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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months

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FEM!READER WITH AN ABUSIVE/TOXIC EX (ft. aaron taylor johnson characters)

warnings: mentions of being in a toxic/emotionally and physically abusive relationship with someone, mentions of violence, sexual themes

includes - in said order

~ James Potter - harry potter marauder's era (yes ik it's technically a fancast but 🥺 he's my baby)

~ Tangerine - bullet train

~ Dave Lizewski - kick-ass

~ Count Alexei Vronksy - anna karenina 2012

~ Tom Ryder - the fall guy

~ @trollsareadorable hope you like this lovie! 🫶 ~

• James is very intuitive. It doesn't seem like he is, but he is. He's just a really caring person so he notices things that others don't.

• If you were friends first, he would have definitely already known that your ex was toxic/abusive and would have hated his guts. "You deserve better than him," or "he doesn't treat you like a gentleman should," type of conversations.

• If you weren't friends first and you were flirting after your break-up, he wouldn't initially think your shyness or your nerves were because anything bad had happened. Instead, he'd find it cute and would be super patient with you and be down to take things at your pace.

• James is a gentleman. His mom raised him right (Euphemia is a queen!) and so the idea of hurting a woman, especially one you're supposed to love, is unthinkable.

• So when you tell him about your ex, about his emotional/physical abuse, he'd be livid.

• James is extra careful with you after that, to the point where you have to tell him you're fine so he'll stop treating you like you're made of glass.

• When you run into your ex one night at a party, James notices you're acting strangely. "Love, are you alright? You look like you're gonna be sick," he'll say as he rubs small circles on your back.

• When you don't answer, he'll ask again. If you snap at him, he'll be hurt but he'll know something is wrong instantly.

• "You can tell me, dove. What has happened?"

• At the first sight of your tears, James's heart breaks and he ends up ushering you into a bathroom and soothingly caresses your cheeks with his thumb. When you tell him you saw your ex, it takes everything in him not to leave you and beat his sorry ass. He could—he has the build for it (okay Quidditch Captain 😵‍💫)

• Instead, he stays by your side and hugs you as you cry into his shirt.

• You're embarrassed for making a mess and crying like a baby but James isn't having it. "Don't be sorry, lovely. It's okay to have feelings and to show them," he'll reassure you. Maybe your ex didn't like when you cried so you tried to hide it from him but James knows you better.

• "C'mon, let's continue having some fun so you can forget about that bloody wanker," he'd kiss your forehead and take your hand, making sure you're next to him all evening. You've never felt happier and safer and your ex is completely forgotten.

• Tangerine has a temper. We all know this—and we all know he also has a potty mouth.

• Maybe you were coworkers first and he noticed how sensitive you were when he would raise his voice, or use some curse-words, but he starts to notice something is really wrong when you're visibly afraid to talk to guys at bars, even if it's just for fun.

• So, he would talk to you about it in private when he has the chance. "Hey, darlin', are ya okay? 'Cause you don't seem okay, y'know that guy at the bar wasn't tryin' to hurt ya, he just wanted to flirt. Did he make ya uncofmrotable," Tangerine's voice would be softer than usual.

• You open up to him, touched he cared enough to ask, and the moment he hears about your ex, he sees red. Tangerine is many things but he would never emotionally hurt or lay a hand on someone he loved ever.

• He looks at you with wide eyes, imagining your fearful expression at the hands of your ex, and his blood boils even more.

• He makes it his mission to help you feel safer around men—around him—and eventually, he falls in love with you and you fall in love with him. It takes you some time to fully trust him, but Tangerine eventually earns your trust because he shows you genuine love.

• He refrains from yelling around you and he doesn't use curse words that would remind you of the disgusting things your ex would call you. He adjusts.

• He's adaptable 😏🍊

• If you see your ex at the bar while you're refilling your drink one evening, you come back to Tangerine and you're friends and you're really quiet. More quiet than usual.

• In the beginning Tangerine is oblivious because he's joking with his friends. However, when you grasp his arm, watching your ex move across the room, he knows something is wrong. He sees where you're looking and turns you towards him gentle, one hand cupped under your chin.

• "Where'ya lookin', luv?" he'd ask and frown when he sees your glossy eyes.

• Tangerine hates when you cry—not because he's mad at you but instead because he hates knowing you're sad enough to cry. It makes him feel helpless, like he'd failed you.

• When you lean into him for comfort and tell him you saw your ex, he frowns and his eyes snap up to find your ex in the crowd. You tell him you're okay and you just want to go home, but Tangerine isn't having it.

• "That bastard hurt you. He doesn't get to get away with it," Tangerine hisses and kisses your forehead, "I'm just gonna go have a little chat with him."

• By little chat he means punching your ex so hard he breaks his nose—which leads to you, Tangerine, and your friends being kicked out of the bar.

• You're secretly very pleased to see your ex in pain and you feel all warm and fuzzy inside knowing Tangerine is willing to protect you like that. You aren't mad at him, especially when he cuddles you back at your shared apartment.

• Dave is shy just like you, so in the beginning of your relationship he doesn't take your shyness as something bad. He likes that you're nervous, because he's also nervous.

• However, he also picks up on cues that something is really wrong—like when you over apologize, or do anything in your power to please him when he's being snappy/in a bad mood.

• Alarm bells ring in Dave's head and he asks you why you feel the need to constantly apologize or make yourself small when you think he wants it.

• Because he could never want that.

• When you tell him, he doesn't know how to react. His blue eyes go wide and his mouth opens. He feels angry and sad and confused all in one overwhelming ball of emotion.

• Who would dare hurt someone as kind and lovely as you? Dave simply doesn't understand.

• "Baby, I'm so sorry that happened to you," he whispers and holds your hand, squeezing, "I promise you I will never ever do anything like that to you. Ever, you hear me? You don't have to walk on eggshells around me."

• If you saw your ex at a party?! Dave would know immediately because you would find him and tell him. You trust him more than anyone and would need him comfort instantly.

• "Shh, you're okay, baby. We can leave if you want, yeah?" he'd say and kiss your cheek, holding your closer to him and ignoring his friends wanting him to stay.

• You see, Dave doesn't confront your ex. Dave isn't a confrontational person. Plus, he'd much rather make sure you're okay than go fight someone. He doesn't want you to see him be violent because it's such a contrast to his usual sweet self.

• But Kick-Ass? Kick-Ass can teach your ex a lesson without any questions or hesitation (he'll def ask Mindy for help bc she'd also be livid that someone hurt you).

• So that's what happens.

• Alexei is a very composed person. He's doesn't often show his anger and he never screams at you. Perhaps you were friend's first and then eventually he asked you to marry him—and that's when he began to see the signs that someone had been very ungentlemanly with you.

• You flinch when you accidentally break his crockery and it makes your cry—apologizing more than necessary which to Alexei isn't normal.

• He's wealthy after all! He can easily afford a new set and something like this shouldn't cause you any distress.

• Then, he sees how you cling to him during social events and always reassures him that when you speak to other men, you have no intention of being unfaithful and they're just friends. You would sound desperate, your eyes pleading with him to understand.

• Alexei never imagined you would and he frowns. "Whatever makes you think I'd assume you would play with another man? I trust you, sweetheart," he would whisper in your ear that evening, kissing your cheek.

• When you finally tell him the cause of your distress—an ex-husband (maybe he died)—and you tell him how he'd treat you extremely poorly and was extremely jealous and possessive.

• Alexei is shocked and disgusted but he is also offended that you would think so low of him and think he'd treat you the same way.

• However, he doesn't become angry and instead sees you need comfort and he whispers soothing words into your ear. "My darling dove, I would never lay a hand on you or make you feel dirty and less than me because you have friends. I am secure in this marriage. I know you only have eyes for me—as I only have eyes for you."

• Steamy, gentle, passionate sex to remind you that you deserve to be praised and worshiped and as your husband it's his duty to do just that. 😛

• Tom is an asshole. His ego is through the roof, he's immature, he mostly thinks of himself, he can be stupid, and he can be inconsiderate and crude. All these things are very very true.

• However, he also craves genuine intimacy and love. He's insecure like that (probably wasn't hugged enough as a child) so he's immediately drawn to your kindness.

• Say you're on the crew of his new movie (a camera girl? Makeup artist? Low ranking actress) and you're visibly nervous around him both because he's Tom Ryder and simply because of his reputation as a player.

• Players make you uncomfortable.

• He sees this and in the beginning, he likes teasing you. He thinks it's funny seeing you become flustered and hide from him.

• He thinks it's funny until one of his jokes goes too far and he makes you cry. Now, it's anything but funny and he feels like an asshole. He's not used to feeling like he's an asshole (he usually thinks too highly of himself).

• So, reluctantly he decides to apologize to you.

• He finds you outside the bathrooms, eyes teary and puffy. "Listen, babe, I didn't mean to make you cry so hard, kay? You look much prettier without all that snot on your face so gimme a smile, huh?" he say, still sounding like a bit of a jerk—he can't help himself—but he's trying.

• You're vulnerable so you end up spilling with a shaky voice that his joke reminded you of something your ex would say and you ramble on and on, unable to calm your mind.

• Tom's speechless (for once) as he listens.

• He may be an asshole, but he isn't abusive towards anyone he truly cares for so he doesn't understand your ex. He's now mad at himself and he's also secretly honored you opened up to him.

• He isn't use to sincerity or someone truly revealing themselves to him. He likes the feeling.

• Over the next weeks, he's kinder to you and he writes you little sticky notes and leaves them in your trailer/locker/wherever your stuff is with weirdly endearing messages.

• It's kinda sweet and eventually you crack.

• Tom Ryder is a surprisingly decent boyfriend. Sure, he still has an ego and he's still sometimes a jerk—but it's obvious he genuinely cares for you.

• He's by your side whenever you can be, reassures you when you're insecure and nervous around him and he's gentle with you.

• He knows you need that.

• "My sweet girl," he whispers in your ear between takes, making you feel like the only girl in the world, "So good for me, aren't you? I love you so much."

• And if he ever sees your ex and you end up crying or upset because of the jack-ass, he'll get his security team to hurt him. Badly.

• And then he'll buy you whatever you want to make you feel better! He likes spoiling you and he obviously has the money to do so.

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lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer · 4 months

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Haunted Pt 2

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the fantastic reception on Part 1, it really made me want to write some more to this little story! Here's Part 2, I hope you enjoy it as much as the last one.

Summary: Reader remembers a party she was at, and the Ghoul causes trouble in a saloon.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

I looked over to my left to see Barb Howard approaching me. She was completely impeccable – her dark skin was glowing, and she had the best-looking hair in the room. Her dress was a beautiful peach colour, and she had a string of pearls around her neck that were probably worth more than all the alcohol spilling at the party. Beside her, I felt ever so slightly dull.

“Oh, me and Jackie are having such a good time,” I nodded towards the toilets, “he’s currently taking a bathroom break.”

I felt the need to accentuate my husband’s appearance next to Barb, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Jackie appeared from the toilet and smiled widely at us.

“Barb, this is a spectacular event. You lot at Vault-Tec certainly know how to throw a party!” he laughed, and I felt a wave of jealousy come over me as she laughed alongside him. Jackie was so good at this – talking to people he barely knew, making them feel like he really cared about them even if he didn’t give a whatsits. “Me and my wife here barely get a chance to go out together at the minute, this filming is taking awfully long.”

I noticed he winced as he said this, and Barb’s face fell ever so slightly. The one thing we’d both agreed not to mention tonight was the film because we knew I was already on Barb’s bad side after she’d seen The Man from Calabasas. I’d never taken her as a jealous type, but after the premier had finished, Barb had become immediately cold towards me. Her irritation at my presence got worse with Under the Covers, and this one we were currently shooting often had visits to set from Cooper’s wife, who apparently was under the impression I was screwing her husband.

Not even my marriage had convinced her otherwise and she’d been invited to the wedding.

“Well, you and I are both feeling the loneliness from our spouses’ schedules, although Cooper’s is most definitely busier.”

I sucked in a deep breath at her veiled insult, but Jackie just put his hand on the small of my back and pointed to the corner.

“Look, darling, there’s Charlie,” he smiled politely at Barb, and she forced one back at us. “my apologies, Mrs Howard, but I think we’re being waved over.”

We walked away from her, and Jackie let out an unhappy sigh.

“God, you’d think that you’d be flirting with that woman’s husband off-camera with the way she acts towards you.”

“I barely flirt with him on camera, darling.” I chuckled, and he took me in his arms, placed his hands on my waist and kissed me deeply.

“I love you, darling.” He said softly, and I smiled back, feeling myself getting lost in his gaze.

“I love you too, Jackie,” I replied, “I love you very much.”

***

“Earth to Little Miss Ryder, are you even fuckin’ listening to me?”

I turned to the Ghoul, who was waving a gloved hand in my face. I jumped slightly and sent him an uneasy nod. We were walking past the remains of what seemed to be a forest, with trees that were coming back stronger than they’d grown before. Walking along the treeline gave us a bit of shade from the burning sun, but the Ghoul had been shifty since we’d left the hut that morning, looking in every direction at once as if something was going to appear all at once out of nowhere.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted thinking about someone. I mean, something.”

“Well, you better keep fuckin’ focused 'cause I think I can see what passed that hut last night.” He gestured in front of me, and I gasped as I saw what he meant.

Up in the distance, shuffling around aimlessly, was another ghoul.

“Has it seen us?” I whispered, but he shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” he hissed back, “but we’re gonna have to pass it at some point, and it’s definitely feral.”

In front of us, the feral ghoul began to turn towards us and suddenly I was being pulled behind a tree. He pulled out his gun and gestured for me to do the same.

“Hey, uh, I should probably have asked you this before, but what’s your name? I don’t want to go ‘hey ghoulie’ and have you both turn to look at me.”

“I don’t have one.”

“What do you mean you don’t have one?”

“I. Don’t. Have. One. Okay?”

“Everyone has a name!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just call me Sherrif!” he spat out, before leaping out behind the tree and shooting the feral in the head.

“What kind of a fuckin’ name is Sherrif?” I almost laugh at the implications – this fucking Ghoul, who dressed like a cowboy with a secret love of Westerns wanted to be called Sherrif?

“It’s my fuckin’ name, Missy.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

The feral currently on the floor began to move again, but Sherrif shot it again, still glaring at me.

“It’s a fucking stupid name – makes you sound like a dog.”

He lunged at me – grabbed onto my neck and shoved me against the tree we’d just been hiding behind.

“Maybe I just am a dog, Missy. I certainly seem to be followin’ you around like one.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m fuckin’ paying you for, Sherrif,” He let out an irritated huff, and let me go, adjusting his belt.

“Never meet your fuckin’ heroes,” he sighed and shook his head. I only let out another laugh and shrugged.

“I was never the hero, Sherrif. I was the always the damsel in distress, gettin’ tied up by some evildoer and Coop’s character would have to rescue me.”

“You were pretty fuckin’ fiesty for a damsel in distress.”

“Only ‘cause the old perverts that liked watching Coop’s pictures liked to see a woman’s titties jiggle as she fought off the evil outlaw.”

Walking away from the scene, the bounty hunter Ghoul became talkative in a way he hadn’t been before last night.

“What was it like actin’ alongside the infamous Cooper Howard?” I raised my eyebrows at him, but he only shrugged. “I’m just interested to know if he was a fuckin’ arsehole like actors usually are.”

“What do you know about actors, Sherrif?”

“Been around a long time, I suppose.”

“I can fuckin’ believe that one,” he shot me a dirty look, but I only grinned, “anyway, Coop was actually a pretty nice guy, for the most part. Though it is his fuckin’ fault I’m out here and not sittin’ pretty in a vault with my husband.”

“The vaults aren’t all they were cracked up to be,” the Sherrif grimaced, and adjusted his hat, “you’re probably better off out here.”

“You might be right, to be fair. But if I saw him walkin’ ‘round today, I’d sock him right on the mouth.”

“Haven’t you done that before anyway?” I roll my eyes at his attempt at a joke, but I can’t help but smile.

“We were acting.”

“Were you?”

“Of course I was!” I slap him on the arm, and he grins down at me. For a second, I’m not in the wasteland – I’m back on set with Cooper and Jackie or Greg and we’re just laughing about some dumb shit on the script. Then the wasteland appears before us again and I’m no longer home.

***

The next settlement we arrived at was substantial but quiet. The people there didn’t seem scared of us as we dragged ourselves to the watering hole, but there was a look in their eyes like you’d see in a prey animal. We handed over a few caps to the bartender in exchange for a drink and some directions to somewhere to kip for the night.

“Jus’ head over to Mister J’s place. It’s on the high street, opposite the junk shop. Can’t miss it.”

“Thank you kindly, sir,” I said, turning back to face the Sherrif. He was looking around us with a hint of suspicion on his face, and I handed him his drink. “what’s up, Sherrif? Does this saloon reek of outlaw or somethin’?”

The Sherrif grunted but nodded all the same.

“Somethin’ like that, little Missy. Somethin’ ain’t right here.”

We hadn’t been sitting in the bar long before that something walked right in, a rather substantial gun in his hand and a crazed look in his red-rimmed eyes. The bar went completely silent, and the ghoul next to me immediately put a hand on his own gun.

So far, apart from the trouble with raiders and fiends and all that shit, we hadn’t faced a huge threat. But between the haunted looks of the settlement inhabitants, and the coked-up-looking man standing next to the bar, I was sure this was going to be trouble. It reminded me of a scene from Under the Covers, where I’d played a sultry young woman hiding a dark secret opposite Cooper’s detective and he’d got into a bar fight over a mafiosa’s wandering hands.

I shook my head at the Sherrif, who seemed to be moments away from pulling out his gun and firing it at the coked-up crazy man before he decided to fire at anyone else. He frowned but shifted anyway and pulled his hat further over his face. The sudden intruder whispered something in the ear of the bartender, who had become very interested in the glass he’d been polishing. He put the glass down and poured the man a beer, before quickly going back to polishing his glasses.

From where we were sat, I had a pretty good view of the��dude – his red eyes, thick beard, the bloodied fist clenched around his beer glass. I looked back over at the Sherrif, whose eyes were trained on the gun in the man’s other bloodied hand.

I made eye contact with the Sherrif and then looked over to the door. He seemed to get my meaning, and we were about to get up when the crazed man began to talk.

“You got the caps for this month, Jim?” he asked, and the barman cowered, before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Sir, I haven’t been able to make the full amount since that shootout last month, I just need-”

“So you don’t have my fucking caps, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, Sir.”

At this point, I could see that the barman was shaking, and the other man was holding up his gun, not quite pointing it, but holding it up as if he were inspecting it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Sherrif shift in his seat, and his hand returned to the pistol.

“Well then, I guess I gotta give you a little more time then, eh? A little bit more time to make a few more caps, yeah?”

“Yes Sir, please. I only need a couple more days.” I was almost certain that the barman was close to shitting himself, and I was beginning to panic that we would be next.

I remembered men like these – men who would come into the brothel with their guns, pointing them at any whore who dared disobey.

I remembered shooting a few of them.

I watched, half in horror and half in dull apathy as the coked-up man raised his gun to the head of the barman, who had resorted to whimpering in fear. There was a click, as he pulled the trigger, but no gunshot ran out.

The barman let out a cry, but the other man just began to laugh.

“You got til’ tomorrow. If I don’t get my caps, I’ll shoot you in the fucking head for real.”

The barman whimpered a thank you and then seemed to crumple to his knees in relief, disappearing from view.

I let out a sigh of relief of my own, and I saw the Sherrif remove his hand from his holster. I relaxed my shoulders and leaned back into my chair and I saw my companion relax a little himself.

“Now, what have we got here?”

Shit. I took a quick look over to the Sherrif, who was currently in a staring contest with the apparent landlord of the saloon.

“Me and my companion here are just a couple wanderers, enjoying a quick drink,” I hastily begin, “We won’t be sticking around long.”

“You know, you don’t see many ghouls around these parts.” The Sherrif remained silent, so I attempted to step in again.

“We’ll be on our way very soon,” I said, “We’re not sticking around, like I said.” I looked over to the Sherrif as I did so, who raised his glass to the Landlord and downed the rest of his drink.

“You look very familiar, young lady,” the Landlord began, “Have we met before?”

I shook my head and forced out a smile.

“We’re nobodies, Sir. Just your average wastelanders.”

He looked us over, for a moment, before standing aside.

“Off you go then, average wastelanders.” He had a sneer painted across his scarred, hairy face that I didn’t like but at least he was letting us go.

We got to the door of the saloon and were about to walk out and find wherever Mr J’s was when the Landlord’s voice called out to us once again.

“I know where I remember you, Little Missy,” my breath caught in the back of my throat and I clenched my jaw. “You work at that brothel near Scrapheap, right? You were a slave there.”

“I earned my freedom,” I bit out, “I don’t work there anymore.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just knock you out and sell you back to it? I’m sure they’re missing their best worker.” He leered at me and I felt myself shiver. His eyes felt like they were piercing right through my bones. I opened my mouth to speak again, but I was interrupted before I could make a sound.

“You try anythin’ and I’ll shoot a bullet through your thick fuckin’ skull, alright?” Beside me, the Sherrif grinned and pointed his gun at the man in front of us. “I’d say that’s one good fuckin’ reason.”

The Landlord let out a loud, unhinged laugh. A few people around us began to laugh as well, and then the Ghoul standing next to me began to laugh as well.

He shot at the Landlord, and all hell broke loose.

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x oc #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x reader #fallout tv series #fallout prime #fallout show #walton goggins

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heygerald · 3 months

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Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 8

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. Invited along to his party, Parker spends the entire time trying to compare the Tom Ryder being celebrated with the one that she was starting to know. Oddly enough, it seemed that no one else knew him like she did.

Read the story here: prev / next

"Ho-ly shit."

Parker peeled her sunglasses off the bridge of her nose to cast a bug-eyed glance towards the looming mansion. The driveway, long and filled to the brim with parked cars worth more than her entire life savings, led up to one of the nicest houses she had ever seen. Gail's was the only one in competition, but while the producer's house had been a modern deco build with glass walls and white washed everything, this one was a Mediterranean style villa. Cobblestone led up to the front porch, large pillars jutting up to a three story foyer, with ivy sprawled over the entirety of the front half.

Holy shit was right.

"I can't believe this is where he lives," Colt muttered with a shake of the head. They were slowly ambling towards the valet parking, and music could be heard pulsing in the distance.

Parker leant between the two fronts seats, seatbelt unbuckled, to angle her head back for a better view. "Really?" she asked with a laugh. "Because this is exactly the type of place that I would picture him living."

"No way," he argued, petering up the drive. "Tom is all about fancy and new and having his face plastered on everything. I pictured him living in a Tom Cruise style mansion. Huge windows, glass ceilings, a petting zoo. That type of thing."

"Does Tom Cruise have a petting zoo?" Jody mused from the passenger seat.

"Well... probably," Colt shrugged.

Parker sighed, tilting her head to spare Jody an over the top eyeroll. "Colt thinks that all rich people have petting zoos. Something about the illegal zebra trade."

"Ivory trade."

"He watched one documentary and now he thinks he's David Attenborough," she chirped.

Her brother didn't take kindly to that, however, and planted his palm squarely into her face to push her into the backseat. She swatted him away, but the damage to her hair had already been done, and as Jody giggled into her hand, Parker tried to smooth it down. "It's Sir David Attenborough," he corrected her. Jody, amused as always by his antics, listened intently as he added, "and it wasn't just one documentary. There's a whole bunch out there about the exotic animal trade. Really heinous stuff, you know. Tom Cruise is definitely knee deep in it. He's the A-lister, after all. I bet he has one of those safari themed rooms with taxidermy endangered animals stuck up all over the walls. Rhinos for sure."

"Oh, for sure," she agreed.

They smiled at one another as Colt drew his truck to a stop. A valet appeared on both sides, opening a door for both Colt and Jody. Parker clambered out behind them—a disgruntled glare shot towards the valets that had completely ignored her—as Colt handed over the keys.

"Be easy with her, yeah? She's hard to handle if you don't know what you're doing," he said. Of course, with all the other cars surrounding them being Ferraris and Range Rovers, his pickup was the least expensive thing they had to worry about. When one of the boys coughed into his fist, Parker grabbed her brother by the elbow and hauled him towards the door. "What—it's a 2015!"

"I think they know what they're doing," she said.

"It has a wonky shift!"

"You're a wonky shift."

Colt snatched his arm out of her grasp as they approached the front door. He looked scandalized at her comment, and Parker couldn't help but return the favor by running a hand through his hair.

Of course, he had a problem with that, and as he shoved her away she could only laugh. A good thing she wasn't wearing heels; the cobblestone entry way was hard enough to walk on in sneakers, and if Jody hadn't been there to catch her, Parker may have gone face first into Tom's expensive garden. But, the blonde was there to catch her, and as Colt fixed his hair, the girls linked arms with matching smiles.

"Well, I for one can't wait to see what the inside looks like," Jody said conversationally. "I still can't believe that he invited us."

"Why not?"

Colt popped up on her other side, fringe back in place. "Because he's never invited us to his house. For anything. Ever. Like... ever. In the history of working for him. Literal years, Park. I'm not even allowed inside his trailer."

She shrugged. "First time for everything, right?"

Her brother didn't share her sentiments. In fact, as a pair of staff opened the front door for them, he almost looked trepidatious with a frown firmly in place.

Jody, on the other hand, was smiling excitedly. "First time for everything," she echoed.

Parker grinned at her. Then at her brother.

He rolled his eyes, but eventually a smile cracked through his apprehension. "Whatever. You think they have Bud Light?"

Music and chatter met the trio in a wave as they stepped through the front door. Jody was right to be excited—the inside of the house was far more gorgeous than the outside—and though the mass of people were all arguably important, respectable figures in Hollywood, all of them seemed to having good times with smiles and drinks in hands. No different than any other party they had been to before. Not really, anyway.

At the far side of the room was a fully stocked bar, waiters moving to and fro to serve the guests.

"Yeah, Colt," Parker laughed. "I think they have Bud Light."

---

Tom Ryder's house was exactly what Parker pictured it to be; a little bit Gucci, a little bit modern, a whole lot of colorful stucco decorated with oddly shaped mirrors, and an insurmountable number of pictures and self-portraits propped up throughout the room. Cardboard cut-outs of Tom in costumes from some of his most famous movies were sprawled throughout the living room, fashion shows and MTV interviews playing soundlessly on the large TVs, with balloons and banners stuck to every available space. If she didn't know better she might have thought that he was running for presidency with how many surfaces his face was plastered on.

Even standing at the bar, elbow propped on the cool marble surface, there were napkins with Tom Ryder quotes and trivia questions scattered along it.

"To see yourself on the screen is to be loved," one quote said. Another, printed, "Hollywood isn't just about believing, it's about doing."

Parker snorted, but tucked them into her purse anyway. Every quote was as ridiculous and vapid as the last. In one sense, she could absolutely picture Tom Ryder, face of the new Versace cologne, saying these things completely seriously to whatever reporter was listening. On the other hand, she also couldn't ever picture anyone saying these things outside of a movie script.

A bad one, too.

She was in the middle of reaching for the next in the pile when someone slumped against the bar beside her. She thought for a second that it was Colt—blonde fringe carefully swept away from the forehead with meticulous detail, beard trimmed neatly along his jawline, white toothed smile in place—but she had also left her brother in conversation with some directors outside by the pool with specific instructions not to move until she came back.

Besides, something about his presence just felt different.

Parker was smiling before she even met his gaze.

"I was wondering where you were hiding," she chirped.

Tom rolled his eyes. He was dressed in a silk button down with patterns of black and gold that accentuated the color of his hair, and a pair of black jeans. Last week's sunglasses had been replaced with his funky pair of yellow tinted glasses. Casual, yet she knew his outfit likely cost over a grand for the designer tags alone. "Are you already drinking?"

"Hardly," she huffed, glancing at the overcrowded bar. "I can't get anyone to take my—"

All it took was for him to wave a hand for a bartender to materialize, and Parker blinked in surprise. "Doubleshot vodka soda on the rocks, and a cosmopolitan," he said.

"Oh, I don't drink cosmos—" she started, only for the bartender to vanish before her eyes to get their drink orders started. She blinked a second time, mouth agape. "Huh. Now I know how pretty girls at bars feel."

"You think I'm a pretty girl?"

"You definitely have the attitude of one," she teased. Tom bent an elbow, turning to face her, and although they were in a room full of people overcrowded with music and chatter, there was something so captivating about Tom's attention that made it feel like she was the only person around. She cleared her throat, waving a napkin around languidly. "These are fun."

He rolled his eyes. "Gail loves that shit."

"I think this one is my favorite. To act is to be another person ," she quoted, wiggling her brows exaggeratedly. "Very insightful."

"Who invited you?"

Parker shrugged, plopping the napkin down onto the bar. "Some asshole I think," she mused. "I really only came for the chance to snoop through his house. I bet I could sell some hand towels for a couple hundred dollars each on eBay if I said you used them before."

He harrumphed. "Unlike Gail, I lock my doors."

"Spoilsport."

He shook his head with a chuckle just as the bartender set two glasses down in front of them. The cosmopolitan, though pink and delicate, had Parker crinkling her nose distastefully. She glanced up, hoping to flag the bartender back down, but the woman was gone.

The sound of clinking glass drew her attention, and Parker watched as Tom settled the vodka soda on her napkin, before taking a sip of the cosmopolitan. "I can't believe you don't like cosmopolitans."

"I can't believe you do. I feel like I read a quote of yours citing toxic masculinity as the best thing to come out of the older generation," she mused, glancing around at the mess of napkins she had made. "Pretty sure you said pink was for babies."

"I never said that."

"I'm telling you—"

"And salmon is the color of the season," he corrected her with another sip of his cocktail. She laughed, chancing a sip of her own, and though it was strong, it was fucking good. "Ask Melissa, she'll tell you that pink is very in right now."

"Oh, Christ, don't get me started," Parker groaned. The entire week had been spent getting Melissa up to speed on how to work the cash register, how to log new books, and how dreamy Tom Ryder was. Every other question out of the girl's mouth had been about the actor, and while Parker put up with a lot, even she had to put her foot down when Melissa started throwing around the boyfriend term. "She's pretty much the de facto president of Winward High's Tom Ryder fan club, you know. Now that she knows we're friends she's never going to leave my store."

He shrugged, casting a lithe glance around. "What's wrong with that? She clearly has good taste."

"Clearly," Parker deadpanned. "Her friends have started hanging around the store too thinking they'll spot you."

"Maybe they will."

She paused, straw pinched between her fresh manicure, to arch her brows at him accordingly. "You plan on coming by every Sunday to judge our progress or something?"

Her tone was teasing and light, but there was a weight behind the question. Are you planning on sticking around? she was asking without really asking.

Maybe he sensed that or maybe she wasn't as suave as she thought because in response Tom cast her a dry look. "You expect me to go to a real bookstore every time I need a recommendation?" he asked. And though it was quite clearly an insult against her little store, in another sense, it was also quite clearly not. "At least at your store I know I won't get mobbed with attention."

She huffed. "Well, you might, if Melissa's friends stick around."

Tom took another long sip of his drink before saying, "she's not so bad. And who am I to turn away some adoring fans, huh?"

"I almost forgot. You love attention," Parker deadpanned through a growing smile. It was hard sometimes to remember why she had disliked him so thoroughly when they first met—regardless of what Colt said, Tom was certainly charming. "Nice party, by the way."

He shot her a smug look. "Oh, this?"

"Oh, this? Whatever," she laughed. Her vodka soda was going down a little too easy as they talked, and with a shake of the quickly emptying glass, she had to remind herself that she absolutely could not get drunk at this function. Colt's birthday party was one thing, but this was altogether something else. "A very casual afternoon for you, I'd guess. I'm surprised you're not being mobbed by fans right here, too."

He waved a hand at her. "I've been networking all afternoon. Besides, most of the people here are advertisers or producers that I've already worked with in one way or another. If anyone wants to sign me for something they have to talk to Gail, not me. Really, it's more her party than mine with how much attention she's getting today."

Parker glanced at the large cardboard cut-out of a shirtless Tom Ryder from his movie The Puncher. She lifted a brow. "Really? I could hardly tell. You ever get creeped out from seeing your face everywhere?"

He followed her eyeline, and smirked. "Not when I look like that. I had to put on twenty pounds for that role."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding, something offended in his tone that she didn't believe him. A lot of things could be said about Tom, but no one could claim that he was lazy when it came to his acting. "I had to give up sugar for six months."

Parker blinked at him. "Seriously?"

"Alcohol too."

She glanced back at the cut-out, paying more attention to the cut of his muscles and the leanness of his body. It felt odd ogling the man that was literally standing next to her, but when she passed her gaze back over the real Tom, he seemed to be greatly enjoying the attention. Smugly, he flexed a bicep at her.

Parker couldn't help but throw her hands up with a laugh. "Alright, alright! I believe you. Not to say I'm an actor or anything but I can't believe you gave up alcohol for that role. I don't think I could do that. Not that I'm an alcoholic or anything, but, I don't know. That sounds awful."

"S'not as easy as everyone thinks. Being an actor."

She tilted her glass at him. "Well, I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Mr. Ryder. Good thing you can drink now, right?"

He blinked at her for a moment, assessing how serious she was, and when she gestured to him a second time with her glass, his shoulders lost some tension she didn't even realizing he was carrying. Smirking, Tom clinked his own glass against hers.

Together, they finished their drinks.

She wiped some spilt vodka off her chin as Tom glanced around. Despite him being the center of attention, he was right. It seemed that the party was happy to exist around him without even needing him. Though, every odd glance his way earned a wave or an acknowledging nod of the head, no one seemed desperate to interrupt his drink.

He turned to her. "Colt here?"

"Over by the pool. I think Jody was trying to introduce herself to some people from Warner Brothers when I left. You want to go say hi?"

He licked his lips, before gesturing to the bartender. "Four shots of vodka," he said. Parker lifted her brows at him in surprise. "What?"

"I thought we were supposed to be on our best behavior."

Tom shrugged with an indifferent sniff. "Yeah, well, it's my party right? Besides, I've spent all day entertaining these assholes. May as well see what kind of shit Colt has going on. I've got to talk to him about the movie schedule anyways."

Four shot glasses with lime wedges were set down onto the bar. Tom picked up two, and when Parker did nothing but blink at him, he gestured to them impatiently.

"Fuck, come on before someone does decide they want a picture."

"Why would they want a picture when they could just steal a poster?" she mused, though she did pick up the shot glasses. After stashing another wad of napkins into her purse, of course.

"Don't steal my shit, Parker."

"What—I didn't say I was going to!"

He scoffed, but there was a laugh hidden in there as well, and when he gestured at her a second time she figured there were worse ways to get into trouble then a few measly shots. Besides, he was offering. Where was the harm in that?

The crowd parted for Tom without him even having to ask, and as she hustled after him, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have everyone worship you, but from a distance.

"Hey, listen," she said, crowding up against his shoulder. "Colt might ask you some weird questions about the exotic animal trade. He thinks all rich people secretly own zebras. Something he saw on a documentary."

"Do you really think I'd let a zebra in here? I'm allergic to them. Plus they bite."

"Wh—how could you possibly know that?"

Tom glanced at her over his shoulder with a look she couldn't quite interpret. She was pretty sure from the flatness of his brows that he was judging her, but then again, she got the distinct impression that Tom was always judging her in one way or another. It seemed a default setting for him. "I had to get allergy shots when I did that Dior commercial," he said, voice almost swallowed by the music around them. When he shrugged, she felt the ripple of muscles from where she was pressed up against him. "Besides, you ever been to Tom Cruise's house? The place is crawling in them."

That sparked more questions than she could rightly keep track of, but Tom kept on walking as though it was an entirely normal thing to say.

So, with a huff, she just followed after.

---

The afternoon sun was warm on her shoulders, but Parker didn't seem to notice from her spot on the couch. People milled all around the pool—models walking by with oversized hats to protect their skin, producers speaking behind Kardashian style sunglasses that covered most of their face, directors caught up in spirited debates about whatever they thought the best movie of the year was—yet somehow the group of four had managed to find a little spot all to themselves away from the crowd.

The patio furniture was gorgeous; a blend of wood and metal work that was just as pretty as it was functional. There was a mix of empty glasses across the table. Their shot glasses, long since empty, had been carted off sometime ago by waitstaff. In their place were crystal glasses and crumpled napkins. Jody was currently nursing a chilled glass of wine, while Colt was responsibly finishing off a water to counter all the mojitos he'd already drank. Tom had an array of fancy cocktails that he'd finished off throughout the afternoon, and beside him Parker was working on her third double vodka soda.

She could feel her nose tingling a bit, legs fluid and weightless from where they were tucked beneath her.

The whole don't drink too much from the open bar sentiment had been disregarded almost as soon as she got there. Though she wasn't trying to make an ass of herself, it was obvious that Tom wasn't the lightweight she had teased him with being. He had been steadily drinking himself through the unlimited bar, and despite not intending to do the same, every time he ordered a new drink, miraculously something would appear for Parker as well.

Not that she minded. Open bars were spectacular, and she was having too much fun to turn down a free drink.

"—so, anyway, I'm telling you," Colt was in the middle of saying, hands gestured wide and face a rosy red as he laughed. He smacked the umbrella at his side as he talked, but didn't even seem to notice. "The drop was fifty feet, and I was supposed to do it without any sort of harness."

"Isn't that a safety hazard?"

"Well, he was just dropping into the water," Tom shrugged. "That's not bad, right? Water is soft."

"Water is so not soft," Parker corrected with an incredulous giggle. "It's like hitting solid concrete! Especially from that height. He had bruises for days!"

Tom furrowed his brows. "Nah... seriously?"

"Well, uh, I mean," her brother hedged. Whatever sort of comradery that had been building between him and Tom over the last week didn't seem to negate the fact that Tom was still his boss. Anxiously, he tugged at the collar of his jacket. "S'not like falling onto pillows."

This was apparently a shock to Tom. "Seriously? You did that stunt, like, four times!"

"Right, yes, I did. I did do it like four times. But, you know, that's because the angle wasn't right and they wanted me to show less face and then there was the whole issue with my hair..." he trailed off, shrugging. "Which, totally fine. Hair is hair, I get it."

Tom thoughtfully trailed a hand through his own hair.

"But, anyway," Colt continued. Always smiling, never one to linger on bad feelings and unfortunate facts. "So, I'm sitting there, right? Totally scared shitless as everything is prepped because the night before, Parker, that asshole, had sent me all these links to a story about someone getting eaten by a shark!"

The memory came flooding back, and though she probably should have felt bad, she was too occupied by laughing at how hilarious the whole thing was. "I didn't know you were going to be in the water at the same place!" she defended with a cry. "It was a viral story! How is it my fault that a shark decided to have a surfer for lunch?"

"Oh, well, when you put it like that... I guess you could have kept that to yourself!"

The couch erupted in laughter. Partially because Colt was just as funny as he was expressive, and partially because the idea that he had been jumping fifty feet into the water but was worried about sharks was entirely ridiculous.

"Were you alright?" Jody asked.

"Who? Me?" Colt sniffed, a hand run through his own hair. He never played cool all that well, but that certainly never stopped him from trying. Parker shared an amused look with Tom. "Fine. Totally good. Not even a scratch. You know, it was a big jump too. But I did it four times and the footage came out really good. Not to brag or anything but it was the biggest jump I've done so far."

"Sounds awful."

"Very scary."

"Horrific," she continued to emphasize with him. Drunk or not, Parker wondered if Jody was ever not staring at her brother like he lit up the room. She didn't have to ask that question about Colt—when Jody was around, she swore he would walk face first into a concrete wall. "I'll add that to the list of very brave things that you do."

He made some sort of suave joke that Parker couldn't—and more importantly didn't—want to hear that had the pair leaning on each other in giggles.

Parker took a long sip of her drink before shooting Tom a derisive look.

"Isn't there a rule on set about fraternizing?"

He looked just as disturbed as she did. "Should be. Maybe I could work that into the next contract."

"I bet you have good lawyers."

"Very good."

In the same tone that Jody had used, she said, "how brave of you. I can't imagine ever leaving the house without a team of lawyers to protect me."

She was obviously teasing, and he was well aware of that. Yet, when Tom looked at her, Parker couldn't help but flush under his attention. They were pressed into one another on the couch, having been shifted closer and closer over the afternoon every time a story was told or drinks were passed out, and from this distance she could smell his cologne.

Musky and light at the same time; lemons and saltwater.

The moment passed when his face split into a grin, and just like she had been judging Colt and Jody moments before, the pair peeled forward with their own laughter.

It wasn't until an ice cube bounced off her forehead did she control herself enough to return her attention to her brother.

He had a weird look on his face; eyes bouncing back and forth between her and Tom. "What are you laughing at, weirdo?"

"Inside joke," she chirped, if only because she knew it would bother him even more to be left out. "You wouldn't understand."

As expected, Colt sat up straighter with a frown. "I'll understand. I understand everything about you. You know, since I'm you're best friend. Have been for years. Pretty much know everything about you, Park. Duh."

"You're not my best friend."

"What—what do you mean I'm not your best friend?" he hissed incredulously. Jody sipped her wine calmly, glancing between Colt and Parker as he practically leaned over her lap to argue. "Of course I'm your best friend!"

"Am I your best friend?"

Colt spluttered. "Well of course you are! You know, just behind Dan. And Johnny. And Pete has been with me for a long time, you know, through the whole... that doesn't matter. I'm your best friend! I know I am! Who else would it possibly be?"

Parker leaned closer. Jody was now angled back, trying to avoid being smacked by either of the siblings. "Doesn't matter. So why don't you mind your business?"

"Mind my—?" Colt let out a sound halfway between a groan and a squeal, and Parker settled back into her seat with a proud grin.

Honestly, he was so easy to rile up.

So easy in fact that Jody had to pat him on the shoulder, shifting between Colt and Parker so that she could console him. Parker could still make out his frown; hear his harsh muttering as well. She giggled into her straw, pleased as punch.

"And you think I'm an asshole," Tom muttered into her ear.

She smirked at him. "You are an asshole."

The same flicker of disbelief that her brother had worn flashed across Tom's face, and it only disappeared when she pitched forward in giggles.

"I swear you two are so easy to mess with!" she cackled.

He rolled his eyes, shoving her hand off his shoulder when she attempted to console him in the same way that Jody was consoling Colt. "Didn't you say something about personally kicking you out? I think I remember that being part of our negotiations."

With all the elegance she could muster, Parker stuck her tongue out at him.

Perhaps no one had done that to him since middle school, but it shocked Tom so much that he ended up coughing up his last sip of his pina colada. That only prompted her to laugh harder, of course, and even though she was quite literally laughing at his expense, the couch shook when he started laughing too.

It was nice.

And then, suddenly, it wasn't.

"Well, this looks like a good bit of fun I've just stumbled into," a cloying voice called from the edge of their couch.

Parker didn't recognize the woman watching them, but it seemed by their reactions that the other three were well familiar with her. Colt and Tom covered their laughter with coughs and large swallows of their drinks, while Jody smoothed a hand nervously through her hair. It was an immediate sort of reaction—the type kids had when the principle stopped by—and though she didn't even know her, Parker couldn't help but to fix her own hair as well.

"No, no, please, don't stop on my regard," she said, waving perfectly manicured nails at them. The gold bracelets on her arms jingled harmoniously around the diet code and rum in her hand. A striped paper straw, tainted with the equally bright red of her lipstick, swung around in the glass. "I'm so glad that you're all enjoying yourselves so much. I rarely get this glimpse of your personal lives outside of the set."

Her brother cleared his throat under her attention, a strained smile plastered in place. "Yeah, well, you know, it's a little hard to do that when you don't normally have anything to do with us outside the set," he said.

Parker's frown deepened, but the woman only laughed.

"Charming as ever, Colt! And Jody," she added, peering around Parker. The camerawoman gave an awkward smile in response. "It's so nice to see you too, my dear. I really do have quite a few people here that I think you should talk to. Lots of talent everywhere you look, really. You could learn so much just by a few conversations; it'd be so really good for your career, dear."

"Oh. Uh, of course," she nodded. "I'd love to meet anyone. I've noticed that—"

"Tom, of course, I know. Hello my darling, my shining star," she carried on as if Jody hadn't spoken at all. She responded by taking a long swig of her drink while Colt muttered something behind the curve of his hand. Parker would have paid more attention to their whispering if the woman's gaze didn't move to her next. "And who might this be?"

Tom cleared his throat. "This is Parker."

"Uh, hi," she said with an awkward half wave.

"This is Gail," he continued with another gesture. "My producer."

Oh.

Gail the producer was not quite what Parker was expecting. And yet, in another way, she was everything that she had been expecting. Dressed elegantly in a black pantsuit, neck adorned with gold jewelry that matched the heavy earrings dangling from her ears, Gail was certainly wealthy. She had a pair of red bottomed shoes on, the type of tinted glasses that were certainly more for appearances than necessity, and her hair was in large mussed curls around her head that probably cost a hundred dollars a piece. Her makeup was spotless despite the drink in her hand, and her smile was the mega-watt type that only existed in Hollywood.

Yet, it didn't feel friendly. In fact, as Gail's gaze slipped over Parker in a torturously slow slide, she couldn't help but feel that nothing about the woman was sincere.

And that's exactly what she was starting to suspect from Tom's stories, wasn't it? That the producer wasn't so much his friend as she was in the person in charge of him.

That certainly felt true now as her smile shifted to Tom.

"Oh, this is Parker?" she asked in a high pitched voice. If possible, her smile stretched further. "Darling, so good to meet you. I had no idea that you would be joining us today—I certainly didn't think I saw your names on the guest list—but the more the merrier! Besides, I feel that I should be thanking you."

"Sorry," Parker did a double take. "Thanking me?"

"Well, you are the one that convinced Tom here to go for that sci-fi role, aren't you?" she mused, fingers carefully sticking her straw back into her mouth as she took a long sip.

"Oh, I don't think I—"

"No need to be so shy, darling! Tom told me all about it. Course, that was only after I found him reading a stack of books to prepare for the role; so dedicated this one. I had a hard enough time getting him to consider a romance movie last year," Gail continued, laughing, "and it barely took any help from you at all to get him in excited for this film. Brilliant, darling, really. I'm always telling him that he should try to expand his portfolio. And this? Well, I think this is going to be the next big thing!"

Tom took a long dreg of his drink at the comment. Parker frowned.

She hadn't done anything. It was Tom's idea to go for the audition. And hadn't Gail been telling him he wasn't right for it in the first place?

Knowing when not to be mouthy, however, kept Parker's questions to herself. She nudged Tom with her elbow, and only when he glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, did she say, "I think you're probably right. This movie will be the next big thing. Sci-fi is really in right now, you know. Right Colt?"

Her brother blinked at her like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Subtly, Parker gave him a look. "Oh, yeah, totally. Sci-fi is huge ever since, er, Star Trek got big again. This movie is gonna be a blockbuster, Gail. Definitely a game changer for, uh, Tom."

Gail hummed. "Yes, certainly. And all thanks to the star sitting right here with us. I've always said Chris Pine was nothing compared to him."

Tom gave an awkward laugh. "We haven't even started filming yet."

"Oh, hush, darling," she waved a hand at him flippantly. Parker couldn't imagine anyone dismissing Tom Ryder like that and him taking it, but his only response was to take another sip of his drink. It was empty, however, and without being asked, she offered hers.

Tom drank half of it in a single gulp.

"He's so humble, isn't he?" Gail continued cooing. "Sitting over here, all by himself. Darling, there are so many people that still want to talk to you! You can't expect to hide out all afternoon."

"Are we chopped liver?" Colt muttered under his breath, only to be shushed by Jody.

Gail didn't hear, and instead patted Tom on the shoulder with an affectionate tut. "Come on, there are a few people from Disney that want to talk to you. Big things coming already from this movie! Just think about it; this could be the next Disney prince!"

He shifted under her touch, but managed a smile. The very type that was plastered inside on every available surface. Once upon a time, it was the smile she associated with him—the Tom Ryder that everyone saw scattered across the globe—but now, seeing it just had Parker's stomach dropping.

"Fine. But I'm not singing."

"Oh, no, of course not dear. We can always have vocals brought in from someone else if it comes to that..."

The pair disappeared into the crowd, though Parker swore she could hear Gail's laugh like nails on a chalkboard. She shook the last it of her drink with a sigh, ice clinking together.

"So, that's Gail, huh?"

Colt blew a raspberry. "Don't even get me started. Once, someone got stung by a bee, and she ranted for twenty minutes at filming being held up because they needed an epi-pen. She's the only person I've ever met that's worse than Tom."

"She's the scariest women I've ever met," Jody said. Then, with a thoughtful glance around, added, "do you think there really are people here that want to meet me?"

And just like that, things went back to normal, as her brother's face lit up with a dreamy smile. "I'd bet everyone here wants to meet you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious!" he said. Two men drifting by their couch caught his attention, and Colt cupped his hands at them. "Hey! I've got Jody Moreno over here! Waiting to be talked to! Step right up!"

"Colt!" she hissed. But she was laughing too as she tugged his hands back down into his lap. Her face was beet red when the men raised their brows at her curiously. "I can't believe you've just done that. Honestly!"

Her brother didn't see the problem, and just shrugged. "What?"

And while Jody spent the next twenty minutes swatting at him in humiliation every time he tried to pull someone into conversation with her, Parker couldn't help the way that her shoulders dropped in disappointment when every new person passing by turned out not to be the only one she wanted to talk to.

Fucking Gail.

---

Turns out, drinking from an open bar whilst sitting around the pool was a recipe for getting drunker than one intended. Parker hadn't moved from their spot on the couch in over two hours, and by the time she decided she really had to pee, her movements weren't nearly as harmonious with her thoughts as they had been.

In fact, when she stood up, she almost went careening right into Jody's lap. And though she had been considering another vodka soda the way her brother teased her was advice enough to start drinking some water. Afterall, if Colt thought she was making an ass of herself, she was a lot worse off than she thought.

So, after a wobbly trip to the bathroom where she had splashed some cold water onto her face, and an extra cold water from the bar, Parker had firmly told herself that she wasn't going to drink any more. It was getting late, anyway, and they would have to leave eventually. It would do no one any good if she threw up on the windy rode back to Colt's place—especially not when it would be the second Friday in a row that those exact circumstances played out—and the idea of having to polish her brother's truck as an apology was enough to have her start sobering up.

But, by the time she got her second water from the bar, the party seemed to have moved outside as the sunset proved a beautiful backdrop for selfies. Crowded and surrounded by cameras was not something Parker was interested in.

So, while everyone else moved outside, Parker decided to wander around inside.

It was a gorgeous house. Prettier than Gail's, she thought, because while the producer's had been that sort of minimalistic white that was taking over Beverly Hills, this one was a painting of orange and red, framed memorabilia scattered across the walls, bohemian patterned rugs soundless beneath her sneakers as she aimlessly drifted throughout. A framed hockey jersey was the only thing that felt out of place, but Tom hadn't been wrong when he scolded her interior design skills; she really wasn't one to judge, and so she shrugged it off without much thought to amble on past. There was a landing at the top of his stairs just like Gail's, one that was crowded with people and drinks, and though there was a hallway that had clearly been roped off from public access, no one seemed to nice when Parker ducked underneath the rope and disappeared around the corner.

She supposed that was something she could apologize for later, but when she stumbled across an ivy colored balcony, she couldn't begrudge herself for being curious.

It sat on the side of the house, hidden well behind an overhang of trees that blocked the neighboring houses from view. A stack of yoga mats sat in the corner, weights and endurance bands sitting next to them, and a worn rug silenced her shoes as she peered over the wall. On her tip toes she could just make out the front drive, Colt's truck parked all the way at the end, but for the most part she felt hidden from everything.

"I thought I told you not to steal anything."

Or, almost everything, anyways.

Parker snorted, but flung her purse to Tom. He caught it and one handedly started to shift through its contents. His brows furrowed together. "It's just napkins."

"Some coasters too. How do you even get your face printed on a coaster?"

"Money."

She sucked her teeth dramatically. "So that's why I don't have my face on wooden coasters. Add it to the Christmas wish-list I guess."

Tom dropped her purse onto the small table with an eyeroll, before plopping down onto the small loveseat next to it. He didn't seem amused by her joke. "This area is blocked off. There's a rope and everything to keep people from snooping."

"Is there?" she mused. "Huh. Weird. I don't think I saw that."

"Are you drunk?"

She blew a raspberry with one last view at the drive before joining him on the couch. Her drink sloshed a bit, but she hardly noticed as she offered it to him. Smiling, she said, "water."

Tom turned his nose up at her. "At least if you spill that everywhere it won't ruin anything."

"It happened one time."

"Do you know how much I pay my interior designer?"

Parker set her water down onto the table with an eyeroll, but not one that missed the dangling windchimes or the birdfeeder in the corner. "Honestly, probably plenty, but I like your house, so it's worth it."

"Oh, you think it's worth it? Thank god. I was worried it wouldn't be to your taste," he snarked. It was unusually aggressive for him, though. Like he used to talk to her. Mean and cagey, with a bite to each syllable. "I'm not sure what I would do if my house didn't get your approval. Might have to buy a new one."

"O-kay," she drawled. "That was rude. What's up with you?"

"Nothing is up with me."

"Sure," she said with furrowed brows. He huffed at her tone, sneering. Awkwardly, Parker gestured between them. "Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather keep acting like a passive aggressive dick?"

"Better idea. Why don't you just fuck off?" he snapped.

For a moment, Parker could only blink at him in surprise. He'd been an ass plenty of times before, but he'd never been this outrightly rude to her. She thought he might change his tone, hoped that he would admit it was all just a joke, but instead Tom just sat there with a glare.

And fuck if that didn't hurt.

"Alright, fine," she stood, throwing her hands up. Surprise flashed across his face, clearly not having expected her to give up so easily, but she was a grown women; friends or not, Parker did not linger where she wasn't wanted. Grabbing her purse, she said, "if you'd rather yell at me then I'm going to find Colt. I think we're going to leave soon anyway."

She crossed half the porch before Tom scoffed.

"Seriously? That's it? Fucking great. You're welcome for the invites, by the way. I'm sure you drank your worth at the open bar so you may as well leave like everyone else."

"That's not fair."

"Whatever," he waved a hand at her dismissively. "If you're going to go then just go. Now that you're done snooping around and drinking I'm not sure why'd you want to stay anyway."

She crossed her arms at him, breathing sharply through her nose, trying to level out just which emotion she was feeling the most. Hurt? Betrayal? Stupid?

"Well, what do you want me to do, Tom? Huh? If you're going to be an ass then I'm going to leave you alone because I don't deserve to be treated like that. Especially since you know I didn't come for free alcohol," she said, voice hitching. He looked away from her with a stony silence. Parker continued. "I came to celebrate you . But it's your house, and your party, so if this is how it's going to be I'm going to leave. Which is—that's fine if you'd rather be left alone, alright, that's not a sin to need some space—but you can't talk to me like that just because something upset you."

"I'm not upset."

She shook her head. "Well you're either upset or you're just an asshole."

"You made it very clear which you thought I was."

Parker ground her teeth together, knowing that there were quite a lot of things she could say to that, but also well aware that he was baiting her. Slowly, she took a deep breath before biting out, "I'm not sorry that I called you an asshole the first time we met because you were being one. But," she continued, shifting on her feet with an even deeper sigh, "I'm sorry that I keep calling you one. Alright? It was a joke. I thought you knew that I don't really think that. Well, didn't before right now."

He said nothing.

She sighed a second time, awkwardly adjusting her purse on the crook of her shoulder.

He wasn't looking at her. In fact, he was pointedly looking anywhere but at her as her words echoed across the balcony. They could still hear music drifting from the other side of the house, the occasional crunch of tires across gravel up the driveway, the chatter of happy, drunk people from all around.

Deciding not to linger she swallowed her pride to leave.

"...alright."

She paused, glancing over at him. "Alright, you want to be alone?"

He cleared his throat, still not looking directly at her, before he gestured to her vacated seat beside him. "Alright, you can stay."

Despite his apparent humility, Parker felt her temper flare at his wording a second time.

Who did he think he was?

"Oh, how gracious of you to let me stay. Thanks."

"What do you want me to say?" he shot back, finally looking at her. There was something in his gaze she wasn't used to seeing—something hurt and angry and lonely. She couldn't understand how someone could ever feel lonely at a party thrown in his honor. Then again, Parker supposed it wasn't really in his honor, was it? Sure, it was his face plastered everywhere, but the only people that she had seen him talk to were ones asking for something. He ran a hand through his hair. "If you want to stay then stay. You don't have to be so fucking difficult about it."

"I'm not being difficult, you're just in a mood."

"I'm not—" he started to refute, tension lingering in his words, before catching himself. She watched him take a deep breath, eyes studying something she couldn't see. He gestured to the seat next to him a second time. "Just... stay, alright?"

It wasn't an apology. It wasn't even close to an apology. He didn't meet her eyes, didn't take back what he had said, didn't change his tone.

And yet for a reason she couldn't pinpoint... she stayed.

Parker took a calming breath, glancing at the picturesque sky, reminding herself of the good mood and fun she had been having moments before this conversation. When she felt her pulse return to a normal level she sat back down, purse plopped against the table with a rattling thud. Tom was playing with some frayed thread from his jeans as if she wasn't even there.

The petty part of Parker argued that was fine by her. If he wanted to play the quiet game, than she could play the quiet game.

But the other part of Parker...

Well, it felt bad for him. Which was ridiculous. He was an A-list movie star with a Beverly Hills mansion that overlooked the city hosting a gigantic party to celebrate his latest movie contract. He was constantly the center of attention, constantly being catered to, constantly having people sing his praises not caring if he treated them like he had just treated her. He had his own fan club for fuck's sake.

What did he have to be upset over?

That wasn't fair though. Parker knew it wasn't. Tom had proven time and time again that his life wasn't all rainbows and sunshine; that he didn't get to do whatever he wanted, that he wasn't the same face she saw on advertisements.

"Was it Gail?" she asked quietly.

"What?"

"You were in a good mood earlier, when you were hanging out with us. I thought so, anyway. And then she came and pulled you away and I didn't see you for a while and now you're... well, you don't seem to be enjoying the party anymore. I just—did she say something? "

He frowned, tugging extra hard on the thread. "Just leave it, Parker."

"But—"

"Please," he muttered. It was the first time she had ever heard him say that word, and though he wasn't looking at her, she was pretty sure that there was something broken beneath his golden framed glasses. "Just leave it alone."

And oh if that didn't hurt worse than his attitude.

Parker pulled a knee up to her chest, tucking her chin on it. She had worn her hair down today, silky from a blow-out that Jody had helped her with just for this occasion, and it slid against her back as a breeze kicked up. From where she had haphazardly thrown her purse a pair of napkins fluttered to the ground.

"Okay, fine, we don't have to talk about it, but this is officially boring," she said when the silence continued to stretch on. She snatched up the crumpled wad of napkins, and Tom furrowed his brow at her as she flattened them out. "Alright. When is your birthday?"

"What?"

"August thirteenth, November seventh, or January twenty-first?"

He blinked between her and the napkin. "What?"

She huffed, waving the napkin like a flag. "It's trivia. Some of them, anyways. A lot of them are some very questionable quotes that we're definitely going to discuss later. But for now we can at least we can entertain ourselves with these."

"Why did you take, like, a hundred of them?"

She shrugged indifferently. "Sticky fingers," she said, and when Tom's mouth flickered ever so slightly at the corner, she pressed on. "So, anyway, when is your birthday? August, November, or January?"

"You don't know?"

"Why would I know when your birthday is?"

He shrugged, hand dropping the thread of his pants to pass through his hair. His fringe had been mussed throughout the afternoon, clearly a sign that he did that a lot, but he didn't seem to even notice. "Because I'm—"

"Ugh, don't even finish that thought," she moaned, rolling her eyes. He really had to be joking sometimes. "I'm going to guess... August?"

Tom shifted on the couch, shooting her a strange look. "How'd you know?"

"Good luck, I guess. What does that make you? A virgo?"

"Leo."

"Ah," she nodded, pretending that was interesting news to her. Parker didn't know shit about astrology, but she had heard Melissa talk about it enough to know at thing or two. With mock seriousness, she continued, "that makes sense, I guess. Leo's are all about self-confidence and actualization. The sign of royalty. Some say that Julius Caesar was a Leo."

"Really?"

Parker shot him a look, brows arched towards her hairline. "I don't fucking know, astrology is total bullshit," she snickered, chucking the crumpled napkin at him. It fluttered into his lap, and he didn't look all that impressed at he set it onto the side table. Still, his mouth twitched again. The next napkin was stained with something pink. "What is your favorite sport? Basketball, hockey, or baseball?"

"Shouldn't I be reading the questions?"

"I'm not letting you dig through my purse, perv," she said. He looked scandalized by the comment, and when she started to laugh, Tom shook his head at her. She nudged his leg with her shoe. "Besides, they're my napkins."

"That I paid for."

She steamrolled on, pursing her mouth thoughtfully. "Well, I think basketball is a stupid sport, so not that. Mhmmm... hockey?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "...did you read these already?"

"So I'm right?" she asked, and with the grace of a sore loser, Tom pursed his mouth irritably. Parker pumped a fist in the air victoriously, wiggling her brows at him, and when his mouth crested into a smile, she waved the napkin in his face with the grace of a sore winner. "Ha! I'm starting to think we should put money down on the next one."

He forced the smile away with an eye roll. "Do you have money to bet?"

"Well... I'm sure there's a couple dollars somewhere in my purse. Colt always has at least twenty on him."

"Don't go betting your brother's money just yet, huh? These are easy questions."

"Easy?" she blustered.

"Everyone likes hockey."

"Everyone—baseball is literally an American sport! Everyone likes baseball!"

He ignored her, waving a flippant hand at her stack of napkins. Parker stuck her tongue out at him, tossing aside that question, to search for the next. Half the napkins she had stashed were ones with quotes, all of which were equally ridiculous, and she carefully set them into a pile on the table so she could take them home.

For comedic purposes, obviously. She wanted to stash them around Colt's apartment. She was pretty sure he would lose his mind if Jody thought he was secretly a Tom Ryder super fan.

Finding one that did have a question, she adjusted in her seat in anticipation. "Alright, alright, here's another one," she said. "What is Tom Ryder's favorite move? Fight Club, October Sky, or Pulp Fiction?"

Shit. She really didn't know for this one.

Parker narrowed her eyes at him, turning so they were facing one another directly, shoes wiggling as she tucked them underneath herself. He didn't give anything away; just met her steadfast through the tint of his glasses, no hints given, and when he raised a brow, she just knew that he was expecting her to fail.

"...Pulp Fiction?"

Tom made a face. "Okay, you're looking these up."

"Was that right?"

"Does the napkin have the answer?"

"What—no!"

"Well, you're cheating!"

" Ah—I'm not cheating!" she laughed just as he stretched over to grab the napkin out of her hand. The answers were on the back of the napkins, but she hadn't been looking at them. However, if he saw that, he would never believe her. So, as Tom grappled with her, shoving her free arm out of the way as her back dug into the armrest, Parker stretched as far as she could manage through an eruption of giggles. "You're going to—break my—arm! Ah!"

He was warm—always warm—as his chest pressed into hers, and when his fingers scraped the edge of the napkin, she twisted her shoulder back as far as it would go if only just to make him work for it a little bit harder.

Okay, so maybe she did like to be difficult. Sue her.

Tom pressed closer, stretching, laughing, as she wedged her knee against his chest to push. "Just give me the napkin!"

"No!"

"Because you were cheating?"

His hand skimmed the curve of her waist as he attempted to pull her entire body closer, and she shrieked from the ticklish feeling. That only had Tom trying twice as hard, aware that he was going to come out victorious, and in the energy of a little sister that never liked to lose, Parker pressed her free hand against his chest before chucking the napkin into the air. It caught on the breeze within seconds, and when it angled towards the edge of the balcony, Tom's hand tangled in her hair as he tried to grab it. Of course, she knew that was coming, and with all her might Parker wrapped her arm around his shoulder to pull him down towards her.

"No, no, no—!"

They became a tangle of limbs and laughter as he made a last ditch effort to grab the sailing napkin, and just when she thought he might snatch it, there was a rattle and the sound of a glass shattering against the floor.

They froze.

Together, they glanced down at the floor to find her glass broken in half, water seeping into the rug.

"Are you kidding—"

"Oh my god!" she shrieked, barely able to speak through the laughter racking her chest. "It's just water!"

"That's the second time."

"Both of them were your fault!"

"How was the other time my fault?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said, fulling cackling now, still pressed tightly against his chest; tighter still because every time Tom laughed he edged further into her personal space. The napkin was long gone by now, but neither of them moved besides the way his hand shifted warmly along her waist. "Maybe because I wouldn't have spilled it if you hadn't scared the shit out of me!"

Tom laughed at her accusation. It was carefree, loud, head tipped back to show the curve of his neck where a necklace dangled, the silver chain cold against her own flushed skin.

"I was a little preoccupied," he defended. "And I didn't expect someone to barge in on me!"

"I didn't barge."

"You did."

"I don't barge," she continued to deflect, crinkling her nose at the word. Slowly, their laughter died down as she swallowed. "I, you know, prance. Like women do, but I definitely don't... ahem, barge."

Whatever fire she had fueling her defense seeped away as Parker finally realized just how close Tom was to her.

They were pressed tightly against one another on the small loveseat, hair mussed from their wrestling, sunglasses somewhere on the floor. She could smell his cologne from how his collarbone was exposed to her, buttons undone, skin roiling hot and tan beneath the shirt. Parker's own jean jacket was hanging off one shoulder, her own necklace tangled at the nape of her neck, chest catching with soft laughter and something else too.

She remembered the first time she had ever laid eyes on Tom.

She had been speechless from how handsome he was in real life; thinking of him only as a thing that was flaunted in advertisements and on tv, and not as a person. Then there was when she found him in Gail's bathroom, shirt gone, chest glistening with sweat and rippling muscles. When he had called her in a rough voice, when he showed up at her store to insult it and then ask for a favor, when he had driven her to Colt's birthday party with wind blowing through his fringe as they listened to Sabrina Carpenter's latest hit on the radio, the way he glowed in the firelight.

For a long time now there had been two Toms in her life. The one she met back on day one, with a huge ego and blisteringly white teeth, that she thought was an uptight asshole, who had just lashed out at her for no real reason. And then there was the one that she laughed with, teased in a way she doubted anyone else did, sharing secrets and talking about things like sci-fi books and birthday parties while they sipped coffee and beer.

And now, as she blinked up at him with flushed cheeks, she came to the startling realization that it wasn't two versions of the same person, but one person that had developed a second skin to survive a world that didn't see him as anything other than a dollar sign.

A person who was lying above her, piercing eyes drifting over the freckles on her nose to the curve of her mouth.

"Just tell me," he said.

"Tell you what?"

He swallowed, gaze pulled back up to meet her eyes. She felt weightless, as if she was drunk, but it wasn't because of the alcohol. Tom licked his lips. "Did you cheat?" he asked.

She huffed. Her breath ruffled the loose fringe on his forehead. "No," she shook her head slowly, knowing just by the look in his eye that whatever she said was important to him. "No, I didn't cheat. I just... you told me your birthday at Colt's party, and you have a hockey jersey hanging in the hallway."

"And Pulp Fiction?"

"I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I guess... it just felt like a movie you'd like."

That look from before returned; the one she couldn't decipher, that had his eyes paradoxically darkening and opening at the same time. Maybe she had been right before. Maybe he was lonely. But as Tom looked at her, breath mingling with her own, she couldn't help but hope that he was starting to realize he wasn't.

"You know you can talk to me... right?" she muttered, licking her lips. "I mean, I know you probably have plenty of other more important people in your life that you can talk to, and I'm not trying to pry, but I just hope that you know that I'm here if—"

And just like that, Tom Ryder kissed her.

#falling without a harness #tom ryder #tom ryder x ofc #original female character #tom ryder imagine #series #the fall guy fanfic #the fall guy #the fall guy series #colt seavers

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0aurelion-sol0 · 4 months

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What do you want or expect Will's arc to be?

Well, again I'm sorry but this is something I cannot go over too extensively as I will talk about it in future posts at some point but regardless I will try to give an answer to your ask.

I am going to elaborate on what I think The Duffers will do first and what I want/think should happen after that.

We know from that Variety article that released back in August 2023 that Will is going to take center stage again in season 5 and that I quote “This emotional arc for him is what we feel is going to hopefully tie the whole series together. Will is used to being the young one, the introverted one, the one that’s being protected. So part of his journey, it’s not just sexuality — it’s Will coming into his own as a young man.” says Ross Duffer.

Now what I think is important to take from that quote and that part of the article is the part where they say that they hope his emotional arc is what is going to tie the whole story together which means they value, in some way, that Will's story as a whole, not just his sexuality, is going to be what gives the conclusion to the story of Stranger Things. They did not say [one of the things], they said [the thing] *wink wink*. Now between what The Duffers say and what they actually do, there is a gap but I do think that is a bold statement when you're about to enter your final season.

Because sure, I do think Will is more important than the series has led us to think but at it's core, it remains an ensemble type of show and is what was really happening during Season 1 & Season 2. Yes, there are stronger characters driving the story (and become way too present over others as the story progresses) & was first sold as the Winona Ryder show and after that the El show but it remained at it's core an ensemble show.

So for the Duffers to use Will, the character with the most inconsistent spotlight of the entire show apart from his brother, as the thing that ties the whole series together, that is bold cause as I said theories and biases aside, this is going to be a challenge and it is still a show that relies heavily on it's cast & characters to tell it's story. Now the way they do it and how well they do it is definitely up for debate but still.

There are for me, 4 main important parts of Will's character that are essential to his arc and for it to conclude well.

His homosexuality, what happened to him on November 6th, 1983, his connection to the Upside Down and his past.

Out of the 4 that I see The Duffers be very focused on for this final season, it's the two that are connected, his disappearance & his spider-sense because they have become very plot-focused as the series went on; they are going to have to explore his homosexuality, I don't see them doing something surprising or extremely developped with it anymore but they have kept that around and they are probably going to give a conclusion to it that's going to benefit the first two.

His past isn't going to be that explored much apart things linked to the first two and homosexuality but even then probably more in terms of vague mentions than anything really concrete. And it's because The Duffers, unless they pull something magnificent, have as of now and after everything they showed for the past two seasons have other priorities for want they want to explore which I don't think is the best choice for again, an ensemble show but it is what it is, and we need to be prepared for it.

I AM EAGER to be proven absolutely wrong but so far nothing has changed my mind about it, nothing has really alarmed me either which there's that at least.

So now what I want or think should happen...

About his homosexuality, his gayness, his rainbow-colored-emotional-state, his reddit is always scared of this debate, it's been there forever, it's obvious, I think if you're still in doubt about it, you need to go take a media literacy class, that boy is gay, that boy loves Mike Wheeler, let's end the debate. I'm sick of this fandom always turning endlessly on this subject, let's move on.

Now what do with it now, well the coming out, it's on everybody's lips these days, obviously, it's going to go to Joyce, Jonathan and the Party (mostly Mike, Dustin and Lucas). We are not going to talk about Byler, that's not the subject of today's post. I think overall, I don't see, for me, anything about Will's relationship with his sexuality that stops him from being out, at least to his close ones if not the world. The events that he went through outside and because of it, already ostracizes him from everyone else, including the ones he loves, that is just a fact and I think Will knows this & I don't think it's him being gay that is problematic for him, it's his very strong feelings for Mike that will probably be understood now by everyone and that will change the "nature" of them now but also acknowledging the lost innocence and naivity he experienced very very young even before the Upside Down stuff.

Because when Will comes out, it is not just him being gay that will come out, it's everything he went through because of it & he's going to start, in a way, healing from all it & that is sometimes just as tough as going through the trauma. And in a way, he kinda already started that process back in Season 4 so I think it would make sense for him to continue that path. It's going to be emotional, it would make sense and needs to be that way but to me the coming out definitely needs to be Joyce, Jonathan and as I said, Mike, Dustin & Lucas.

And I would like to be very clear, though I don't think it will be that much because ST & The Duffers have lost that touch for me, but I would like it to be very clear for him & the others and us, that he is gay, he likes boys and doesn't like girls, don't have to say it that direct but in a similar way because that's what a lot of queer people have to go through I think & it's actually verbalizing the fact that they are queer. Because we are going to have too much dumbasses still telling us he is not & it's important again for the representation be properly done in a satisfying way.

Next, his past, I think it would be essential to explore Will's trauma again because of his sexuality but also other elements of his character like the love he has for the arts, D&D, relationship he has with Lonnie & also violence because that is also important but I'll discuss that in another post. Because it would help us understand more about he & The Byers function as a whole but give us more depth & element to feel a satisfying conclusion to characters that have been left on the bench for quite some time now because if you talk about Will's past and issues, you will need to talk about Joyce's and Jonathan's past & issues and all the abuse they went through, which has become quite an important element to the plot now that hasn't been that well developed for all the characters and it would be nice if it starts being well developed.

Plus it leads to one of the reasons why he was taken AND not killed in 1983 which leads us to what is his connection to the UD now... and before. 👀

Because if the emotional arc of Will is important to tie the whole series together, it's important for the supernatural arc too & that opens interesting threads that I can't get into this post now.

After that, I think the climate of Season 5 needs to show us a more hardened Will, one that'll force Will to get his hands dirty to survive and to protect the group as well, while also fighting against things from his past that may be quite important for him with how he perceives and react to violence or danger. I would like to see a Will that's not always and has wants & needs that don't align for everyone & goes against the bigger geopolitical groups that are fighting including the supernatural ones. OH YES! I am going there!

Him being a villain would not make sense and would be a no no for me, but sometimes falling on the grey sides of things would make sense and would be so enjoyable for me. Especially against the threat that's looming on everyone in Season 5.

Also possibly drawing a parallel to what he experienced in 1983, because he survived in some way and we're going to need to explore that in the present. Will might likely be the most useful person to have in a UD infested environment. And him realising that he is useful is going to force him to go back to what happened and why that happened to help the best way he can, because if there's anything that boy knows how to do better than anyone else on this, it's self-sabotaging for the greater good.

Again, it's a snowball effect, if you do one thing you're going to have to do and explore another, to me, they are linked. Are the Duffers going to do that ? I'm unsure. But that's what makes sense to me.

So here's your answer, sorry if it's a bit vague but I will be exploring this in many different posts in the future.

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assmeffect · 5 months

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Mass Effect Men, driving HCs

women here

Kaidan: listen, everyone who claims Canadians are so polite and demure has never seen one drive. years of pent up anger come out when Kaidan drives. no where near as bad as Zaeed, he still follows the rules and laws. extremely animated when raging, and comes up with the most creative insults.

Garrus: as much as garrus loves to rib Shepard about their driving, he's barely any better. his time at c-sec at least drilled basic rules of the road into him, but he's still an asshole who'll cut people off.

Thane: prefers to drive in complete silence, maybe plays some white noise while he drives. do not try talking to him he's not listening. very careful on the road, hasn't been in an accident once.

Jacob: generally a good driver, just doesn't use his turn signals. good at multitasking while driving, so talking, listening to the radio, eating, he can do it. will gladly take the role of designated driver

Mordin: I think he hates driving, he get too in his own thoughts and forgets he's driving. would rather let shepard drive than do the driving

Zaeed: worst driver here. worse than Shepard in that he doesn't even try to follow the rules of the road. his road rage is horrific, has fully gotten out of his car to fist fight someone. would drive a pickup with trucknuts.

Cortez: best driver here. very relaxed when driving, very in his element. this man is a Saint on the road, not an ounce of road rage in his body

Vega: it's a miracle he hasn't been killed, he never wears a seatbelt, never uses his turn signals, and pulls illegal turns all the time. drives with his windows open and radio absolutely blasting music.

Joker: would be the best driver if he wasn't such a jackass. regularly flips off other drivers he thinks are being stupid. thinks he's the best driver on the road, and he is, just don't tell him that

Jaal: has an angaran license, though I don't think he drives a traditional vehicle. more along the lines of some sort of atv or motorcycle type thing. a good driver, has definitely modified his vehicle.

Liam: I honestly don't think he has a license. he prefers public transit or to let other people drive. he's not that great of a driver when he does though.

Gil: has zooped up his car and treats it like his baby. will not let anyone else drive it, ESPECIALLY not Ryder. will fight someone if they hit his car. follows the rules of the road religiously.

Reyes: Street races, will try and goad other people into street racing. has lost his license multiple times. amazingly enough has never crashed.

#mass effect #mass effect writing #kaidan alenko #garrus vakarian #jacob taylor #thane krios #mordin solus #zaeed massani #steve cortez #joker #jeff moreau #james vega #jaal ama darav #liam kosta #gil brodie #reyes vidal #mass effect 2 #mass effect 3 #mass effect andromeda

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youremyheaven · 7 months

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Jisoo: Kibbe Analysis

i've covered all the other Blackpink girlies so i thought its time i did Jisoo!!

She's officially 5'3 but i think she's actually probably 5'1.

She's trim and small ish with angular edges. Her arms and legs are short-ish (in proportion to her body). She's small but still a little broad.

Kibbe describes Soft Gamine body type as follows:

Soft, curvy body tends toward fleshiness. Curved bustline and hips with some natural waist definition. Arms and legs tend to be soft and fleshy, particularly through the hip and thigh areas.

I have noticed with SGs in particular how they tend to have prominent hips or more pear-shaped bodies. This does not have to mean super exaggerated pear shaped ig baddie type figure, just that their hips are broader than their shoulders

Jisoo has wide hips, fleshy thighs, some waist definition but relatively small shoulders.

The outfit on the left flatters her more than the one on the right.

She has relatively shorter limbs, as SGs do (in proportion to their body) and like most SGs she's very petite at 5'1

Here's Jisoo with some verified SGs (L to R, Winona Ryder, Reese Witherspoon, Halle Berry, Sally Field)

SGs bone structure is described as delicate but angular. All these ladies have smaller features but they're also slightly angular. They're not completely baby-faced. They have well defined noses, cheekbones and jawlines.

SGs gain most of their weight in their arms, hips and thighs and face.

Even when they're thin, they look healthy because they have a rounded body shape paired with short limbs.

Most of these outfits kinda look ??? on her, except the second black dress which is tea length which is like THE Gamine recc. Long lines, layers, clashing patterns, lack of waist definition all drown Soft Gamines.

The first couple of outfits where she's in long trousers kind of hides her frame and since she's already very petite, it kind of looks like the clothes are wearing her and not the other way around.

Compare that to any of these other looks (esp the black fitted blazer with double braids for Dior) she shines in these Gamine lewkzz!!

Gamine outfits flatter her so much!! which is to say that shorter, more tailored pieces with waist definition look bomb af on her.

I have seen some people say she's an SN but there's no way she could be one, she does not have the width at all and she's so obviously an SG???

Jisoo has Romantic, Gamine & Natural essences.

#jisoo #kibbe #soft gamine #blackpink #kibbe analysis #essences

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wickedslip · 5 days

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𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 :

Comfort food(s):

Anything spicy, anything Mexican or Italian cuisine, anything with avocado (including avocado by themselves—lightly salted YUM), anything vegan. But I also love every piece of fruit under the sun. I prefer snacking on fruit than ever to something sugary and full of carbs. I mean fruit DOES have sugar, but it’s the natural kind. I definitely prefer fruits like mango, tangerine, and all the berries—strawberry, blueberry, blackberry raspberry (as long as they aren’t too soft).

Comfort drink(s):

Okay let’s see here. Banana milkshakes. Cider. Cinnamon chai lattes with little star anise pieces to garnish. Anything from Twining’s because that’s my favorite tea brand. Major win if it’s the apple one that I spoke about earlier. Orange juice! Especially the Simply Orange. I have it every weekend with these yummy vegan avocado breakfast bagels that I learned from Madeliene Petsch’s YouTube vid. I love coffee of all types and varieties. In the autumn season I love going to coffee houses and getting their version of a pumpkin spice latte or something seasonal to that effect.

Comfort movie(s):

Okay I am gonna say anything horror. So we have the Scream movies, any kind of vampire movie but especially Bram Stoker’s Dracula (the 1992 one with Oldman and Ryder), I love the vintage Ouija board movies, that are called Witchboard and Witchboard II. I watched the sequel first and fell for it. Let’s see…. The Craft, The Lost Boys, Hocus Pocus, The Witch, Practical Magic, Suspria, The Crucible, The Love Witch. Labyrinth! Like you should see my electronic video collection it’s horrendous. AHHH how could I forget! WUTHERING HEIGHTS MY BELOVED. All The Omen movies! Oh and I love The Nun, and Immaculate was bad ass. I have Killjoy to thank for my new love of Hereditary! I have watched it at least once a month since lol.

Comfort show(s):

There are too many to count here. The first one I am gonna mention is Netflix’s Dracula. I love that rendition, there is nothing I would change and he is exactly as Stoker had in mind for him: THE DAMN VILLAIN. SOOOO GOOD. But let’s see here: The Vampire Diaries (seasons 1-3), The Secret Circle (please bring it back or I’ll riot), Wednesday, The Originals, American Horror Story. Salem (the one with Mary Sibley where I got MOST inspiration of Nausi’s lore), oh and I love Dracula NBC, that one was honestly so good! But you can’t go wrong with the horror genre. It’s my fave.

Comfort clothing:

My black Victoria Secret track pants and my much-loved sweatshirt that matches perfectly with it. Jeans and oversized hoodies. Tanks and jeans in the summertime! Cute dresses with leather jackets and ankle boots. I love comfort but I also love style tooooo.

Comfort song(s):

Gravedigger by MXMS. Morbid Fasciation by The Blood Red Shoes. Anything by Ethel Cain. Any and all gothic rock such as Depeche Mode, Bauhaus, The Cure. I love Bad Omens and Bring Me The Horizon and there are far too many songs to list. I am also a metalcore girl so I love Killswitch Engage, As I Lay Dying, Bullet For My Valentine, All That Remains. Seriously I could go on forever.

Comfort book(s):

Wuthering Heights. Dracula. The Vampire Diaries Books 1-4. The Secret Circle Books 1-3. Honestly (mostly) anything from L.J. Smith is fantastic. Deathless. Shadow and Bone. I am a sucker for gothic romances, and nobody can tell me otherwise. Dark poetry such as Segovia Amil and Rupi Kaur. White Oleander. Salt is for Curing. Stephen King. The House of the Seven Gables. There’s also about a thousand books that didn’t make this list but it’s because I am losing brain power.

Comfort game(s):

guys------ lmao. I am not a gamer. I will watch you all play your game of choice. But I will NOT do it. It’s just not my hobby and never has been. But please talk about it, go to town on it, etc.

#「 𝒅𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔. ⛧ ❛ fragile like a flower ━ fragile like a bomb. ❜ 」

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readingismyhappyplacee · 2 years

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Kiss, Marry, Kill.

Summary: You go to a Halloween party where your crush happens to be, but something goes wrong.

Warnings: Foul language, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol, and smoking. Probably 16+.

Class just let out, the bell signalling the end of the block and the end of the day for all students. It was Friday and Y/N was exhausted. Her studies have been keeping her busy and she had little to no down time lately. Her professors non the less didn’t care that she was swamped with homework so there was absolutely no use asking for help or even for extensions. They just wouldn’t understand her struggles.

Y/N met her closest friends, Maisie and Kat at her locker, eyeing the text in the group chat that read:

Y/N’s locker, pronto! - Kat

She started the route to her locker. The hallway was thinning as she passed students who just wanted to get home. Some were in costumes but most were too embarrassed to wear something so obvious. She could see the top of a witch hat in the distance and laughed. Kat loved to dress up. She was extremely talented in makeup and used halloween as a chance to show off her skills on a more extreme level. Y/N and Maisie on the other hand, followed suit with the rest of the school, opting more so on earrings or a pair of animal ears. As she approached her two best friends, she could pick out the almost sinister grins on their faces.

“What is with that look you two? What do you know that I don’t? Spill.” She said.

“Well… A little birdie told me you-know-who is gonna be at the party tonight!” Maisie answered first. Kat giggled, “we overheard in English, all his friends are going too!” She gave Maisie a glance.

“And why would that be a big deal?” Y/N teased.

“Oh come on! You’ve been in love with him forever! Don’t play dumb!”

“No I mean why would his friends be a big deal, yeah now i’m nervous, I didn’t think he would be there, I guess i’ve thought about it before but - NO MAISIE WHO IS IT NOW?” Y/N groaned. Maisie gave a small giggle. She has a tendency to move on to a different guy every month. First it was a senior that she had never talked to before, then it was a coworker at Save-on and you get the idea. Though apparently the cycle has never ended as long as Y/N knew her. Maisie definitely had a type and stuck to it. Tall, brunette, rich and into cars. Unfortunately school doesn’t have that many of the sort to choose from.

“Let me guess Maisie, is it Ryder?”

She faked a swoon, “Oh how did you guess so easily?”

“Girl, he drives a Beamer, of course you’re into him.”

“Ha. Fair point” She shrugged.

Y/N zoned out of the conversation. All she could think about was C/N and the possibilities of what tonight would hold. Sure they’ve talked a number of times and shared a few classes, but there was no way that he harboured the same feelings. She could daydream all she wanted about him and his fluffy hair, how strong he was or how smart he was, but what is the use if he wouldn’t do the same? He’s all a girl could ask for.

After gathering their belongings to take home for the weekend, the three friends walked to Maisie’s house to get ready for the party. The trio was extremely excited to show off their costume idea they had been brewing up for weeks. It was Kat’s idea: Kiss, Marry and Kill. Y/N was kiss, she wore a red skirt with a lace corset, red lipstick and eyeshadow (that Kat had to apply for her), a heart headband, and red lipstick marks on both cheeks, courtesy of Maisie. She looked like Valentine’s Day on the red carpet. Maisie was marry, short white dress and veil, bouquet of fireball shots on sticks, white gloves and a daring pair of heels. Kat was kill. She loved dressing in black. Her makeup was changed to black eyeshadow, eyeliner and lipstick. She wore a black strapless dress that was certainly not school appropriate. To finish it off she put fake blood along her neck to articulate a knife slash and tucked a fake plastic knife into the band of her dress. Each girl has their respective word on their chest in hopes people would understand to some degree of what they were going for.

After snapping a couple pictures for Insta later, and eating dinner, the girls hopped in a taxi to the party.

“Who’s house is it again?” Maisie questioned, booze already in hand.

“Cash. I texted him earlier, he has a bonfire outside. Fuck we forgot chairs!” Y/N laughed at Kat’s outburst.

The atmosphere wasn’t too cold for late October. The stars were out and the taxi passed tons of trick-or-treaters on the road. It was the perfect weather for Halloween night and the excitement only grew in Y/N’s core. She couldn’t wait to get drunk and maybe sneak a few glances at C/N. As the girls neared the party, the sound of music and partygoers could be heard and the giant bonfire blast a vibrant light against the trees surrounding the property. Y/N and her friends weren’t really dressed for a cold night, but the fire would suffice.

Thanking the taxi driver, the girls hopped out and walked down the long driveway. Y/N instantly regretted her choice of heels. When they arrived amidst the chaos, Y/N was immediately abandoned by her best friends for boys and drinks.

“Bitches.” She muttered under her breath. She found the drinks table and poured herself a cup. She grazed her eyes along the group of young people. Most were already hammered and dancing to the music. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted C/N. He was standing with his friends wearing a Toad costume. His bare chest was out for the world to see between the character’s vest and she could feel the heat coming to her cheeks. He had a mushroom hat on to finish the simple but cute costume. She would always be able to pick him out of a crowd. Y/N was interrupted in her thoughts by a figure clad in a Starbucks uniform.

“Hey Daniel, have you seen Kat anywhere?” She asked. Daniel slowly turned around, he was definitely drunk.

“Huh?” He managed to get out between sips. She took the cup away for a second.

“Kat? Where is she?”

“Oh hey Y/N what’s up bro, fuck I don’t know, probably over with Brad, heard they’ve been fucking. Can I have my drink back now? My song is playing.” He slurred.

“Every song is your song.” She laughed, handing his drink back.

Daniel walked towards the fire, leaving the girl alone again. She began looking for Brad. She knew he was one of C/N’s friends and she began to look for the group of boys again. Kat was so getting yelled at when they were both sober. She never talks about who she’s hooking up with! She quickly spotted C/N and his friends again, standing near the fire. Kat was there too, flirting with Brad in an obnoxious way.

“Bitch! Thanks for ditching me so soon!” Y/N greeted.

“Hey bitch! Sorry, Brad told me he brought me the good stuff!” She held up a lit joint, then passed it around the circle again. “You should join in!”

“Kat, you know I don’t smoke.”

“Fuck. Right. Sorry.”

“Y/N are you like cupid or something?” Austen, another friend of C/N’s looked her up and down.

“No i’m supposed to be kiss, as in like, kiss marry kill, you know?”

“Ha shit that’s clever! So are you just kissing whoever tonight or do I have to cut the line?” Austen gave her a flirty smile. Shit this was awkward, C/N was literally standing right there. She glanced at him slightly before answering.

“Uh, well no, ha ha. It’s just for the pun.”

“C’mon Y/N, you’re hot, I’m hot, it’s meant to be.” He leaned down over her, and man was he close to her face.

“And you’re tits look so good in that - hey!”

“She said no Austen, back off.” C/N stepped in, forcefully pushing Austen away from the girl and out of the circle. Y/N’s dropped her drink in surprise. A couple ‘ooh’s’ could be heard from the remainder of the group. The people nearby swarmed to see what the small commotion was about. Y/N’s cheeks burned. She didn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, but at least she wasn’t cold anymore.

“Fuck off dude, she’s free reign. I don’t see no fucking boyfriend around? Huh? Is it you pretty boy? Didn’t think so. Let me have her.” Austen moved back into the circle, glaring at C/N and glancing at Y/N again. He was so intoxicated it was scaring her. She didn’t know what to say so she moved to stand with Kat a few feet farther away.

“She said no man, leave her alone.” Ryan stepped in to help deescalate the situation. Grabbing his Austen’s shoulders and attempting to pull him towards a different area of the party. He was ashamed of his best friends behaviour.

“I just want a fucking kiss! Hey Y/N! Meet me behind the house and we can fuck too!”

Much to Y/N’s surprise, C/N punched Austen in the nose, knocking him to the ground. Stunned but not stopped, Austen stood up, wiped the blood from dripping into his mouth and punched C/N square in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards a few feet. Ryan quickly jumped between the two.

“Enough you little shits. Austen go clean your fucking face you look hideous.”

Angry to the boiling point, Austen stormed off to the house to use the bathroom. C/N, winded slightly, sat in a chair near the fire to calm down. Suddenly Maisie appeared to join her best friends as the crowd dispersed.

“Oh my god, Y/N what happened? We’re you hurt, I didn’t think this would involve you! I thought it was just the boys being boys again! You poor thing!” Maisie got white girl drunk, but also acted like the mom friend she usually is.

“I’m fine Mais, really. It was C/N that got hit. Austen was not leaving me alone.”

“Oh my god you should like, totally thank him, in like, a different way, if you know what I mean!” She suggestively stated.

“Maisie now is not the time. Sorry Y/N, maybe that costume wasn’t so great after all.” Kat joined in, seemingly more sober than before.

“I’m fine guys. I’m gonna go find him now and see if he’s alright.” Y/N brushed it off, only focused on the one boy that always consumes her thoughts.

“Wear protection!” Maisie screamed over the sound of the music. Y/N shot her a menacing look. She found C/N in a chair at the backside of the fire, farthest away from where the quarrel occurred. Only a few people were around that area. As she approached, C/N looked up at her.

“Hi.” He said.

“Hi. Thank you for sticking up for me. I’m not good in those types of situations and I’m glad you were there to stop him, well, sort of. Are you okay?” She glanced at his chest and then to his eyes. A quick blush adorned her face once again.

“It was nothing I promise and I’m okay, he’s not that strong anyways. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Thank god though, I really didn’t want to kiss him.”

“Would you kiss me?”

Suddenly, the world stopped. Suddenly, there was no blasting music, or drunk people around her. Suddenly, there was no sense of hot or cold and all was forgotten about Austen. There was only her and C/N.

“What?” She breathed, mouth agape.

“Here come sit.” He patted his lap once while looking at her. She silently accepted, sitting on his lap facing him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked politely. “I promise I’m not like that guy.”

Y/N nodded, too stunned to speak. C/N smiled down at her. He lifted her chin up with his hand and placed his lips onto hers. Y/N felt like she was on top of the moon. His lips were everything she imagined and more, but with a slight taste of the mango White Claw he was drinking previously. Holy shit this was happening. She placed her arms around his neck and silently prayed this wasn’t a dream. The kiss only broke when air was needed again. Her hands found his bare chest.

“See? I’m much more classy. A chair rather than behind a house!” He grinned, forehead against her forehead. Y/N gave him a joking slap.

“Don’t put that idea in my head again!” She laughed. C/N gave her another peck before leaning into her ear. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” Y/N blushed instantly.

“Thanks. Your costume is pretty cute too.” She replied.

“Had to get your attention somehow, but it happened another way instead.”

“Let’s go get another drink.” She smiled at him. She got up and C/N followed her through to the group where Y/N stopped for a moment.

“I’m not sure Kat, I think this costume was the perfect choice.” She looked at her best friend, then at C/N and smiled. She grabbed his hand and led him to the drinks table to enjoy the rest of the night together.

#crushxreader #crush #imagine #crush imagine #halloween #halloween party #protective #xreader #reader #crushimagines #crush imagines #crush x reader imagine

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