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[ghast1yghosts]

race car driver steve and pit crew eddie

flirting during pit stops. always seems like it’s going to lead somewhere but never does. eventually, as he’s heading to the track, steve tells eddie he’ll take him out *when* he wins. not if.

—

“she handles fine”

“can’t say the same thing about me”

“yeah?”

“hm”

“i think i could handle you”

“you say that to all the crew?”

“just the pretty ones”

—

“all oiled up and ready to go?”

“always for you harrington.

.. oh you mean the car”

“yeah, munson—the car. i already make enough pit stops as is.”

—

“we have a problem.”

“what? why what’s wrong??”

“you didn’t say anything about my outfit”

“…

turn around for me.

it makes your rear view look, *fantastic*”

“call my ass ‘my rear view’ again-“

“HEY! you ASKED THIS TIME”

“YEAH. *THIS TIME*”

—

“that engine isn’t the only thing i’m good at revving up.”

“…is that- are you-“

*shrug*

“UGH. i hate that that worked. that was TERRIBLE.”

“:)”

see, when steve finally gets the guts to actually commit to being serious, to genuinely asking eddie out afterwards, win or not, it goes a little something like this…

“Racers, please make your way to the start line.”

“Eddie?” He walks over as Steve pushes his helmet over his head, flattening his coiffed hair.

“Yeah?”

“After this race, when I win,” Oh, oh, is this going where he thinks it’s going? Is this Steve finally taking a chance on this grease rat? Surely n- “Would you let me take you out for dinner…?”

Eddie blinks at him, staring at his honey-brown eyes boring into him, from the tiny opening in his helmet.

“Yes,” his brain seems to reboot and gather enough coherence to spit out an answer, “Yeah, yes, please.” He can tell Steve smiles at him from the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I’d like that.”

“Cool,” Steve snaps his chin strap and tightens it. As he goes to slip on his gloves, Eddie walks up to him. He grabs onto the strap and tightens it himself just to make sure.

“Good luck,” he says, gripping Steve’s shoulder for a moment.

“Don’t need it, but thanks,” playfully snarky, he bends and gets into the car. Eddie laughs at the antics and backs up further into the pit, matching Steve’s cute little wave before he drives away.

For the first time in a long time, Eddie couldn’t care less about winning. He can’t wait for this to be over; the real prize is a long-awaited date.

But, until then, it’s game time.

—

Watching the screen in the pit till the racers turn the corner and come into view. Eddie keeps a close eye on his car—Steve’s kept good pacing most of the leg, leading a few laps, too. He’s due back for a stop soon, but until he can get out of the way of the other racers, they’re too packed for him to make any sort of maneuver. When those cars get like that, Eddie feels like he’s on the edge of a freefall. Not actually, because nothing ever happens, but it feels like something will. Every time.

Besides the scars and a dusty jumpsuit somewhere, that’s the only thing that sticks around from Eddie’s crash. Because that’s what it was, a crash. And a bad one. A side hit that jerked him into another, airborne before rolling, and rolling, and rolling. Getting pulled out, dazed and bleeding, while flames and sirens roared in his ears.

And although there’s more protection and safety precautions now, it still doesn’t make that night any better.

Steve makes another lap. He’s still boxed in close—extremely close. It’s a recipe for disaster, and they all know it.

Eddie’s eyes dart to the pack of cars crossing into his field of vision, and he sees it, someone side hits someone. Someone jerks–and clips 86.

It happens in slow motion. Like becoming untethered—realizing, yeah, you’re in freefall. The world feels like it’s moving at 1/8th the pace. Steve flies over the other drivers and into the catch fences.

Eddie barely registers he’s already moving into the pit track.

86 spins out, absolutely streded to the barebones. Slowing only to get hit again and into the run-off.

“STEVE!” Eddie’s out, running full speed to the remaining inners of the car. Static and ringing fills his ears. He can feel the way his heart is threating to fucking beat out of his goddamn chest. A mantra of “nononononono. not again. not to him,” screaming in his head.

For a speedway packed with people and maxed out speakers, it’s eerily quiet to him. Everything falling away, feeling sureal, like this is some fucked up nightmare—till he gets his hand on the smoking car. Noise comes rushing back all at once, too loud.

“STEVE!” voice gone hoarse, he yells out into the metal. He can see his vision blurring with tears, fear creeping onto him a tenfold. Eddie ducks down and looks into the smashed up window.

“I’m here!” It’s muffled, but at least he can see the dark tracksuit as the source. Eddie frantically reaches for Steve’s hand, and when he gets it clasped in his own, he tugs.

“I’m okay.” A feeble attempt to reassure him, he’ll believe those words from Steve Harrington when he sees it for himself.

Steve coughs as he puts his other hand on the edge of the door and tries to reef himself out. And Eddie tries to help out the best he can. About halfway out, Steve shifts and lets go.

Logically—well, not logically actually, Eddie’s acting on pure adrenaline at this point, all logic out the window—Steve’s just getting his hands under him rather than over, more leverage that way. But Eddie needs. to. get. him. out. of the car that’s currently on fucking fire.

As soon as Steve starts moving again, Eddie’s already wrapped his arms around his chest and is pulling him the rest of the way out. He kneels in front of him and tries to unclasp the strap. Hands so shaky, he can barely get his fingers to push down before gloved hands push them away. While he attempts to help Steve yank his helmet off, it’s feeble. That golden hair flops out, and the helmet gets tossed to the side; Eddie roams his hands over Steve’s face, looking for any visible damage.

Suddenly, warm hands circle his wrists, and Steve makes him meet his eyes.

The world comes bursting back in.

“-ddie? Hey? I’m okay. I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay-“

His face is wet. He’s practically in Steve’s lap, too. One of those hands drop his wrist and cup the back of head.

“Eddie. I’m okay,” Steve says. God, the sound that punches it’s way out of his chest sounds inhuman even in his ears.

There, a few feet away from the pile of rubble, Eddie engulfs Steve in his arms, tucking his face into the neck of old leather. He can feel Steve finally let go of him to give the cameras and the crew that surrounds them, a one handed thumbs up.

Eddie can’t help let out a soft laugh with Steve at the collective sigh of relief. He gets that arm wrapped back around him, giving him a tight squeeze. Steve ducks his face over to talk into his ear, “I’m okay. I’ll have a hell of a bruise no doubt, but I promise I’m okay.”

“Fucking better be,” Eddie mutters as he pulls away, hastily wiping his face. Steve huffs at him.

“Are *you* okay?”

“You did not just ask me that.” Eddie pushes himself off the man, offering Steve his hands and hoisting him up, too. He tests his footing, and it's shaky–something is definitely hurting.

“Eddie…” The fucker has the audacity to turn those sad down-turned puppy eyes on him. Steve knows how bad his wreak was, and it fits him too, to care more about Eddie than himself.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m standing, aren’t I?” Steve gestures a bit, Medic in his ear asking him to follow her. Because they’re still in the middle of the run-off, the game paused till Steve gets the okay, and they continue without him anyway.

“Does that sound reassuring to you?” Eddie crosses his arms.

“Hey-“ Steve shrugs, “-couldn’t miss our date, right?”

And, honest to god, Eddie would throttle him right now. But he can’t.

So, he does the next best thing.

Eddie Munson, pit crew of 86 and crash survivor, crosses the couple steps between him and Steve Harrington, current 86 racer and, hopefully, his boyfriend, and kisses him.

“I’m holding you to that.”

Steve smiles wide and pivots with his hand out for Eddie to take. And Eddie does.

They start following the Medic, but Steve turns around and flashes his goofy grin again, giving everyone in the stadium a thumbs-up.

Eddie laughs as the crowd roars.

[solxamber]

Royal Scandal- Ruggie Bucchi x reader

You're being forced to marry someone to take the throne you've fought your entire life for. Okay, if that's how it is, you'll make sure to choose the one person here that your dearest parents will disapprove of the most.

I really like how this one turned out!

The ballroom was resplendent, filled with swirling silks, dazzling jewels, and a sea of royals from every corner of the world. It was your nightmare, distilled into one room. You stood at the head of the grand staircase, glaring down at the crowd, feeling utterly betrayed by your parents.

You—the crown heir, a skilled warrior, a tactical genius, and the pride of your kingdom—reduced to nothing more than a prize in a political matchmaking game. It was an insult.

“Really?” you muttered to yourself, grip tightening on the bannister. “They think they can push me into marriage to take the throne? They’ll regret this.”

From across the room, the usual parade of suitors hovered about, each one vying for a moment of your attention. They were all here to win your hand, though it was clear many of them weren’t here for you. The throne, the kingdom, the alliances—it was all just a game of power to them.

And then there was him. The only non-royal standing awkwardly by the hors d'oeuvres table. Ruggie Bucchi.

Ruggie was here because of Leona, and Leona was here because Falena had pawned off the responsibility of attending this ridiculous event onto his younger brother. But as usual, Leona wasn’t particularly interested in mingling with anyone. He had quickly made his way to the most comfortable couch in the room, leaving his attendant Ruggie to do all the heavy lifting—literally. Ruggie was managing Leona’s food, drinks, and handling the other guests with a sharp smile that concealed just how little he wanted to be here.

Leona had been an unexpected ally ever since your diplomatic trip to the Savannah, where your banter had somehow sparked an unlikely friendship. Leona, for all his royal airs, had grown fond of teasing you relentlessly, and the two of you exchanged jabs every chance you got.

You've met Ruggie before, during the visit. You knew of his circumstances and a wonderful plan was brewing inside you at this moment.

Ruggie wasn’t a suitor. He wasn’t even remotely interested in this ball. And yet…

Oh, this could work.

A grin began to spread across your face.

The next morning, the grand hall was packed with suitors, ministers, and your parents, all eagerly awaiting your declaration. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword.

“Today,” your father began with his booming voice, “our heir will announce their chosen partner. We know that this decision will aid in the prosperity of our kingdom.”

Your mother nodded, casting you a pointed look, as if to remind you of the importance of this moment. Oh, if only she knew what was coming.

You stepped forward, scanning the room with a serene smile. Your heart raced with excitement as you looked past all the anxious, hopeful suitors. Finally, your gaze landed on Ruggie, who stood in the corner, shoving the last of a sandwich into his mouth. He caught your eye, freezing mid-chew.

You raised a hand, pointing directly at him. “I have chosen Ruggie Bucchi.”

There was a deafening beat of silence before your declaration actually registered.

Your parents’ smiles froze, the air in the room turning cold. The ministers paled, their gazes snapping toward Ruggie, who was standing in the back, his next sandwich halfway to his mouth. He blinked, looking over his shoulder like you couldn’t possibly mean him. Maybe there was a “Ruggie Bucchi” that he didn’t know about?

But the world stopped when it hit that yes, you did mean that Ruggie Bucchi—the hyena from the slums of the Sunset Savanna who had no royal blood, no land to offer, no armies. Just a cunning smile and a love for free food.

Leona, sitting lazily on the side, blinked at you before letting out a sudden burst of laughter, the sound echoing through the hall. His usual smirk widened into something truly wicked as he turned to your parents with a shrug. “Well, what did you expect? You did say they could choose anyone in the room, didn’t you?”

Leona, never one to miss an opportunity for chaos, leaned back in his chair and grinned even wider. “It would be a shame if you went back on your word now. After all, it was very clear—whoever they chose, right? I’m sure the esteemed royals wouldn’t go back on a promise they made to their only heir in front of all these witnesses.”

Your parents were speechless, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief. Your mother looked like she might faint, and your father sputtered, glancing between you and Ruggie, who still hadn’t moved from his spot at the back of the room. He slowly lowered the sandwich, looking very much like he was rethinking every life choice he had ever made.

Your father’s mouth opened and closed, his face rapidly turning a shade of purple as he tried to find words that wouldn’t cause a diplomatic disaster. Your mother’s eyes darted around the room, probably searching for an escape route. Meanwhile, the ministers exchanged horrified glances, clearly trying to figure out how to spin this in a way that wouldn’t end in utter embarrassment.

Leona, of course, wasn’t done yet. “You know,” he added, casually inspecting his nails, “a promise is a promise. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like Ruggie here’s your new royal consort.” His eyes sparkled with mirth, clearly loving every second of the madness you'd just incited. “After all, we wouldn’t want to insult the future ruler’s decision, right?”

You could practically see your parents’ souls leaving their bodies.

Ruggie, to his credit, finally stopped gaping like a fish and straightened up, wiping crumbs from his vest and putting on a cocky grin, like he had totally planned for this from the start. “Welp, looks like I’m movin’ up in the world,” he said, swaggering forward, though the slight wobble in his step gave away his shock. He shot Leona and you a glance that screamed, Why are you doing this to me? But Leona just gave him a lazy shrug in response, clearly enjoying the show. And you just grinned back at him.

Your mother finally found her voice, though it was shaky at best. “This… this can’t be—”

“Oh, but it can.” your voice cut through the hall, smooth as silk and twice as smug. “You said anyone. Don’t tell me you’re regretting those words now?”

Your father visibly swallowed, realizing the bind he was in. The ministers were sweating bullets, clearly hoping someone else would step in and stop this disaster, but no one dared to speak. After all, it would be political suicide to go against a future ruler’s decision in front of a room full of witnesses.

Ruggie had now reached the front, his grin widening as he gave a quick, exaggerated bow to you, looking for all the world like a cat that had just caught a very large mouse. “Guess I’m your guy now, huh?”

You flashed him a triumphant smile, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Looks like it.”

Your father, still in a state of shock, muttered something about tradition, but it was too late. The damage was done. You had chosen Ruggie, and with Leona egging on the entire thing, there was no way they could take it back without creating an uproar.

Leona, still lounging like the king of chaos he was, gave you a little salute. “Congrats to the happy couple. Can’t wait to see the wedding.”

Your parents looked like they might faint. The suitors—well, some of them looked relieved to not be part of this train wreck, but others were trying very hard not to burst into outrage. Ruggie just stood there, now fully committed to the bit, his grin as wide as ever.

And so, with your parents begrudgingly forced to accept your choice, the announcement was made. You had successfully thrown the entire royal court into chaos, and judging by the look on your face, this was far from over.

As for Ruggie, well, he was already calculating how much food he could swindle from the wedding feast.

After the uproar finally died down, and the ministers and royals reluctantly dispersed—each with their own whispers and murmurs of the chaos that had just ensued—you managed to pull Ruggie aside, away from the prying eyes of the court. His expression was still a mix of disbelief and amusement, as though he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what had just happened.

“Well, that was something,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’ve had some wild gigs before, but to be the royal consort? That’s a new one.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his casual tone, even as the situation around you felt anything but. You led him into one of the side corridors, away from the grand hall, before stopping to face him. Ruggie crossed his arms, clearly curious about where this was going. “Alright, spill it. What’s the deal here?”

You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “I know that whole declaration just now was insane, but I had to do something drastic.”

“Yeah, drastic is one way to put it,” he snickered, leaning against the wall, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m the only heir to the throne,” you began, the frustration in your voice evident. “I’ve trained my whole life for this. The swordsmanship, the diplomacy, the studies. I’ve done it all. But my parents—” you trailed off, your voice tight with anger, “—they won’t let me take the throne unless I get married. It’s ridiculous. I don’t need to get married to rule, but they refuse to see that.”

Ruggie tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “So, what? You picked me just to get them off your back?”

“Exactly.” You smiled, but it was more cunning than genuine. “They’re too stuck in their ways to listen to reason, so I decided to make them regret forcing me into this. That’s where you come in.”

His ears twitched in curiosity, though the grin on his face was as sharp as ever. “And what exactly do I get out of this?”

You took a step closer, lowering your voice to ensure no one overheard. “I need you to play along with this marriage for a year. Just a year. By that time, I’ll have stabilized the kingdom, taken the throne officially, and you’ll be free to leave. No strings attached.”

Ruggie’s eyes narrowed as he considered your words. “And what do I get in return?”

“The wealth you’ll get out of this will set you up for life. I’m talking more money than you’ll know what to do with. You’ll never have to worry about another odd job or scrape together food again. After this year, you can go back to the Sunset Savanna, and you’ll have enough to take care of yourself, your community, your grandmother—whoever. You’ll never have to work again.”

Ruggie raised a brow, a flicker of interest in his eyes. He was a practical guy, after all, and if there was one thing that motivated him, it was a good deal. “And all I have to do is pretend to be your royal husband for a year?”

“Yep,” you confirmed with a nod, crossing your arms. “Think of it as the best con of your life. We’ll fake the marriage, play the part for a year, and then when it’s over, you’re free to go with a fortune in your pocket.”

For a moment, Ruggie was silent, his sharp gaze studying you, likely weighing the pros and cons of this insane proposal. “So, you’re basically hiring me to be your fake spouse.”

“Exactly.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “You know, this is probably one of the most ridiculous offers I’ve ever gotten—and I’ve been offered some weird stuff before—but,” he shrugged, “money’s money. And if it means I get to live easy after this, then I’m in.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief washing over you. “So, we have a deal?”

Ruggie chuckled, extending his hand to you. “We have a deal. But don’t expect me to go easy on the royal kitchens while I’m here. I’m gonna milk this for all it’s worth.”

You smirked, shaking his hand. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Ruggie’s grin turned mischievous as he added, “And don’t worry. I’ll play the part of the perfect doting husband. We’ll give ‘em a show they’ll never forget.”

With the deal struck, you both walked back into the palace, the weight of the future ahead not lost on you. A fake marriage with Ruggie Bucchi—one year, just one year, and then you’d be free. What could possibly go wrong?

Except, somewhere deep inside, you had a feeling that the real challenge wasn’t in the act itself—it was in not falling for the witty, resourceful hyena at your side.

Your wedding was the most extravagant affair your kingdom had ever seen. You spared no expense, throwing the grandest celebration imaginable, just to rub it in a little more. Lavish decorations, exotic foods, and a royal procession that stretched for miles.

Ruggie, for his part, looked both delighted and completely out of place as he stood beside you during the ceremony. He leaned over at one point, whispering, “I’ve never been this well-dressed in my life. You sure we’re not overdoing it?”

You grinned, adjusting his ornate cape. “If we’re going to make them suffer, we might as well go all out.”

The priest, an elderly man with a tremble in his voice, stood before the two of you, his wrinkled hands holding the ceremonial scroll. His voice was deep, reverent, and filled with emotion—entirely too much emotion for the farce that was about to unfold.

You felt a little sorry for him, considering that he was the one who taught you the scriptures and history of your nation when you were younger, one of the only people to see you for you instead of the "heir". But you knew the next part was going to be hilarious.

“We gather here today,” the priest began, “to unite these two souls in the eternal bond of marriage.”

You dared a glance at your parents, sitting stiffly at the front row, their faces a mixture of horror and resignation. The ministers were whispering frantically among themselves, occasionally darting their eyes towards you and Ruggie as if hoping this was all a nightmare they’d soon wake up from. The absolute satisfaction you felt seeing them squirm almost made this whole ridiculous charade worth it.

But the best part? Leona. Sitting at the back, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the effort to keep from bursting out in laughter. Every now and then, you could hear a muffled snort escape him, and you had to fight the urge to look back at him. One glance, and you’d both be done for.

“And now,” the priest continued, oblivious to the brewing chaos, “the couple will exchange their vows.”

You took a deep breath, turning to face Ruggie. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly with suppressed laughter. His eyes met yours, and you could see the absolute glee dancing in them. This was going to be ridiculous.

You cleared your throat and began, doing your best to sound as dramatic and sincere as possible. “Ruggie Bucchi, from the moment I saw you,” you paused, a wave of barely-contained laughter bubbling up in your chest, “I knew you were the one destined for me. Your… resourcefulness, your… cunning, your ability to stretch a loaf of bread for days… it all captivated my heart.”

Ruggie’s eyes widened slightly at that, and you saw his lips twitch as he struggled not to laugh. You forged on.

“I vow to cherish every moment we spend together, whether it’s in the royal kitchen, watching you devour a feast meant for ten people, or in the court, where I know you’ll always have some… crafty solution to every problem.” You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face as you added, “I promise to never let a day go by without admiring your thriftiness.”

You finished with a flourish, and the nuns and priests in the room were openly weeping, clutching their hearts as though your “love” had moved them to tears. It was a struggle to not just burst out laughing at the scene. The more you spoke, the more ridiculous it all felt, and you swore you could hear Leona snickering from the back, not even trying to hide it anymore.

Ruggie cleared his throat, taking his turn, his voice as smooth and exaggerated as possible. “Your Highness,” he began, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. “From the moment you dragged me into this—” he coughed, “I mean, the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was something special. You’re not like other royals,” he said, the smirk on his face just barely concealed. “No, you’re so… generous. So thoughtful. Offering me all the wealth I could ever dream of—”

You gave him a small nudge with your elbow, and he winked at you before continuing.

“I vow to stand by your side, no matter how absurd the situation.” His grin widened, his voice growing more theatrical with each word. “I’ll be there when the royal chefs burn your food, when the ministers drive you mad with their endless meetings, and most importantly, I’ll make sure there’s always a way out of any mess you get into—royal or otherwise.”

The priest was dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief, clearly moved beyond words by the display of "eternal love" unfolding before him. The nuns were practically clutching their rosaries, and one of the ministers was furiously scribbling notes, perhaps planning to write a memoir about this "historic" union.

But you could feel Ruggie shaking with barely-contained laughter beside you, and you knew he was struggling just as much as you were.

Leona, meanwhile, was not helping.

“Isn’t this just the most touching thing you’ve ever seen?” Leona called from the back, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he stood up and clapped once, slowly. “I mean, who could have predicted such true love would bloom in the royal court? Makes you wonder why we ever doubted them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and sure enough, Leona’s face was barely composed, his smirk broad as he leaned against the back wall. He mouthed, “Go on, keep it up,” as if he was daring you both to escalate the absurdity.

Ruggie, never one to miss an opportunity, took the challenge.

“And, in return for your endless affection,” Ruggie continued, placing his hand dramatically over his heart, “I swear to be the most diligent husband this kingdom has ever seen. I will work tirelessly—mostly to keep you out of trouble, but also to ensure that you never have to lift a finger. You’ll never have to worry about running out of your precious riches, or losing your crown jewels, because I’ll be there to safeguard every coin.”

He shot you a playful wink before finishing with, “And of course, I’ll always be ready to take off with you when things get a little too… boring around here.”

The priest, overcome with emotion, was full-on sobbing now, while your parents sat pale-faced, probably wondering what cosmic force they had offended to end up in this situation.

The room erupted into applause, and Leona, now clapping with a wide grin, leaned over to one of the younger nobles. “You’ll tell the archivists that the vows were this good, right? Might as well get all the details in there.”

Your parents couldn’t even muster a response. They sat rigidly, eyes flickering from you to Ruggie, to the now entirely tearful congregation. The sight of the priests and nuns weeping, utterly convinced by your "heartfelt" vows, was the icing on the cake. You could almost hear the grinding of your father’s teeth from where you stood, and your mother’s strained smile looked one twitch away from cracking.

By the time the priest finally declared your union, both you and Ruggie were barely keeping it together. The ceremony had transformed into a spectacle of ridiculous proportions, and you weren’t sure if anyone could really tell if the applause was genuine or just out of sheer disbelief.

When the final words of the ceremony were spoken and you were “officially” bound together, Ruggie turned to you with a grin so wide it could only be described as mischievous.

“Well, Your Majesty,” he whispered, loud enough for you alone to hear, “we really pulled it off. But I think I deserve a bonus after that performance.”

You stifled a laugh, giving him a light shove. “Wait until after the banquet. I’ll have them send extra desserts to your room as compensation.”

And with that, the two of you walked down the aisle, the very picture of an odd, unexpected royal match.

Leona gave you both a mock bow from the back as you passed by, still laughing silently to himself as the ministers and nobles exchanged bewildered glances.

The following weeks were a blur of royal duties, much to Ruggie’s bemusement. He followed you around, trying to figure out how he ended up playing the role of a royal consort.

“So,” Ruggie said one evening as he flopped down onto the couch in your chambers, “I gotta admit, I thought this was gonna be way worse. I mean, I’m not exactly cut out for all this fancy stuff, but the food? The food is incredible.”

You chuckled, sitting beside him. “Well, it’s only for a year. Then you’ll be free, and you’ll never have to deal with this nonsense again.”

Ruggie shot you a grin. “You’re counting down the days already?”

You smirked. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, his grin softening. “Honestly? You’re not as bad as I thought. Could’ve ended up with someone way more annoying.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully. “Gee, thanks.”As the months went on, something strange began to happen. The more time you spent with Ruggie, the more comfortable things felt. Sure, it had started as a deal—a way to get what you wanted—but somewhere along the way, the lines began to blur.

Ruggie was surprisingly good company. His sharp wit and laid-back attitude were a refreshing change from the stiff, formal interactions you were used to with the other royals. He was resourceful, quick-thinking, and even though he constantly complained about the pomp and ceremony of royal life, he never once let you down.

Then there was the way he treated you. Not as a royal, not as some prized heir—but as you. He teased you, made you laugh, and shared stories about his home and his grandma with such affection that it warmed your heart.

Speaking of his grandma, the first time you visited her, she welcomed you with open arms. She was sharp-tongued and quick-witted, much like her grandson, and the two of you hit it off immediately.

“Oh, so you’re the one who roped my boy into this fancy business?” she had said with a cackle, patting your hand. “Well, you’ve got my approval, sweetheart. Just make sure you keep him in line.”

Ruggie groaned, slumping in his chair. “Grams, please…”

As the year drew closer to its end, you found yourself dreading the day Ruggie would leave. You didn’t want him to go. You didn’t want this to end.

The anniversary of your marriage was fast approaching, and your stomach twisted into knots every time you thought about it. Tomorrow, Ruggie would be free to go, just like you promised. A year of playing the perfect royal consort, and it would all be over. He’d get his freedom, you’d get the throne.

So why did the thought of him leaving make you want to scream into a pillow?

You paced your chambers like a caged animal, mentally kicking yourself. You were supposed to be a genius tactician. Yet here you were, spiraling into an emotional wreck because of one laid-back, cunning hyena.

The door creaked open, and Ruggie strolled in with his usual smirk. “You’re pacing. Never seen you this jittery before. What’s up?”

You froze mid-step, spinning to face him. Your mind was a mess of conflicting emotions. How were you supposed to say this? Should you ease him into it? Throw him off with a joke? No, definitely not the joke. He’d roast you for it.

Ruggie raised an eyebrow. “Uh, you good? You look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”

You blurted out, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Ruggie blinked. Twice. Then blinked again like he was trying to reboot. “Come again?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you repeated, feeling your palms start to sweat. You took a breath, stepping closer to him. “Tomorrow, you’re free to go, just like we agreed. But I… I don’t want you to. Somewhere along the line, this stopped being just a deal for me. I—I love you, Ruggie.”

Ruggie just stared at you, mouth slightly open like you’d just asked him to wear a ballgown and perform ballet in the throne room. Then he blinked again. “Wait… what?”

You closed your eyes. “You heard me.”

“I think I need to hear it again because there’s no way you just said that,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to get his brain working again.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I. Love. You.”

Ruggie stood there, looking like you just grew a second head. “Hold on, you’re serious?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m being serious!”

Ruggie scratched his cheek, looking away as if he was still processing. “Well, damn. Didn’t expect that.” Then he met your eyes again, his usual grin faltering slightly. “You really love me?”

You nodded, feeling your heart pound. “Yes. And I can’t imagine you not being here. Not as some royal consort, but… just as you.”

Ruggie stared at you for a long moment, before he let out a quiet chuckle. “Y’know… I didn’t plan on this either. This was supposed to be a quick gig, get some cash, eat some fancy food, and bounce. But… well, you’re not like the other royals. You’re kinda fun to be around.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Kinda?”

“Okay, fine, a lotta fun. Happy?” He grinned.

You punched him lightly on the arm. “Not the point!”

He laughed, rubbing his arm dramatically. “Ow, inflicting pain already? But nah, seriously… You’re different. And I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you if I actually left.”

Your heart flipped. “So… you’ll stay?”

Ruggie let out a sigh, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I mean, how can I leave behind someone who lets me sneak pastries from the royal kitchens without ratting me out?”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated but relieved. “That’s what you’re staying for?”

He laughed, pulling you into a loose, playful hug. “Nah, it’s one of the perks though.”

You rested your head against his, feeling your worries melt away. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh, you better. I’m expecting a raise and benefits.” He teased, planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

You smirked, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Benefits? What are you, my royal accountant?”

“Hey, I gotta get something outta this deal.” He grinned wider. “And speaking of, I plan on eating you out of house and home from now on. Just a heads up, Your Majesty.”

You groaned, swatting him on the arm again. “That’s already happening, Ruggie!”

“I mean even more now. You’ve created a monster.” He laughed, pulling you closer again, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “But seriously… I didn’t think this would happen either. Us. But I’m glad it did.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. “Me too.”

As you stood there in each other’s arms, you couldn’t help but think about how far you’d come from that deal. What started as a scheme to outsmart your parents had turned into something real, something you hadn’t expected, but something you wouldn’t trade for the world.

And as Ruggie’s laughter echoed in the room, you realized that maybe, just maybe, plans falling apart wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Well,” Ruggie said, smirking at you. “Guess I’m stuck with you now, huh?”

You chuckled, leaning into him. “Yeah, but admit it—you love it.”

He kissed your other cheek, his voice soft but teasing. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

And with that, you knew inciting that royal scandal was the best thing you could've ever done.

Masterlist

I don't know why but this is the fic that I like the most out of everything I've written lol it was supposed me like 2k words but I couldn't stop and this was born.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

NOW CLOSED!

Wanna win a queer historical romance book? Wanna win.... TWO queer historical romance books??

@tjalexandernyc and I are hosting a joint giveaway to celebrate our upcoming novels!

Enter for a chance to win a prize pack that includes ALL THE PAINTED STARS by Emma Denny, an advance reading copy of A GENTLEMAN'S GENTLEMAN (UK title: THE EARL MEETS HIS MATCH) by TJ Alexander, plus secret extra swag and treats.

To enter, just fill in this Google Form.

Giveaway will close on the 5th November - the date All the Painted Stars comes out in the US - so you've got one week to enter! Full blurbs as well as Ts&Cs under the cut.

ALL THE PAINTED STARS

When Lily Barden discovers her best friend Johanna’s hand in marriage is being awarded as the main prize at a tournament, she is determined to stop it. Disguised as a knight, she infiltrates the contest, preparing to fight for Jo’s hand. But her conduct ruffles feathers, and when a dangerous incident escalates out of Lily’s control, Jo must help her escape.

Finding safety with a local brewster, Lily and Jo soon settle into their new freedom, and amongst blackberry bushes and lakeside walks an unexpected relationship blossoms. But when Jo’s past catches up with her and Lily’s reckless behaviour threatens their newfound happiness, both women realise that the choices they make will always have a cost.

***

A GENTLEMAN'S GENTLEMAN/THE EARL MEETS HIS MATCH

The notoriously eccentric Lord Christopher Eden is a “man of unusual make” and even more unusual habits: he prefers to live far from the prying eyes and ears of the ton, and would rather have the comfortable company of his childhood cook and his aged butler than the swarm of servants and hangers-on befitting a man of his station.

But Christopher’s pleasant, if occasionally lonely life is upended when he receives word from his lawyers that, according to his late father’s will, he must find a wife by the end of the Season if he intends to keep his family’s fortune and the Eden estate. If his quest to marry has any hope of succeeding, he must move to London posthaste and acquire some more suitable staff. Enter James Harding, Christopher’s new, distractingly handsome—if rigidly traditional—valet.

***

Terms & Conditions

Open internationally. No purchase necessary. One entry per person at the link provided. Sweepstakes not affiliated with or endorsed by Google, Vintage Books, HQ, or any other entity. One winner will be randomly selected at 3 PM EST on November 5, 2024 and alerted via email. Winner will be required to share a valid mailing address in order to receive prizes.

[jaykesgirly]

first date

boyfriend!hyung line x gn!reader

synapsis: quick scenarios on where the hyung line would take you on your first date together

genre: fluff; no warnings needed

wc: 693

a/n: this was written in like 20 minutes so i apologize if it is literally horrible

Heeseung

He would 100% take you to an arcade for your first date. With his love for games he thought what better of a place for a first date right. He will get competitive when it comes to certain games but most of the time I can see him trying to let you win unless you’re just god awful at it. If it was a one player game and you didn’t know how to play it, Heeseung would take the chance to show off a little by showing you how to play. This man is very playful and will definitely tease you if you’re really bad at a game. BUT he will find it so endearing when you start pouting at his words and will immediately apologize and tell you he was joking. The night would end with the two of you getting ice cream and talking about all the stupid arcade prizes each of you won. Heeseung WILL be getting you a plushie no matter what, even if it takes him an extra 1000 tickets he is determined to make sure you walk out of that date with something he won for you.

Jay

I can’t think of Jay doing anything other than a nice dinner date out for a first date. He’s a very classic type of guy and will take you out somewhere more upscale since he has the means to do so (he just wants to spoil you ). He also just wanted an excuse to see you dressed up in something pretty. Will be the perfect gentleman from the time he picks you up to the time he drops you back off at home: opening the car/restaurant door for you, pulling back your chair and pushing you into the table, if you’re walking on the sidewalk he will be walking on the street side, and so so much more because this man is so smitten by you. If you even think about paying for this meal he will quickly stop you and tell you that you never have to pay for a date as long as you’re with him (he loves to spoil his favorite person).

Jake

Picnic date. Jake is the type to love the outdoors and would LOVE to sit out in nature with you. He will also insist on making all the food himself so it can be more special (even though his cooking expertise is limited). On the day of your date he will show up with everything packed in a cute picnic basket and a picnic blanket in hand. He made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apple slices, and some crackers along with a couple thermoses of ramen because it’s one of the only things he knows how to cook. Jake will take you to the prettiest park he knows to make sure the scenery is perfect for this date. You two will have such a lovely time enjoying each other's presence and talking about literally anything until the sun goes down. You two will watch the sunset together and it will make for the perfect romantic ending to this date.

Sunghoon

It would be a crime if I made Sunghoon’s literally anything except for ice skating. He genuinely would not know anywhere else to take you so his first instinct was to take you back to his own element. Sunghoon was fully prepared to be taking it slow with you while skating because not everyone has the same experience as him, so he will be holding your hands guiding you through the rink until you start to get the hang of skating (also sees it as an opportunity to be close to you). Fair warning he will laugh at you if you fall and eat shit, but will eventually help you up off the ice and back to your feet. And if you ask if you can simply sit and watch him skate how he used to, his heart would literally skip a beat. He would pretend to protest for a minute but would eventually oblige and show you some of his old tricks he used to do on the ice.

[mysaintkitten]

smut with cillian murphy at the golden globes? am i crazy?

Claim Your Prize | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

!!disclaimer!! this fic does Not represent Cillian as a person, we love and support Yvonne here. this is simply for fun/fantasy! :3

WARNINGS: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public-ish sex, mirrors are involved, kind of sweet sex i think lol, creampie (of course)

“And the award goes to …”

A moment of silence and anticipation fills the room as the announcers carefully pry open the envelop containing the winners name. Beneath the table, you anxiously grab Cillian’s hand. He squeezes it gently in response.

“Cillian Murphy!”

As soon as his name escapes their lips, a wave of relief and appreciation crash over you. Finally, the most hardworking man you know is getting the admiration he deserves.

The people around you clap and cheer, and before Cillian heads up to accept his award you give him a quick hug and a kiss. A brief glimpse into the intimacy the two of you regularly share, yet are never public about it.

It then all becomes a beautiful, hectic blur. As cillian stands in front of everyone accepting his award, he seems to find all the right words to say, and all the right ways to say it. All you can do is stand back and watch him, giving him your utmost respect as he gives his thanks.

When his speech is over and the announcers move on to the next category, you get up from your table to meet Cillian half way. Since the rooms so tightly packed, the best route along the outer edges. As soon as he makes you out in the crowd he smiles happily at you, his eyes beaming with energy and gratitude.

Once you’re face to face, he hugs you again, tighter, finally getting a chance to hold you like he’d initially wanted to when they first announce his win.

Whilst getting ready earlier, you couldn’t help but brainstorm different ways to “reward” Cillian if he won. He isn’t very materialistic, and you knew that the only thing he truly wanted from you was your support, to stand by him whether he won or lost.

But you wanted more, you had to give him something you knew he needed after all these gruelling months of seemingly endless work.

So, after slipping into your dress for the event, you slipped off your panties directly after. Wanting Cillian to have as easy access as possible if he wins.

And now you’re here, wearing no panties underneath your dress, while hugging your winner of a husband.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper softly in his ear, turning your head a bit more to give him a kiss on the cheek, “so proud.”

He hums back, briefly nuzzling into your kisses before copying your gestures and kissing you on the cheek, leaving small quick pecks until he ended up back at your lips where he kissed you properly.

The kiss is passionate, warm, not yet sexual but you knew how easily it could fall into that territory.

“I have a gift for you,” you purr in his ear before dragging your fingers along his back, planting a small kiss on his neck and then pulling away.

“What is it?” Cillian asks, earnestly curious, he looks down for a moment but quickly realizes you aren’t carrying anything with you. With a mischievous grin, you grab his hand and lead him away to a private area. You’re able to sneak away quite easily, everyone else is much too fixated on the next winner anyway.

The hallways are vacant for the most part, a few scattered workers here and there, but all you’re thinking about is getting Cillian alone.

Whilst roaming the halls, you spot the bathroom. A unisex, single bathroom. Although it’s not ideal, it’s the best you’ll find in a place like this. Once Cillian sees where you’re heading, it doesn’t take long for him to figure out what your “gift” may entail.

After taking one more good look around, you decide the coast is clear enough and you both sneak into the bathroom before promptly locking the door.

It’s nothing special. A toilet, a sink, a mirror, what you’d normally expect to find in a bathroom. Luckily for you, the room had clearly just been cleaned. The counters and mirrors were spotless, and it smelt faintly of lemon and fresh laundry.

You swiftly turn around to face Cillian, placing your hands on the counter behind you, that sneaky little grin still spread across your lips.

With an equally naughty smile, Cillian presses his body against yours, him too placing his hands on the counter.

“So, what kind of gift does my lovely wife have in mind?” Cillian teases, kissing you gently on the lips, his voice lowers before he speaks again. “One that we need to be all alone for …”

The warmth between your legs intensifies, and the pressure of his body alone is enough to make your brain fuzzy. You drape your arms around his neck, briefly running your fingers through his hair.

“Just wanted to give you a little something that I know you’ve been missing,” you coo innocently, “something that you deserve after all this long …”

You pause for effect,

“And hard …” your voice becomes breathier as bring an arm down off his neck and snake it between your bodies, your grasp landing between his legs to palm him through his trousers, “work.”

Cillian growls, deeply inhaling your sweet and comforting smell, “you don’t know how much I’ve missed this.”

Quickly, Cillian turns you around, your hips now against the edge of the counter top. And now, you’re met with your own reflection. Both you and Cill with flushed cheeks and slightly messy hair, your makeup smeared around the edges of your lips while Cillian’s have a faint red-ish hue from your lipstick.

“I’ve missed this, too,” you sigh as your arousal stirs within you, at this point you don’t doubt that your wetness has made its way to your inner thighs. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“S’all thanks to you, really …” Cillian groans against your neck, kissing the skin hungrily. “You’re the only thing that’s kept me fuckin’ sane throughout all of this.”

“Cill …” you giggle at his sweet words, your fingers carding through his hair while he stands behind you, his grip on your hips tightens and you feel him roll his hips against your ass. His warm bulge just begging to be freed.

“Honest,” he defends, “while I was on set, or late at night when I couldn’t sleep, the only thing that brought me peace was you.”

Despite how sweet Cillian’s being, you didn’t take him in here to some exchange kind words or swap some spit.

“You’ve got me here now,” you make eye contact in the mirror, his pupils blown and swimming with lust, “claim your prize.”

The palms of his run along your stomach, his head dipping down to place a kiss onto your neck before bringing his eyes back up to your reflection. Those same palms find your hips, gently gripping the soft skin before sliding his hands down further around your thighs.

He begins to grab at the material hanging down your legs, attempting to hike up your dress as best he can. You bite your lip and give him some assistance in pulling up the fabric, eager for him to see the little surprise you have for him.

Once your dress is lifted up enough, Cillian groans at the beauty in front of him. Your ass on clear display, no panties or tights obstructing his view.

“Were you like this the entire time?”

He watches you nod, a proud smile spread across your lips with your bottom lip still tucked between your teeth. With a smirk he shakes his head, quickly unzipping and unbuttoning his trousers. He pulls them down just enough to allow his cock to spring free, and you feel his hot member pressing against your ass.

Cillian dips a hand down between your legs from behind, trailing his middle finger along the slick seam of your pussy. He dips his finger in, moaning lowly at the warmth and wetness of your core.

“Jesus, baby. Missed my cock that badly, huh?”

You nod while watching him through the mirror, completely transfixed by the sensation of his body against yours along with Cillian’s effortless beauty and sex appeal. You’ve never had a partner that knew which buttons to press as well as Cillian, he could read you like a book.

A small sharp inhale is sucked from your lips when you feel the tip of his length teasing your pussy, smearing your arousal around before gently prodding at your opening.

“Look at yourself when I put it in.” Cillian purrs in your ear, sneaking a large hand up to your neck, gripping your neck and jaw and moving your head forward, forcing you to face your own pleasure.

Already you feel some small amounts of embarrassment, your cheeks are all flushed and your hairs all messy- how could you look so ruined already?

Before you can think too much, Cillian’s pushing his cock inside, slowly. You watch yourself as your mouth starts to hang open, and your brows pinch together. You feel his cock nearly splitting you open, giving you that oh so familiar sweet stretch that you’d been craving after all this time.

“You’ve gotten so fuckin’ tight …” Cillian groans from behind, his warm breath against your neck causing your body to shiver. “You missed getting filled up like this, sweetheart?”

You nod, panting heavily while barely being able to keep your eyes open. His hips roll back out before harshly snapping back in, forcing a pathetic whimper to slip from your lips.

“Yes, yes!” You moan, gripping the edge of the counter as Cillian’s grip on your jaw tightens. Your eyes crack back open and you see your own face again, the pure pleasure he’s giving you leaves you almost unrecognizable in your own eyes. “Missed y-you and your cock-k so much … love you so much …”

It wasn’t very common of either of you to say ‘I love you’ during sex. You’d say it regularly before and after the act, but during? Rarely happened. But since you’ve missed Cillian so much, and he’s been so busy, and now that all his hard work has paid off- it only felt right.

Well, that and the fact that you were already getting cock drunk off of him, your brain barely processing whatever words are coming from your mouth.

“Love you too, darling.” He breathes, kissing your neck while thrusting into you roughly, your hips pushing so harshly against the counter you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. You don’t care. If anything, you want it to bruise. You want the physical reminder that your husband gave you a good, hard fucking after so many months of separation.

“Love your face, and how cute you look when you’ve got a cock inside you,” Cillian teases, nipping at the shell of your ear before kissing your neck again. “Love this pussy …”

“Fuck-“ you gasp, already feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to form. You really want to make this last, but it’s all been building up within you for far too long now.

“Love, love, love you, my sweet girl.”

“I-I- fuck-“ embarrassment pangs inside you, already too ruined to properly respond to him. Even though you hate it, you know Cillian adores it. While pounding into you, he feels your channel become slicker around him, the subtle sound of your wetness filling the room combined with some mewls and heavy breaths.

“C-Cill, gettin’ close-“ you warn, opening your eyes as best you can to see Cillian when you come. The hand that was gripping your jaw slides down your back, creeping over towards the front of your body where Cillian starts to rub quick circles onto your clit. His other hand digging into your hip.

“Come, baby. Please, missed seeing that pretty little face of yours come undone for me.” Cillian encourages with a growl, the mind-melting combination of pleasure had you tipping over the edge merely moments after.

Your orgasm hits you hard, the hardest you’ve come in months. You bite into your bottom lip roughly to try silence yourself. Your knees wobble, nearly giving out beneath you, but Cillian’s strong grasp on your hip keeps you up on your feet. While wincing from sensitivity, you push away the hand that was rubbing your clit, Cillian obliges.

“That’s it,” he groans, his own thrusts becoming sporadic and sloppy, “gonna come inside, baby.”

You nod and whine, the sensitivity and pleasure had your entire body vibrating.

“Please, please come inside. I need it.” You beg almost pathetically, wanting nothing more than to feel Cillian’s warm spend spilling out from inside you. He’s panting, cursing, sweating slightly, desperate to give you as much of his come as he can.

He bites down on your shoulder while keeping his hips flush against yours, his cock almost painfully deep inside you, you feel his cock twitch. His hot seed painting your silk walls, just like he’d been fantasizing about for all this time.

Once it starts to become too much, he slowly pulls himself out, only to lean his body forward while spreading your cheeks apart, attentively watching as some of his come trickles out of your pussy. He brings his middle finger up and gently shoves his come back in, earning a small whimper from you.

He leans back up and smacks your ass, making you gasp and giggle before letting the fabric of your dress fall back down to cover your legs.

Cillian turns you around and kisses you, sweetly and passionately.

“Thank you for the gift, my love.”

“This was just the first part, baby. The real gift comes when we get home.” You tease with a wink. You take the next few moments to clean yourself up and fix your appearance before heading back out to the event.

You spend the rest of that evening with Cillian’s come seeping out of you, a dirty little secret that only the two of you share.

—

this fic doesn’t really do it justice but I loooove in fics involving mirrors where the top or whoever’s in charge forces the other to look at themselves getting ruined :,( eat it up every time

[twinsimming]

New Scholarships by Twinsimming 🎓

"Need some extra simoleons for university? Sims University now offers a variety of scholarships for prospective students!"

This is a script mod that can be placed in your Packages folder. It was built and tested on 1.69 but should work fine on 1.67.

Requirements

To access all of the scholarships available with this mod, the following packs and store content are required:

The Sims 3: World Adventures

The Sims 3: Ambitions

The Sims 3: Generations

The Sims 3: Showtime

The Sims 3: Supernatural

The Sims 3: Seasons

The Sims 3: University Life

The Sims 3: Island Paradise

The Sims 3: Into the Future

Fit As a Fiddle Violin (The Sims 3 Store)

Artisan Glassblowing Station (The Sims 3 Store)

Stiff as a Board, Light as a Feather Dance Floor (The Sims 3 Store)

Overview

Applying for Scholarships

Types of Scholarships

Maintaining Scholarships

New Moodlets

Online Aptitude Test

New Cheat

Applying for Scholarships

Teen sims and older have a new “Apply for Scholarships” interaction available at the school rabbithole or on the computer under “Sims University Online”. Though they’re less likely to win a scholarship if they apply online rather than in person.

If your sim wins a scholarship, they will not be able to reapply for that scholarship again. If they do not win, they will be given a Disappointed moodlet and have to wait a day before applying again.

Types of Scholarships

There are four (4) types of scholarships your sims can apply for: General, Legacy, Skill Based, and Occult. In total, there are 18 scholarships, each with their own custom moodlet. 

Sims have a 45% chance of winning a scholarship in the General, Legacy, and Occult categories when applying in-person and a 40% chance when applying online.

Sims have a 6% chance of winning a Skill Based scholarship at Level 1 of the required skill. This chance multiplies with each skill level, with a maximum of a 60% chance at Level 10.

Certain traits can either increase or decrease your chance of winning a scholarship by 5% (note: this value stacks the more traits your sim has):

Increased Chance Traits - Lucky and Ambitious

Decreased Chance Traits - Unlucky and Loser

Some of the scholarship names are originally from The Sims 2 and the others I made up myself. They are listed below by category:

General

Young Entrepreneurs Award (§750) - Requires Level 3 part-time job, Teen only

Orphaned Sims Assistance Fund (§750) - Requires deceased or non-existing parents, Teen only

Golden Year Scholars Grant (§1000) - Elders only

Gemini Hidden Masters Prize (§1500) - Requires Level 10 in one hidden skill

Legacy

Student Service Workers Fund (§1000) - For sims with a service worker hidden trait (Makes No Messes, Pyromaniac, Can Apprehend Burglar, Can Salute, Immune To Fire, or Pizza Appreciator)

Cultural Exchange Program (§1000) - For sims with one of the hidden culture traits from The Sims 3: World Adventures

Students of Tomorrow Scholarship (§1000) - For sims with the hidden Future Sim trait from The Sims 3: Into the Future

Skill Based

Dreamer Family Artisan Award (§750) - Requires at least Level 1 Artisan Skill

Tsang Footwork Award (§750) - Requires at least Level 1 Dance (Store) Skill

Violin Society of SimNation Scholarship (§750) - Requires at least Level 1 Violin Skill

Occult

Undead Education Scholarship (§1500) - For Vampires, Zombies, and Ghosts

Extraterrestrial Reparation Grant (§1500) - For Aliens and sims recently abducted by Aliens

Spellcasting Scholars Grant (§1500) - For Witches, Fairies, and Genies

Lycanthropy Philanthropy Fund (§1500) - For Werewolves

Bots Opportunity To Specialize (B.O.T.S.) (§1500) - For Simbosts and Plumbots

Forbidden Fruit Fellowship (§1500) - For PlantSims

Real World Acclimation Fund (§1500) - For Real Imaginary Friends

Aquatic Allies Award (§1500) - For Mermaids

Maintaining Scholarships

After winning a scholarship, your sim will get the new custom Won Scholarship moodlet. They have a week to either enroll in online university with my Attend University Online mod, or in-person university to remain eligible for their scholarship.

If they fail to enroll in time, their scholarship will be rescinded and they will have to pay back the money they were awarded. If they can’t afford to pay back the scholarship amount in full, it will be added to their next household bill. (No free money here!)

Once a sim has a scholarship rescinded, they will get the new custom Lost Scholarship moodlet and be barred from applying for scholarships for 3 days.

New Moodlets

Won Scholarship: Given when a sim wins a scholarship, lasts 1 day, +20 mood, each scholarship has its own custom moodlet icon

Lost Scholarship: Given when a sim has a scholarship rescinded, lasts 3 days, -20 mood, makes sims stressed

Online Aptitude Test

Teen sims and older can now take the university aptitude test on the computer under “Sims University Online”. It works the same as the default interaction.

Tuning

All of the tunable values can be found on the mod download page under the header “Tuning”.

New Cheat

If you want to clear all scholarship winners in your world (on a per save basis), enter the cheat menu and type “ClearScholarshipWinnerData” without the quotation marks.

Conflicts & Known Issues

This is a new script mod so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 3 and The Sims 4, Visual Studio 2019, ILSpy, s3pe, Notepad++, and Script Mod Template Creator.

Thank You

Thank you to gamefreak130, Battery, @zoeoe-sims, @greenplumbboblover​, and @monocodoll!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi 💙

Download @ ModTheSims

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part ten

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: playlist coming v soon!!

series masterlist // playlist

Coriolanus lets out a scream of anger as he pulls the weight of the cement block down on the boy again, dishing out every last bit of rage he had over the inconvenience he had caused. He had to. He was sure the tribute was already dead, but one more hit couldn't hurt- not when he needed to make sure he was really done; not when it felt so powerful the first time.

He's breathing heavily, staring down at the body in front of him with his curls falling in his face, preventing him from seeing reality. Shielding him from seeing you.

You open your mouth to speak, but you can't. To ask if he's okay, but clearly he is- that final blow was too late to be a hit out of desperation, panic, or pain. It was pure, unnecessary retaliation. It went against everything you stood for. Everything you said.

Coriolanus was Coriolanus indeed; you could see it in the darkness that suddenly appeared behind his eyes. It was like he had done it for fun.

He looks up only when you take a step back, shoe crunching over the rubble underneath your sole and alerting him to your presence.

"Y/N-"

You look between the boy you thought you knew and the battered body on the ground. You take another hasty step back.

The power he thought he felt was replaced instantly by guilt when he saw the look on your face. He wasn't sure your kind features were even capable of showing an emotion so abrasive as disgust- but that was all he could think of to describe what he had to guess was going on behind your eyes. Betrayal, maybe. Horror, even, at something he had done. He moves to take a step toward you, dropping the metal rod in his hand so maybe you'd give him the chance to explain but you were taking off like a bird in the street threatened by a moving car the second he moved a muscle. He freezes, hand extended toward you despite you being too far to reach.

You were scared. Of him.

He very quickly had more pressing matters than your understanding or coping with the idea that you had run from him since he was now hearing the war cry of Coral and her pack as they ran from the tunnels toward the exit he was standing under.

He was grateful you had fled before that, hoping they didn't see you before you hid away again. He hops back over the gate, grabbing Sejanus and forcing him through the front entrance just in time.

"For Coriolanus, when I am gone."

He reads over the words on the outside of the intricately folded note over and over again, sitting at his desk and trying to ignore the stitches pulling at his back. Sejanus had given the note to him when he was discharged from the hospital. A note from you. It was a goodbye, he knew it. Something about your delicate handwriting on the outside felt so sacred to him.

"My Dearest Corio,

For once, I cannot express with words what I need to say to you. Regrettably, Sejanus is waiting so I must find something to say soon. I'll begin with thank you. You told me not to thank you until you had done something for me, but what you didn't understand was that you already had. Having a friend at the end has meant the world to me. I wish I could tell my family about you. When I can't sleep at night, I think of how much they would love you, and how we could sit together in the field at night and look at the stars. I hope one day you get to see them.

I apologize that I have to ask one more thing of you. I admit, I do not know how your mentorship works, but I hope with all my heart that I have done enough for you to win your prize. I regret that I will never know. I'm sorry that you ended up with me, you deserved better. I feel like you weren't given a choice, though I know you would never admit that. I digress. All I ask is that you do not forget me. You don't have to feel guilt, or think of me all the time, I just hope you read Romeo and Juliet one day and guess which parts were my favourite. Or that if you're out on cold nights when the breeze chills your skin, you'll think of us. I also hope that is not too much to ask of you. I suppose, again, I will never know.

If I can take your position for a moment and mentor you; I have some advice I would like to offer. Be whatever you want to be, do what you want to do. Don't let anything or anyone stop you from being good. Your kindness, Corio, was not lost on me while I had the pleasure of knowing you. I've seen who you are, and I will never forget.

I must tell you posthumously that you are the closest thing to my own Romeo Montague I have been lucky enough to have in my life, but our story is different. You get to grow up, change, have a life, and fall in love. Please do. See the beauty in everything and do not let the cruelties of the world change the goodness in your soul.

"Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!"

With love and not nearly enough time,

Y/N

He couldn't resist unfolding the page in his hands and reading it. Every inch of the page was covered in your scrawled print, urgent from not wanting to keep Sejanus waiting for too long. You were still very much alive, but he was probably dead to you and he saw that in your eyes as you looked at him with nothing short of fear. He was supposed to be your Romeo, or at least you thought so when you wrote it. And he wanted that for you. He regrets so deeply that he took that perspective from you. It was a mistake- but maybe, if you won, you would see that for what it was and forgive him.

He wanted to crush up the note and throw it against the wall, tear it to shreds and light it on fire and burn away the fact he had ever met you, but he knew he didn't want to. It was all he would have left of you. He couldn't lose it, even if he hated himself for ruining what you could have had.

Instead, he folded it back up and put it on the shelf where his mother's compact once was before crawling into bed and crying until he finally passed out.

"You can explain it to her, Coryo. I know she will be reasonable." Tigris smiles sadly at him, helping him once again with his blazer following yet another back injury.

He hadn't said anything to trigger her sympathies this morning besides having puffy eyes in her presence. Though, the wall that separates their bedrooms is thin- it was likely that despite the muffling of his sheets, she had heard his cries. He had told her everything, he always did.

"Would you like me to come with you today? I can miss just one day of work, no harm will be done." His cousin offers. He wants to decline, her income is all they had, but if Coryo was being honest with himself, he needed someone in his corner.

"Okay." He agrees quietly and she smiles, patting the front of his uniform.

"I'll grab my things, can you wait a few moments?" She asks, already heading for her room.

"Of course." He nods. In another moment of self-honesty, he realizes he doesn't even want to go. But he had to be there. For you. If you had even survived the night.

When you decided there was enough daylight, you crawled back deeper into the vents. Seemingly you were safe there, if you had to guess it was almost noon and no one had bothered you. You were on your way to check on Jessup- that was a better use of your time than dwelling on what you witnessed last night and slipping deeper and deeper into a downward spiral.

You approach the grate in the vent you entered through, peeking in to see if he was still there. "Jessup?" You whisper, unable to see him. Worried when you get no response, you slide the cover off and hang your head out of it to look around. He was curled up against the wall across the room, and he looked distressed. Shaking, crying, skin ashen.

"Jessup?" You call toward him again, beginning to climb down to go check on him.

He's not responsive to you, not as you take a few hesitant steps closer. "Are you okay?"

His head snaps up to look at you. "Y/N?"

You smile a little, surprised he even remembered your name in his state. "Hi." You crouch down in front of him. "What do you need? Are you holding up okay?"

Again, no response.

"I'll get you some supplies." You whisper to him, knowing that if the microphones pick it up, Coryo would likely send you nothing when you emerge into the open area. He was very clear that you shouldn't share, but Jessup clearly needed help. He'd been down here for over a day without food or water, but now, you didn't know that you had anyone to help. You had Coryo and Sejanus, but now Sejanus hated you and Coryo was never who you thought he was. It had haunted you all night.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" You smile at Jessup reassuringly, standing and untying the scarf so you can get back up into the vents.

Coryo hadn't heard what you said to the boy, but when you reemerged from the vents after checking it was mostly clear, he knew what you were there for. It was decently safe, spare for Reaper who had collected and covered several bodies with a torn flag while you were gone. Making eye contact with him startles you, but you don't move. Neither does he. You give him a nod of understanding as he kneels next to the aboveground grave, which he returns. Lamina wasn't on her beam anymore, and that makes your heart clench. It took you a long time to get from one place to the next using the vents- anything could have happened in the time you weren't watching.

Now that you've established that you're safe, you look to the nearest camera with hopeful and tired eyes. Coryo knows you want to bring whatever he would send back down to Jessup.

He chews his lip, looking between you and the small screen in front of him. He shouldn't enable you to help another tribute, but it did look fruitless. Jessup was not well, not at all, and it would be a waste to even bother feeding him. At the same time, after what he had done last night, after what you witnessed, he would have to buy back your trust. Allowing you to help your friend is his only way to do that, at the moment. So he selects the water and sends it, followed by some bread.

You receive it, giving a weak, almost hesitant smile to the camera with the food and water tucked against your chest. "Thank you." He can only read your lips before you disappear again.

Climbing back out of the vent, this time with a water bottle and some bread in hand as you drop to the ground, you startle your friend. "Hey, Jessup." You say, raising your free hand to calm him. "I brought you something to eat."

You approach him carefully as he stares at you. You hold the items out to him, but he doesn't take them. "Do you want some help?" You offer, kneeling down in front of him. "Here," You tear off some of the bread and try to hand it to him. After not eating enough for so long, smaller pieces would probably be easier. "It may be a little dusty from the vent, but it's still good. You need to eat."

Then, without warning, he slaps the items out of your hand and shoves you back. "What did you do to it?!" He shouts as you fall back on your butt, quickly shuffling yourself back away from him.

"Nothing! Nothing, Jessup, shh, we gotta be quiet down here..." You try and calm him, still backing away.

"You're trying to kill me!" He yells, ignoring your pleas for him to be quiet, reaching for the now empty and broken water bottle that spilled out over the floor.

"I would never, I just want to help!" You try and assure him, standing up and backing away. Clearly, he doesn't want to talk as he's jumping at you, now with a weapon in hand.

You have to run. There's no time to get back into the vent, making a run for the door and throwing yourself through the hole at the bottom.

"Why would you do this?!" He shouts after you as you run down the halls of the tunnel, still trying to stay as quiet as possible through your heavy breathing. "What have you done?!"

"Lyssie- what is he doing?" Coryo asks his classmate next to him, thankful now that you are apparently such a fast runner.

"I- I don't know. He wouldn't betray her like this." She replies with a slight shake of her head, eyes glued to the screen.

"She's fast enough, but she can't get back in the vents while she's being chased." Coryo says, as if either of them could do anything, but he was as helpless as you were.

You slide to a halt in the long, rounded hallway when you see Coral round the corner in front of you. Jessup was sick, he wasn't fast, but you couldn't turn back. You were cornered, and there was nowhere to go but up. You look up, scanning the overhead vent system for a grate but see none. Turning quickly, you look along the ceiling toward Jessup as he makes his way toward you with the broken water bottle. You'd rather try your odds with him than Coral and the others.

Your eyes land on a grate just ahead of you as you hear footsteps and shouting closing in on you from both directions. With shaking hands you scramble to untie the scarf as you run back toward Jessup, throwing it back over the pipe and using all your strength to pull yourself up into the ceiling, hitting in the grate and pulling yourself inside. "Jessup, Jessup! Run! Hurry!" You try and urge him, but it's like he doesn't hear you, jumping to jab at you with the bottle. He misses, luckily, but Coral never does.

Coryo watches with bated breath while you struggle to pull yourself up, abandoning your friend to his fate. He cringes as he watches Jessup fall, the inflicted wounds being just hidden by Tanner's form and the buzzer goes off.

"Oh, and that's the end for Jessup as his district partner climbs into the ceiling!" Lucky's voice sounds distant to him. "Lysistrata, get out of here and Coriolanus, you may want to start packing your things as well."

He wouldn't budge. He's not packing a single thing until you're done taking your final breaths. Lyssie sighs and shakes her head, tears in her eyes as she pats Coryo's shoulder. "If this is it for her, I'm so sorry..." She apologizes before taking her leave.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you pull yourself almost fully into the vent. You don't make it smoothly, though, crying out in pain as you feel the prongs of Coral's trident plunging into your calf. Your blood drips down your leg and on top of the other tributes as you finally make your way all the way in. You don't have time to feel any pain as you quickly crawl away. They know where you are, she could stab up into the vent just below you and catch you again- you had to find a way up farther.

"Y/N! We know where you've been hiding now, you're not safe in there!" Coral calls after you, and you have to ignore it as you slide through the metal tube, feeling it get slick from the blood pooling underneath you with every movement.

You don't hear them following you, though, so when you finally make it to where you can climb up to the next level, you feel a lot safer. Your chest is heaving as you sit up on the edge of the drop-down to the tunnels, just given enough room in the T intersection of the vents to take a breath and look at your leg.

You hiss as you lift your leg, assessing the puncture wounds. They wouldn't be fatal if you stopped the bleeding. You exhale shakily, pressing down on the flesh with your palms, pain shooting up your leg and into your back. You don't have anything to use to help besides the scarf, but it was Coryo's. You don't want to ruin it.

You didn't have a choice. You grab the material that you had dragged along with you, wrapping it tightly around the skin. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry,.." You cry, knowing he can't see or hear you.

Coryo is already panicking. Just like Highbottom had said, you could be dead in there and he wouldn't know. The panic only escalates when the cameras follow Coral, Treech, Tanner, and Mizzen as they go back up to the main floor, and Treech and Tanner go for the two main vent entrances, all of them too focused on you to even notice or care that Reaper was sat in the same clearing.

You don't hear it for a few minutes. The bleeding in your leg had mostly stopped, soaking the silk material by the time you heard the familiar clang of shifting metal. Someone else was in the vents.

You look behind you, trying to discern which direction they were coming from, but it was nearly impossible to tell with the echo. You had to move, but you could be crawling right into your fate. Maybe you should just stay and wait and let it happen.

As the noises got closer from both sides, accompanied by coughing from the dust, you knew you couldn't just wait. You'd made it this far, and as far as you knew, no one else knew the vents nearly as well. That was an advantage you had sought from the very beginning, and now was the time to use it.

You gently lower yourself down to slide back the way you came, hitting the bottom level with a bang before ducking out of sight and around a corner. It couldn't have been Coral up there, she would be taunting you by now, but she wasn't. It was quiet until you heard whispers up from where you just were.

"There's blood on this side. She must have gone back down." You recognize Treech's voice when you hear it, and you hold your breath as you fiddle with the compact in your pocket. Stroking your thumb over the carved metal over and over again, trying to stay quiet. "Look, there's a trail going that way."

"Down we go, then." Tanner replies, making your heart stop. You couldn't fight them off, you knew that, and there was a trail of your own blood that would lead them straight to you. You couldn't hide.

You slowly pull the compact from your pocket, turning it over in your palm. You swore you wouldn't participate in the games. You wouldn't harm anyone. But maybe, if you 'accidentally' spilled its contents in the vent before you had to move on, they would stop following you.

Before you can think too much about it, you're holding your breath and opening the small clasp. It just looked like salt. Yeah. It's salt. You already believe it as you gently tip the container, making a thin line of the substance across the bottom of the vent. Salt is for protection. The salt will keep me safe.

You pocket the compact again and quietly crawl away.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @baybieruth , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore ,

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry! hopefully for part eleven it'll be business as usual!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[omresult]

United Soccer League Jagermeister Cup Sweepstakes - Enter To Win $1000 Prize Pack

Entering into the United Soccer League Jagermeister Cup Sweepstakes and chance to win $1000 Prize Pack. So, all United States residents enter the Sweepstakes before August 31st, 2024 to fix your chances to win. Sweepstakes Entry Page Sweepstakes Rules How To Enter : No purchase demanded. Making any kind of purchase or payment will not increase your winning chances. Enter online via…

[winecovered]

YAYYY 400 FOLLOWERS!!! I'm SUPER SUPER SUPER excited to host this, I really hope all of the prompts are fun! Rules and everything are under the cut ٩( 'ω' )و

I'd love for anyone that sees this to promote it, but no pressure! Thankyou!

Don't participate if you are on my DNI. Dont make any gross terms (r*dq*eer, muds, tr*nsid, and similar). Just use your better judgment!

Please tag me in each post! Using the designated hashtag is not necessary, and is only for our convenience ^__^

Like all events we hold, anyone who completes all four prompts will have a much heigher chance of winning! Don't worry too much if you can't! You may still be chosen!

ANYTHING can be made for this event! Graphics, NPTs, mogai, ALL OF IT!

September first : Something that you personally identify, relate, or otherwise associate with!

A character, term, colour, etc! 'Doesn't matter!

September second : A trait you have. Whether that be personality, disorder, physical, etc

A character thats the same, something you relate to that trait, something that symbolises it, and so on!

September third : A flower that you think best represents you.

This can include anything else, as long as the flower is included. IE. (character) graphics, with (flower) themes!

September fourth : All of the prompts have been about you so far, what if you make something about someone else?

Could be an attraction label, graphics of your friends favourite character, something related to us (wink wink), or anything else you can think of!

May also be interpreted as a collaboration :3c Get a friend to help you with it!!

As long as it's made with, for, or implied to include others, it counts! Bonus points if you tag them!

There will be three winners chosen by @dolliepiilled !! She is so amazing please go follow 🙏🙏🙏

One honourable mention will be chosen by each blog owner, so there will be three total! We'll also tell which one of us chose which mention (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Winners / Mentions will be announced 1-2 days after the event!

First place : A "theme pack" (one banner, one icon, a rentry graphic, a pinned post graphic, and dividers), Four flags to claim at any time.

Second place : Three icons (pride or not), One rentry graphic, Three flags.

Third place : Three flags, six recoloured pixels of your choice. Must provide a hex code / general colour scheme.

Honourable mentions : Two flags!

Prizes can be claimed in any order, at any time, whenever you want! Just make sure to clarify that you're claiming your prizes.

Prizes will be prioritised over EVERY other request, and will be completed as soon as possible!

Please DM me on discord (disrealities) if you won any graphics! They will NOT be posted to tumblr, but will require credit to use.

Graphics must follow to my blacklist, but can include "mutuals only" or "iffy" medias

Thank you so much for reading so far down! I hope you participate, and enjoy your creations!

[torpublishinggroup]

Enter for a chance to win a prize pack to celebrate the much-anticipated release of Swordcrossed by Freya Marske!

One grand prize winner will receive: • A hardcover copy of Swordcrossed • A 6” x 9” postcard art print featuring the cover art • A sword hairpin • A holographic sword sticker • A furoshiki hand-dyed cloth wrapping for your book • A Swordcrossed bookmark • A Swordcrossed sticker • The Glassport Gazette flyer

Fifty runners-up will receive: • A 6” x 9” postcard art print featuring the cover art

Offer open to residents of US and Canada only (excluding Quebec).

[vg-k]

✼　｡ﾟ･ ⌛ 𝒲hy did I do this event?

- Well, first of all I saw several blogs doing events which made me want to do one too, since I think it will be something fun. That's why I plan to use this event as a way to interact more with the blogs on this platform and get to know each other better.

✼　｡ﾟ･ ⌛ ℋow the event works

- You will have to make a moodboard with one of these icons. (You can decide the style, in addition to using any other resource, it will only be necessary to include one of these images).

- You are completely free to include a photo of an idol, whether from gg, bg or soloist

- examples: 🍮1 👩🏼2 🍦3

✼　｡ﾟ･ ⌛ ℋow to join

- Reblog this post and tag 3 friends or a blog that you like

- Comment joining in your language, if you speak Spanish comment "unirse", if you speak Portuguese comment "participar" and tell something about yourself (it could be a talent you have or something you like) (It is with the intention of getting to know each other better :)

- use the hashtag #vg-k  𝒯 ell me: event and tag me in the post. Having done all that you will be officially participating

✼　｡ﾟ･ ⌛ ℐmportant

- The more creative your moodboard is, the more chances you have to win -You can edit the images if you want, use dividers, gifs and everything you want

- The event will end on February 29, any entry to the event after that day will not be taken into account.

- The results of the event will be published in my account, a few days after the event ends.

- Winners please dm me, to claim prizes

✼　｡ﾟ･ ⌛ 𝒫 rizes

- All prizes will be personalized and made by me

- Winners will be able to decide if they want their prizes to be published or sent privately.

- 1st place: 100 reblogs on my reblog account @gojofetish + 3 custom wallpapers + 5 custom moodboards + 3 insta packs and 3 twitter packs + 3 headers + 2 packs of 5 locs + 3 packs of dividers in this style 🕊

- 2nd place: 80 reblogs on my reblog account @gojofetish + 2 custom wallpapers + 3 custom moodboards + 2 insta packs and 2 twitter packs + 2 headers + 1 pack of 5 locs + 2 pack of dividers in this style 🕊

- 3rd place: 60 reblogs on my reblog account @gojofetish + 1 custom wallpaper + 3 custom moodboards + 1 insta pack and 2 twitter pack + 2 headers + 1 pack of dividers in this style 🕊

- 5 special mentions (They would be the people who were in 4th, 5th, and 6th place) : 20 reblogs on my reblog account @gojofetish + 2 custom moodboards

✼　｡ﾟ･ ⌛ tags ! I tagged them because I like their blogs.

@baesol @jenfaery @bambicito @fuckici @yeritos @iluvrei @japnz @froopis @wonflirtz @wiotas @7hyein @fairymiese @umiena @jeonqham @jnthri @v6mpcat @misdior @tyunlouv @p-oisn @i04rei @yoonitos @gigittamic @y-vna @jeonzio @l-unitas @poeticore @sugarino @tookio @y-unjis @alfaire @deaimachi @i-kyujin @menhpy @h-aewo @jkghost @florietas @dollijongs @s-heon @koosuvi @i6gyu @muruffin @wonysela @gaecoo @eun-luv @giraisol @galavande @v6que @huesudos @flwzai @yeossemble

Thank you from now on for participating.

[whileiamdying]

All the Films in Competition at Cannes, Ranked from Best to Worst

The twenty-two films that premièred in the 2024 festival’s main program offered much to savor and revile.

By Justin Chang May 26, 2024

The seventy-seventh annual Cannes Film Festival came to a startling and joyous conclusion on Saturday night, when the competition jury, chaired by Greta Gerwig, awarded the Palme d’Or, the festival’s highest honor, to “Anora,” a funny, harrowing, and finally quite moving portrait of a sex worker’s madcap New York misadventures. It was startling because the movie, though one of the best-received in the competition, had not been widely tipped for the top prize, which seldom goes to a U.S. film; with “Anora,” Sean Baker becomes the first American director to win the Palme since Terrence Malick did, for “The Tree of Life” (2011), thirteen years ago. And it was joyous not only because the award was bestowed on a worthy and remarkable film but because Baker used the occasion to deliver the best, most eloquent and impassioned acceptance speech I’ve ever heard a Palme winner give.

Reading from prepared remarks, Baker singled out two other filmmakers in the competition, Francis Ford Coppola and David Cronenberg, as among his personal heroes. He dedicated the award to sex workers everywhere, a fitting tribute from a filmmaker who has put their lives front and center, with drama, humor, and empathy, in movies like “Starlet” (2012), “Tangerine” (2015), and “Red Rocket” (2021). He tossed some exquisite shade in the direction of the “tech companies” behind the so-called streaming revolution—including, presumably, Netflix, which came away as one of the night’s big winners; its major acquisition of the festival, Jacques Audiard’s musical “Emilia Pérez,” won two prizes. And, in a moment that drew rapturous applause, Baker delivered a plea on behalf of theatrical films, declaring, “The future of cinema is where it started: in a movie theatre.”

I was fortunate to see all twenty-two films in the Cannes competition on the big screen, projected under superior conditions in houses packed with fellow movie lovers. It’s my hope that, when these movies are released in the U.S., as the great majority of them likely will be, you will seize the chance to see them on the big screen as well—even “Emilia Pérez,” which Netflix may not keep in theatres for long, but whose bold dramatic and stylistic risks have the best chance of winning you over if they have your undivided, wide-awake attention.

I have ranked the movies in order of preference, from best to worst. Here they are:

1. “Caught by the Tides”

Jia Zhangke, a Cannes competition veteran, has long been the cinema’s preëminent chronicler of modern China (“Mountains May Depart,” “Ash Is Purest White”), mapping its social, cultural, and geographical complexities with great formal acumen, and also with the longtime collaboration of his wife, the superb actress Zhao Tao. Jia’s latest work, drawing on an archive of footage shot in the course of roughly two decades, unfurls a story in fragments, about a woman (Zhao) and a man (Li Zhubin) who fall in love, bitterly separate, and have a melancholy reunion years later. It’s an achievement by turns fleeting and monumental: a series of interlocking time capsules, a wrenching feat of self-reflection, and a stealth musical, in which Zhao dances and dances, standing in for millions who have learned to sway and bend to history’s tumultuous beat.

2. “All We Imagine as Light”

As the first Indian feature invited to compete at Cannes in nearly three decades, Payal Kapadia’s narrative début (after her 2021 documentary, “A Night of Knowing Nothing”) would be notable enough; that the movie is so delicately felt and sensuously textured is cause for outright celebration. Winner of the festival’s Grand Prix, or second place, it tells the story of two roommates, Prabha (Kani Kusruti) and Anu (Divya Prabha), who work as nurses at a Mumbai hospital. It teases out their personal circumstances—Prabha’s estrangement from her unseen husband, Anu’s frowned-upon romance with a young Muslim man (Hridhu Haroon)—with a quiet truthfulness that, like the glittering lights of the city, lingers expansively in the memory. (A forthcoming Sideshow/Janus Films release.)

3. “Grand Tour”

The Portuguese director Miguel Gomes (“Tabu,” “Arabian Nights”) delivered some of the most virtuosic filmmaking in the competition—as the jury recognized by giving him the Best Director prize—with this characteristically yet extraordinarily playful colonial-era travelogue. Shifting between color and black-and-white, set in 1917 but full of fourth-wall-breaking anachronisms, the movie tells a story of sorts about a roving British diplomat (Gonçalo Waddington) and a fiancée (Crista Alfaiate) he’s in no hurry to marry. But its true fascination lies in the humid atmosphere and wanderlust-inspiring splendor of its East and Southeast Asian locations, ranging from Singapore and Bangkok to Shanghai and Rangoon. It’s a movie to get lost in.

4. “The Seed of the Sacred Fig”

It’s impossible to absorb this blistering domestic drama without thinking of its dissident director, Mohammad Rasoulof, who recently fled Iran after being sentenced to prison and a flogging. (His appearance at his film’s première made for one of the most emotional moments in recent Cannes memory.) Shot entirely in secret, the story follows a Tehran-based husband (Missagh Zareh) and wife (Soheila Golestani) who are increasingly at war with their progressive-minded young-adult daughters (Mahsa Rostami, Setareh Maleki) during nationwide political protests led by women. The result is a thriller of propulsive skill and blunt emotional force, marrying the muscularity of an action film to the psychological intensity of a chamber drama. (A forthcoming Neon release.)

5. “Anora”

The director Sean Baker is near the height of his storytelling powers with this dazzling (and now Palme d’Or-winning) portrait of a Manhattan strip-club dancer (a revelatory Mikey Madison) who impulsively marries the ultra-spoiled son (Mark Eydelshteyn) of a Russian oligarch. Much comic chaos ensues, some of it pushed past the brink of plausibility, but Baker’s multifaceted love for his characters proves infectious and sustaining, as does his belief that acts of unexpected kindness can redeem even the darkest nights of the soul. (A forthcoming Neon release.)

6. “The Shrouds”

Early on in this elegantly sombre yet mordantly funny new movie, which stars Vincent Cassel, Diane Kruger, and Guy Pearce, the director David Cronenberg, a master of cerebral horror, unveils his latest invention: a technologically advanced burial shroud that allows people to watch a loved one’s body decomposing in the grave. So begins a drolly fluid inspection of classic Cronenberg themes—the deterioration of the flesh, the instability of the image, the paranoia-inducing incursions of technology into every aspect of life—but imbued with a nakedly personal dimension that the director has noted in interviews; the story was inspired by his wife’s death, in 2017, from cancer.

7. “Megalopolis”

In this legendarily long-gestating passion project, which I’ve written about at length, Francis Ford Coppola posits that our fragile, battered civilization is headed the way of the Roman Empire. The grimness of that prospect is unsurprising from a director accustomed to peering deep into the heart of American darkness (the “Godfather” movies, “The Conversation,” “Apocalypse Now”). For all that, the filmmaking here glows with a particularly hard-won optimism, even a welcome sense of play—borne out by an ensemble of actors, including Adam Driver, Giancarlo Esposito, and especially Aubrey Plaza, who fully embrace Coppola’s rhetorical and conceptual flights of fancy.

8. “The Substance”

Sympathetic or sadistic? Feminist or misogynist? Coralie Fargeat’s body-horror bonanza, which won the festival’s award for Best Screenplay, has been one of the competition’s more polarizing hits, which is unsurprising; divisiveness should be expected from a story about an aging actress and TV fitness guru who, desperate to regain her youthful bod of yesteryear, effectively splits herself in two. Whether the outlandish premise (think “The Picture of Dorian Gray” by way of “Death Becomes Her”) and its blood-gushing fallout withstand intellectual scrutiny, there’s no doubting the ferocity of the two leads, Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, or Fargeat’s sheer filmmaking verve as she pushes her ideas to their sanguinary conclusions.

9. “Motel Destino”

Just a year after the Brazilian director Karim Aïnouz appeared in competition with a surprisingly stiff-corseted English period drama, “Firebrand,” it was bracing to watch him rebound with the competition’s most sexually uninhibited and flagrantly horny title; corsets don’t apply here, and even underwear proves blissfully optional. Set at a seedy roadside motel where the clientele never stops moaning, it’s a feverishly shambling erotic thriller starring three very game actors (Iago Xavier, Nataly Rocha, and Fábio Assunção) in a romantic triangle that plays like James M. Cain with sex toys—“The Postman Always Cock Rings Twice,” as it were.

10. “Emilia Pérez”

A trans-empowerment musical set against the backdrop of Mexico’s drug cartels might sound like a dubious proposition on paper, and, for the many detractors of this genre-melding big swing from the French director Jacques Audiard (“A Prophet,” “The Sisters Brothers”), what actually made it onto the screen was no better. But I was disarmed from the start by Audiard’s quasi-Almodóvarian vibes, his touchingly imperfect embrace of song-and-dance stylization, and, most of all, his three leads: the remarkable discovery Karla Sofía Gascón, a scene-stealing Selena Gomez, and a never-better Zoe Saldaña. All three (along with Adriana Paz) were recognized with the festival’s Best Actress prize, awarded collectively to the movie’s ensemble of actresses; Audiard also won the Jury Prize. (A forthcoming Netflix release.)

11. “Oh, Canada”

After a tense trilogy of dramas about male redemption through violence (“First Reformed,” “The Card Counter,” “Master Gardener”), the writer and director Paul Schrader has taken a gentler turn with an adaptation of “Foregone,” a 2021 novel by the late Russell Banks. (It’s his second Banks adaptation, after the 1997 drama “Affliction.”) In exploring the fragmented consciousness of an aging documentary filmmaker (played at different ages by Richard Gere and Jacob Elordi), Schrader bravely forsakes the narrative fastidiousness of his recent work and takes on grand themes of memory, mortality, and artistic self-reckoning, to formally ragged but sincerely moving effect.

12. “The Girl with the Needle”

This stark and terrifying black-and-white drama from the Swedish-born, Polish-based director Magnus von Horn (“Sweat”) was perhaps the competition’s bleakest entry. Set in Copenhagen immediately after the First World War, it pins us so mercilessly to the hard-bitten perspective of Karoline (an excellent Vic Carmen Sonne), a factory seamstress who becomes pregnant out of wedlock, that we scarcely notice her story shifting in a different, more sinister direction. It’s a bitterly hard-to-stomach brew of a movie, at once hideous and beautifully made, with a chilling supporting turn by Trine Dyrholm as a friend whose interventions turn out to be anything but benign.

13. “Three Kilometres to the End of the World”

The setting of this well-observed but emotionally opaque drama, from the Romanian actor turned director Emanuel Pârvu, is a small rural village where a closeted teen-age boy, Adi (Ciprian Chiujdea), is brutally beaten after being caught in an intimate moment with a male traveller. Pârvu teases out the legal, psychological, and moral fallout with the pitch-perfect performances and laserlike formal focus that have become hallmarks of new Romanian cinema. But, though the movie is persuasive enough as an indictment of small-town religious fundamentalism and homophobia, it proves curiously incurious about Adi’s perspective, to the detriment of its own human pulse.

14. “Kinds of Kindness”

After his Oscar-winning period romps “The Favourite” (2018) and “Poor Things” (2023), the Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos scales back—but goes long—with a sprawling, increasingly tedious compendium of comic cruelty. My favorite of the film’s three disconnected stories, all featuring the same actors, is the one where Jesse Plemons (the ensemble M.V.P., as the jury recognized with its Best Actor award) plays Willem Dafoe’s Manchurian candidate; my least favorite is the one where Emma Stone joins a sweat-worshipping sex cult. The one where Stone slices off her finger and cooks it for Plemons falls—much like the movie in Lanthimos’s over-all œuvre—somewhere in the middle. (A Searchlight Pictures release, opening June 21st in theatres.)

15. “Bird”

My admiration for the English filmmaker Andrea Arnold (“American Honey”) is such that I’m eager to revisit her latest rough-and-tumble coming-of-age story and find that I undervalued it. Arnold is certainly skilled at integrating recognizable actors, which in this case includes Barry Keoghan and Franz Rogowski, into her grottily realist frames, and she has an appealing lead performer in Nykiya Adams, as a twelve-year-old girl who overcomes persistent abuse and neglect. But the story may lose you—as it lost me—with a magical-realist turn that magnifies, rather than minimizes, the tortured-animal symbolism that has often dogged Arnold’s work.

16. “Beating Hearts”

An exchange of insults at a high-school bus stop provides a saucy meet-cute for a good girl (Mallory Wanecque) and a ne’er-do-well boy (Malik Frikah); so begins a raucous and endearing love story for the ages, in which the director Gilles Lellouche, with outsized glee and little discipline, merrily appropriates the conventions of classic Hollywood musicals and gangster flicks. The result is much too long at nearly three hours—the story spans several years, with Adèle Exarchopoulos and François Civil playing older versions of the two leads—but I can’t say I didn’t warm to its rambunctious cornball charm.

17. “Limonov: The Ballad”

Why make a film about Eduard Limonov, the globe-trotting Russian dissident poet and punk provocateur reviled for his pro-fascist sympathies? The filmmaker Kirill Serebrennikov never musters a satisfying answer in this muddled English-language bio-pic, despite an energetically uninhibited central performance by Ben Whishaw and a cheeky panoply of filmmaking techniques—jittery camerawork, lengthy tracking shots—meant to catch us up in the épater-la-bourgeoisie exuberance of Limonov’s revolt. Considering his earlier work, I prefer the rebel-youth vibes of “Leto” (2018) and the dazzling cinematic assaults of “Petrov’s Flu” (2021), both of which also screened in competition here.

18. “Parthenope”

Nearly every new picture from the Italian auteur Paolo Sorrentino could be reasonably called “The Great Beauty,” the title of his gorgeous 2013 cinematic tour of Rome. (It left that year’s Cannes empty-handed, but won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film.) His latest work remains most intriguing for its ambivalent but still sensually overpowering vision of the director’s home town, Naples, from which springs a modern-day goddess, named after Parthenope, a Siren from Greek mythology. She’s played by Celeste Dalla Porta, a great beauty indeed and an empathetic screen presence, though only fitfully does her character seem worthy of this movie’s epic enshrinement.

19. “Wild Diamond”

Another disquisition on beauty and its discontents, this time from the débuting French writer and director Agathe Riedinger. She hurls us the life and busy social-media feed of a nineteen-year-old, Liane (a terrific Malou Khebizi), who has nipped, tucked, and tailored every part of herself to realize her dream of being selected for a hot new reality-TV series. Part influencer-culture cautionary tale, part bad-girl Cinderella story, the movie glancingly suggests the soul-rotting effects of beauty worship, but it falls victim to the trap that Liane is trying to avoid: in a sea of worthy candidates, it doesn’t especially stand out.

20. “The Apprentice”

Donald Trump’s attorneys have threatened legal action to block the release of this drama about his early rise to fame and wealth under the mentorship of the attorney Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong). It speaks to the useless proficiency of Ali Abbasi’s movie that the prospect of such censorship provokes more indifference than outrage. Shot to evoke cruddy nineteen-eighties VHS playback, the movie is well acted by Strong, Maria Bakalova as Ivana Trump, and an increasingly makeup-buried Sebastian Stan as Trump himself, depicted from the start as a sack of shit that gets progressively shittier. It’s not dismissible, but it’s hardly the stuff of revelation, either.

21. “Marcello Mio”

In this trifling meta-comedy from the French filmmaker Christophe Honoré (previously in the 2018 Cannes competition with the lovely “Sorry Angel”), the actress Chiara Mastroianni embarks on a strainedly whimsical personal odyssey to examine the legacy of her late father, the legendary Italian actor Marcello Mastroianni, and her own conflicted place therein. To that end, she spends much of this overstretched movie in “8½” and “La Dolce Vita” black-suited drag as she navigates a roundelay of industry in-jokes; among the French cinema luminaries making appearances are Fabrice Luchini, Nicole Garcia, and, most welcome, Chiara’s mother, Catherine Deneuve.

22. “The Most Precious of Cargoes”

The French director Michel Hazanavicius continues his uneven post-“The Artist” run with this animated Second World War fable, adapted from a 2019 novel by Jean-Claude Grumberg (and narrated by the late Jean-Louis Trintignant). It has an affecting opening stretch, in which a baby girl, thrown by her desperate father from an Auschwitz-bound train, is rescued and raised in secret by a woodcutter’s kindhearted wife. But when the child’s provenance is discovered, stoking local antisemitism, the movie becomes a bathetic wallow in Holocaust imagery, drowned in an Alexandre Desplat score whose every surge turned my heart increasingly to stone. ♦

[hawkinsmafia]

𝔼𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕟: 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝔸𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕖𝕥

day 04 : Eddie

featuring Eddie Munson x reader (no assumed gender)

rating: general

cw: two minor, non-graphic mentions of sex; one brief mention of recreational marijuana use

wc: 1.6k

an: this is my first time doing one of these, and I was reminded of filling out those massively long surveys your friends would all email around in the 90s. I miss those. this was written for @corrodedcoffinfest!

𝔸𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤 :: How does Eddie spend free time with his partner?

⟢ Eddie is the king of parallel play. Just being in the same room is enough to please him, even if you’re both absorbed in different activities. You’re lounging on the couch with a book while Eddie is noodling around with his guitar, or he’s at the table working on his campaign notes while you’re writing up a grocery list.

𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕪 :: What does Eddie admire about his partner?

⟢ I won’t lie, one of his criteria in a partner is how well you fit into his rockstar aesthetic. If you look like you’re ready to pose beside him on the cover of Rolling Stone, that’s a huge boon.

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥 :: How does Eddie help his partner when they’re struggling?

⟢ Eddie’s love language is acts of service, so when you’re having a rough time, he’s insisting you take the night off and let him make dinner—and it’s probably just boxed macaroni and cheese and maybe a can of green beans if he thinks about it, but he makes it with so much love. Then afterward, if you’re amenable, he’d break out his private stash and pack a bowl for you.

𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 :: What is Eddie’s first date with his partner like?

⟢ A disaster. He had big ideas of impressing you, but it was one of those nights where nothing went as he planned. He wanted to take you to an open mic night and wow you with his musical prowess, but the performance list was already full when you arrived. At a loss for a last-minute substitution, you wound up going to the Hawkins High carnival, where he was harassed by the popular crowd, he couldn’t manage to win a single game to get you a prize, and he nearly choked to death on his corn dog (then coughed so hard he almost puked). To top it all off, he was pulled over by a cop while driving you home, and the familiarity the cop had with Eddie clearly announced that he had regular run-ins with them. And to this day, Eddie has absolutely no idea why you invited him inside when he finally got you home, or asked to see him again tomorrow for a do-over.

𝔼𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕝 :: Is Eddie more dominant or submissive in his relationship?

⟢ Eddie is a very easy switch. He can and will take either role depending on his mood and yours, and can switch from one to the other with a moment’s notice.

𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 :: What is it like when Eddie and his partner argue?

⟢ Honestly, Eddie doesn’t argue with you very often. He struggles with feelings of inadequacy and fears the day you’ll wake up and realize he’s a worthless, white trash loser, and he’s afraid of driving you to that realization early. Much more common between you are the more playful, low stakes disagreements, like which dresser drawer to put socks and underwear in (the top one, obviously) or whether peanut butter belongs in the fridge or not (no). These ‘arguments’ are usually settled with a dice roll.

𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖 :: Does Eddie acknowledge how much his partner does for him?

⟢ Oh god, yes. See above for those feelings of inadequacy, he is grateful as hell that you gave a freak a chance and somehow found him worthwhile, at least for now.

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕪 :: Does Eddie keep secrets from his partner or does he share everything?

⟢ Eddie couldn’t keep anything from you to save his life. He tells you everything, and everyone knows that if they tell Eddie something, they’re really telling the both of you because he’ll tell you immediately.

𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 :: Has Eddie’s partner inspired him to grow or change in any way?

⟢ Your presence in his life has made him more focused and given him more drive. His rockstar dreams were just a farfetched fantasy that he toyed with before, daydreams of a better life, but now with you in the picture, he craves that success to be more than make-believe.

𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕪 :: How does Eddie handle jealousy in his relationship?

⟢ Eddie doesn’t fall victim to jealousy all that often. Those occasions when he does feel it flare up, though, it’s because he saw someone else flirting with you, and his response is to go over there and slip an arm around you, maybe give you a slightly-too-deep kiss, and remind the other person that you’re already spoken for.

𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤 :: Is Eddie a good kisser?

⟢ He’s not too bad! He doesn’t have a whole lot of experience when you first get together—there haven’t been many people in Hawkins willing to take a chance on a Munson—but he does have some natural talent, and he’s a quick learner with practice.

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 :: How does Eddie confess his love to his partner?

⟢ In song. He stresses out for a while over how to get to the next level with you, and he finally decides that since music is his forte, he’ll write you a song and perform it for you.

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕘𝕖 :: Would Eddie want to marry his partner?

⟢ Eddie would be one of those guys who proposes to his partner and then stalls in the engaged phase for years, putting off the actual marriage. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you (he does!), but he’s worried (perhaps subconsciously) about tying himself to you and becoming a weight that holds you back, ruining your life by making you a Munson.

ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 :: What does Eddie call his partner?

⟢ Princess, sweetheart, baby, babe. If he’s in a goofy mood, he’ll call you ‘my liege’ (often with a deep bow and a thick accent).

𝕆𝕟 ℂ𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕕 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖 :: What is Eddie like when he’s in love?

⟢ Oh god, I hate to say this, but I think he’s that guy who kind of slowly starts drifting away from his friends in favor of spending time with his partner instead, at least for a while, and it causes tension between you and them. When he starts cancelling Hellfire at the last minute and not showing up to band rehearsal, the others start getting angry with him.

ℙ𝔻𝔸 :: Does Eddie openly share affection with his partner, or is he more private?

⟢ This man would fuck you in the hallway at school if you asked him to. Once you’ve made it clear that you aren’t afraid of everyone knowing you’re with him, he can be downright obnoxious with his affection. You’re the couple making out in the hall during class change, causing a traffic jam. You’re the couple who gets caught in closets and bathrooms at every party. More than once, Wayne has had to clear his throat rather loudly to remind Eddie that he’s still in the room.

ℚ𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕜 :: What’s a random action Eddie performs for his partner?

⟢ He learns your routine and makes a point to ask if you want a ride to work today before you even say anything, or he’s already waiting for you outside your classes so he can walk with you to your next one.

ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 :: How romantic is Eddie?

⟢ Very romantic. He’s making you new mix tapes weekly. Whenever he stops for gas, he always comes back to the van with your favorite snack without being asked. (He may have taken the five-finger discount, but it’s the thought that counts!) He holds doors open for you with a sweeping bow. He makes a big production of giving you a pin off his battle vest or one of his rings.

𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 :: How does Eddie help his partner achieve their goals?

⟢ You have never heard a pep talk until Eddie gives you one. He is a stalwart and unwavering pillar of support, and no one believes in you as much as Eddie believes in you.

𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕝𝕝 :: Does Eddie like to experiment and try new things, or does he prefer familiarity?

⟢ Eddie is always down to try something new, especially if it’s something you’re interested in. Whether it’s a new movie in a genre he doesn’t gravitate toward, or heading into the city to try a new restaurant cuisine that’s caught your attention, or a new bedroom activity, Eddie’s down for it.

𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How well does Eddie know his partner?

⟢ Pretty damn well. Sometimes you might think he’s not listening while you’re talking, but even when he looks distracted, he never misses a word. He knows your favorite color, the foods you hate, your class or work schedule, the kind of future you daydream about. If you have a menstrual cycle, he doesn’t have it memorized but he can always tell immediately when your uterus is making problems.

𝕍𝕒𝕝𝕦𝕖 :: How important is Eddie’s relationship to him?

⟢ It’s literally the single most important thing in Eddie’s life. It’s the greatest thing he’s ever had, and he knows he doesn’t deserve anything this good. He loves you more than his guitar, which speaks volumes on its own.

𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕕 :: A random fluffy headcanon.

⟢ The first year you were together, Eddie very nearly forgot your birthday. It wasn’t until a quarter to midnight that he remembered, and he tore out of the trailer like a man on fire to get over to your place before midnight, nothing but apologies and affection and promises to make it up to you this weekend. Since then, he goes out of his way to make a big deal of your birthday every year.

𝕏𝕆𝕏𝕆 :: Does Eddie like to be affectionate with his partner?

⟢ Oh yes. Given a choice, Eddie would be attached to your hip 24/7. He loves to hold your hand, put an arm around you, give you little kisses, cuddle up to you. If acts of service is his primary love language, physical touch is a close second.

𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How does Eddie cope when he’s missing his partner?

⟢ If at all possible, the quickest cure is to just go see you. Eddie’s liable to show up at your place at any hour of the day or night, looking a little lost and forlorn, just wanting to see you. If you’re unreachable like that, oh, how this boy pines for you. He’s a mopey, moody, melancholy mess. Wayne has to tell him to go outside and get some sunlight before he makes the mold in the trailer flourish with that storm cloud over his head.

ℤ𝕖𝕒𝕝 :: To what lengths would Eddie go for his relationship?

⟢ Eddie would brave the Upside Down alone to preserve your relationship. He would bitch and moan the entire way, but he would do it if it meant keeping you.

[kareblog]

Worldwar - Silver

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[brodygold]

The Chess Tournament

Jason fidgeted nervously as he approached his assigned table. At 5'4", pudgy, and more comfortable in front of a computer screen, he was stepping into unfamiliar territory: his first in-person chess tournament. Online, Jason had racked up an impressive 1800 rating, but this was different—tangible, immediate, with no second chances in a single-elimination bracket.

Sitting at the table across from him was, without a doubt, one of the most athletic guys Jason had ever seen. This wasn’t the image of a typical chess player; the man was lean, muscular, and radiated charisma. He looked like he had just come from a photoshoot rather than a chess tournament, wearing a golden soccer jersey with the number 11 emblazoned on it. He wasn't;t attracted to guys, but even he could admit the guy was attractive. Jason couldn't help but think this guy had wandered into the wrong competition. No way a jock like him could hold his own here.

“Sup, man. Name’s Brody.” The athlete flashed a friendly smile, extending his hand.

“Jason,” he replied, shaking it, the disparity between their grips palpable. "Shall we get started?"

"Sure thing, bro. Looks like you're up first," Brody said, leaning back with a relaxed air.

Jason moved a pawn forward, confident he could end this quickly. The four-move checkmate was a tried and true tactic against beginners. Brody was probably thinking about his next soccer practice, not chess strategy.

But to Jason’s surprise, Brody blocked the move with precision. Maybe it was luck. Or maybe not. As the game unfolded, Jason realized this wasn’t going to be an easy win.

Jason focused intently on the board, calculating his next moves. So absorbed was he in the game, he didn’t notice the subtle changes creeping over his body. His posture straightened as his body stretched upward to 6 feet, muscle replacing fat. His clothes tightened, then shifted to a snug athletic fit, as if sculpted for his new, lean physique. Brown hair lightened into a sun-kissed blonde, cropped into a sporty, effortless cut. His transformation was seamless, unnoticed.

The mental changes followed. Jason’s sharp, calculating mind dulled, as if a fog had rolled in. Why was he thinking so hard? His thoughts drifted, losing their focus on chess strategy. Instead, his mind filled with something simpler, something primal: soccer, the gym, hanging with his bros, and—strangely—admiring his teammates' physiques. His eyes glossed over the board. Who needed this game when there were other, more important things, like team camaraderie and post-practice showers?

“Checkmate,” Brody announced casually, snapping Jason out of his reverie. The horsey and the pointy piece had him trapped.

“Dang, GG bro!” Jason grinned, a playful laugh escaping his lips. “Glad I got to play you, bro!”

Brody’s smile was unwavering, though there was a depth to it Jason couldn’t quite grasp. “Me too, bro. See you at practice later?”

Jason didn’t hesitate. “Hell yeah, bro! Good luck, man.”

Brody's grin widened. "Oh, don't worry. I've got this."

As Jason left the tournament, he felt an unfamiliar surge of pride—not for the chess game, but for being part of something bigger. The Golden Army was his family now, his purpose. And deep down, he already knew a few others who would love to join.

Back at the venue a few hours later, Brody smirked as he hoisted the trophy. The Golden Army had swept yet another event, but that wasn’t the true victory. Securing new members like Jason? That was the real prize. He shot off a message to Captain Richard: Another successful recruitment. Practice is gonna get packed, Cap. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure of it.