A Body, then your favourite from babyface is most likely Teeth. If not, it'll be Enema, Town Clown or Seafood.

Of course I'm not the governor of this album (although the way I talk about it I fuckin act like it sometimes lol), think of this chart and my observations as more of a personality test. There's a bit of thought put into my connections; for example I've considered the songs tone, subject matter and stylistic choices and it's not purely vibes (although for a couple it is more so vibes) and I would be happy to expand on them. Furthermore I would be thrilled to hear your input - do my choices align with what happened with your listening experience? Would you create this chart differently? I'd be happy to discuss the above chart

[zigspunk]

this is a fucking rant about the wall by pink floyd so be aware

SO I LOVE THE WALL RIGHT????? I LOVE THE MOVIE BUT I HAVE A SMALL PROBLEM WITH IT: so in the album they describe pink’s mom as a controlling, manipulative, over-protective person. a text book helicopter mom. knowing where he was gonna go, what he was doing, checking out his girlfriends, “ Mama's gonna make all of your Nightmares come true “, “ Mama's gonna put all of her fears into you “, “ She won't let you fly but she might let you sing”, very protective, helping pink build the wall. in the movie, we only get a small portion of this protectiveness: 1. the song ofc (mother) 2. in ‘the trial’ animation and in the trial, we just see her turn into the wall, surrounding pink, and her comforting him (his lil doll version anyways) and idk why it just weird how they described her as this protective person and in the visual they just dont show her as one??? like in the movie its all fuckin like “im gonna protect you” AND SHE JUST LEAVES THE POOR DUDE OUT IN THE SUN OR SOMETHING AS A BABY, CRYING HIS EYES OUT???? WHILE SUNBATHING??

LIKE DAWG CHECK ON YO KID JESUS!!!!!!!!! Another problem i have is the song order??? why does it have to be weird?? like mother coming BEFORE goodbye blue sky when in the album it comes after bc the little dude DOESNT SAY “look mummy blah BLAG BLAHG NO PLANE GOO GOO GAGA” or whatever and then songs that arent even in the album are in the movie??? roger what the fuck is a tiger breaking free??? ik you were on acid when making the movie but dawg did you just fuckin say some bs like ”mate, ik im high as bolls rn but lets make some random ass songs that shouldnt be in the movie even though the album is long enough to make a fine movie” (must read in a british accent) and that small money reference. 

but i love the wall very much and ya