#Vans House Parties

[ilikecrocssuckit]

Attention Middle Earth Fans!

Please check out this Kickstarter for a travel show wherein the host, Mary Kate Wiles, will be traveling to at least 3 different houses in the US wherein the owners have made them look like Hobbit houses. There are many more than you might think!

There's a pilot episode available on Mary Kate's YouTube channel right now! Link to that right here! It has classic Travel Channel vibes, particularly reminiscent of Samantha Brown to me personally.

And if Mary Kate looks familiar to you, it's because in addition to being a known immense Tolkien fan, she's also an actress! You may know her from

The Lizzie Bennet Diaries

Spies Are Forever

Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party

Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story

And more! This is a passion project for her and I think it's a really cool one. I know I'd love to stay in a Hobbit house someday and it'll be nice to know what I'd be getting into if I did. Please consider checking out the Kickstarter and supporting it if you can!

“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

[housefullofnuns]

The votes are in and yall said yes to voting on my band shirts. So we're gonna find out which is the best one I own! We'll start with two similar styles.

[workingforthewidow]

‘What you were wearin’ on the first night we met’

Welcome to part 2 of the Sun to Me series.

This story is NSFW and not for minors- if you are under 18 go ask your legal guardian if you can watch the movie.

Warnings: kidnapping, forced marriage, dub-con, attempted non-con, abuse, Stockholm syndrome, age gap (15 years- K&C are 19 Sinclairs are 33 soon to be 34 yes we will have a birthday party for them). Don’t like it don’t read it,

Proof read quickly. It’s 9pm and I’m about to sleep but wanted to get this out! I will proofread again in the morning!

Please reblog! I love seeing what y’all comment and tag :)

Request open see the pinned post for guidelines!

—

‘Oh my goodness why is it so hot? Sure it’s the middle of August but damn it shouldn’t be this hot. Ow fuck why does my head hurt?’ The thoughts swirled around Katie’s brain as she slowly came back into consciousness. She felt a weight around her neck and reached her hand up to feel metal encircling her throat. Her eyes opened and she took in the room around her. She was on a mattress on the floor and the metal around her neck was attached to the wall like she was a dog on chain. She looked down to see she was wearing her clothes. But the small joy disappeared when she realized they weren’t the clothes she had earlier. Someone had gone through her bag and changed her clothes.

The room was dimly lit with candles everywhere. That explained the heat. She could barely see around farther than 5 feet away. She looked around and couldn’t see or hear Caroline anywhere. Panic started to fill her body. Her breathing started to quicken.

“CAROLINE! CAROLINE!” She started screaming hoping to get some idea of where her sister was. She kept screaming her name until she heard a door swing open.

She pushed herself back as far against the wall as she could fear taking over the panic filling her. Tears filled her eyes as long jean clad legs came into view. Her eyes trailed up to see man with long black hair wearing an expressionless mask staring down at her.

“My sister, where is my sister?” She chocked out a sobbing beg.

The man continued to look at her before pulling out a notepad from his pocket and writing on it. Then he held it down to her.

~She is safe. So are you.~ He took back and began writing again.

“Why am I here? What are you doing to us?” She whispered though her sobs.

The man continued writing.

~I will explain later. I am going to get you food you have been asleep for 10 hours. Are you allergic to anything? Or your sister? Bo probably won’t think to ask that.~

Katie’s head spun again. So this guy and Bo knew each other. Maybe this guy was the owner of the museum, it would make sense seeing as it looked like this mask was made of wax.

“We can’t eat seafood. Fish or shellfish of any kind. But that’s it.” She said trying to hold back the tears. She thought back to all the crime shows she had watched, maybe if she went along things will be okay.

The man nodded and patted her head awkwardly like he didn’t know how to act around her. Maybe she was the first person he had ever held hostage. The man then turned and walked back of the room leaving Katie alone. Her only thoughts were on Caroline before she passed out again.

When she woke again there was a paper plate with what looked to be a peanut butter sandwich and chips, and a bottle of water set out next to her. Along with was a note with her name on it, spelled wrong but she knew it was meant for her. She opened the water bottle and was relieved when it popped like a fresh bottle does. ‘Okay so it’s most likely not poisoned.’ She thought picking up the sandwich noting it looked and smelled fine. She took a drink and started eating while she read over the note left for her.

~You are safe I promise. I do not plan to kill you. Your sister is safe as well. Bo won’t kill her.~ Kill it said kill not hurt, so maybe they did plan to hurt the girls. ~My name is Vincent, Bo is my twin. Whatever you need I will get for you just tell me. I hope you can learn to like it here and feel like it is your home. You are mine now and I will take care of you. Just be good and I can be good to you. I will be a good husband for you, my angel.~

‘Oh my god. Oh my god. They want wives? Why us?’ Her tears came flowing out again. Hadn’t enough bad things happened to them? First their parents die and they have to sell their house. This trip was suppose to be a fresh start. Drive to the coast and find a little place for the two of them. But now two psychos planned on keeping them.

Her sobs were so loud she didn’t hear the door open or Vincent’s footsteps as he approached. It wasn’t until he put his hand on her chin making her up to him did she notice him. She jumped and tried to move away from his touch but he tightened his grip on her chin holding her in place.

“Please, can I see Caroline? Please. We, we’ve never been this long without talking to each other.” She begged and pleaded with him.

He shook his head and used his other hand to brush at her hair which had fallen out of place sometime during her sleep.

Okay if she couldn’t see Caroline she at least needed to move a little, her legs were going to go to mush if she didn’t use them.

“Okay, umm can I take a shower and use the restroom? Please.” She tacked the please on at the end hoping it would better her chances. He looked at her and at the door and nodded slowly. He reached in his pocket and took out a key. He undid the metal collar around her throat and took her hand to help her stand.

“Thank you.” She said it barely above a whisper. He lead to other side of the room she hadn’t been able to see before. Her suitcase was there- so she was right he had her things. He pointed to the suitcase and she opened it getting some clean underwear and a bra, blood rushing to her cheeks as she quickly grabbed a purple satin set. Why did she let Caroline help her pick her clothes?

She went to grab her jeans but he stopped her, pulling out one of her dresses, a simple purple dress. Okay so this is how the game is going to be played. She could play along, so far he hadn’t physically hurt her or done anything immoral (besides kidnapping). She could play nice and work to find Caroline and get out of this hell. Away from the twin demons.

Once she had clothes in her hands, he put his hand on her back and led her down a hallway into a bathroom. Her toiletry bag already on the little shelf above the toilet.

The man, Vincent, looked at her then pointed to a watch on his wrist before holding up both hands then one hand. It took her a minute but she got it.

“I have 15 minutes?” He nodded and went to close the door and glared at her. “You’re going to stand at the door and wait for me?” She guessed again earning another nod. She nodded back and as soon as the door was closed started the water as hot as she could make it. While the water warmed she used the toilet realizing it had been well over 24 hours since the last time she had been able to use one. Once the water was hot she stepped in, and in an effort to conserve time she brought her toothbrush and brushed her teeth while she wet her hair. Not seeing any soap or shampoo she took the little travel bottles from her bag. Hopefully this Vincent man would get her some more if he really did plan on keeping her.

She showered as quickly as she could and climbed out of the shower drying off with the towel that had been hanging on a hook. She got dressed and brushed her wet hair highly doubting there would be a hair dryer anywhere. She looked in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised to see that she didn’t look completely awful. Sure her eyes were red and a little swollen from all the tears but maybe her mama was right, a good shower is good for the soul. She took one last look and opened the door.

True to his word Vincent was standing in front of the door, his back facing her. He turned and looked her up and down. He took her hand a walked her back to the room she was in before. But instead of going to the bed he sat her in a chair before standing behind her. She had no idea what was going to happen and her breath began to quicken. It slowed when she felt a brush being gently pulled through her hair, his hands even gentler than her own. After a few minutes he stopped and started parting her hair. It took her a moment but she realized he was braiding it. She stayed silent waiting for him to finish. She felt him drop her hair and then felt his fingers tracing the lines of some of the tattoos on her shoulders. His touch was light like a feather. Once he was done he awkwardly patted her head again and took her hand bring her back to the mattress.

While walking the short distance Katie felt her hair and noted he had done an amazing job at a double French braid held together at the end with what felt like average rubber bands. She would have to get her hair-ties from her bag and try to get him to use those if this would be common practice. She wondered if his mother had taught him to braid or he taught himself with his long hair. They got to the bed and he gestured for her to sit back down. Her eyes widened when he took the metal collar in hand, “Please, I promise I won’t run or do anything stupid. It… it… hurts. Please.” The tears had returned, running down her freshly cleaned face.

Vincent cocked his head looking at her and she assumed he weighing his options. He moved to another area in the room and she could hear him rummaging around some boxes. He returned seconds later with handcuffs. He held them in one hand and the metal collar in the other, giving her the choice. She didn’t trust her voice not to crack from the sobs and pointed to the handcuffs before holding her arms up, praying he didn’t make her put them behind her back. Thankfully he took her arms in front of her and locked the cuffs into place before pushing her, forcing her to lay down. Once he was sure she’d stay he walked away again before returning with his notepad and pen.

“Oh umm, you spelled my name wrong.” She said carefully, hoping her tone conveyed that she wasn’t upset or mad. Maybe having a somewhat normal conversation with him would help her situation. It was a pretty common mistake for someone to misspell her name. “You spelled it like how Captain Janeway spells her name. But my name is spelled like Catherine Zeta-Jones.” She couldn’t see his face but she could feel his confusion. “Oh um those pop culture references but I guess y’all don’t get much tv or movies out here. My name is spelled C-a-t-h-e-r-i-n-e not K-a-t-h-r-y-n, it happens all the time. I just thought since I’m living here now and all I should tell you. But if you want to call me Katie that’s fine. Most people do. And that is spelled with a K, K-a-t-i-e.”

Vincent nodded and scribbled down his reply, ~I like Catherine. Pretty name for a pretty girl. I will talk to Bo and see if you can see Caroline tomorrow. Do you want dinner?~

Caroline. He would let her see Caroline. That meant she was alive right? He couldn’t be that cruel as to give her false hope. “Thank you. I really just want to sleep. If that’s okay. There’s just so much going on.” It was then she realized she didn’t even know what time or even what day it was. She was in a basement of some sort with no clocks or windows.

Vincent nodded and wrote once more, ~Sleep would be good for you. I will be in the next room working. If you need anything come to me. I will know if you try to leave and it will not end well for you or your sister.~

Katie’s eyes tears up again, she hoped soon her tears would dry up, “Okay. I promise I will be here.” He stayed for a few minutes and watched her as she fell asleep before going back to his studio.

—

Caroline could feel pressure on her wrist and on her ankles. She tried wiggling them to no avail. Her eyes slowly opened but quickly widen when she took in her surroundings. She was in some kind of doctors chair with her hands and feet secured down. She couldn’t see Katie anywhere.

“Katie! Catherine!” She screamed hoping her sister would come out of somewhere.

“Baby if you wanna keep that tongue in your pretty little mouth you better shut the fuck up.” She heard a voice above her and looked up to see a sewer grate and the mechanic, Bo, standing over it. “I’ll be down there in a minute, you just calm down.”

Calm down? How the hell could she calm down? She was tied down in a basement and her sister was missing! What was she suppose to do? Katie had always been the one with the plans. Katie would know what to do. Thinking of her twin made the tears really start coming down her cheeks. Was she dead? Had he hurt her?

While these thoughts floated in her head she heard the door being pushed open and watched as Bo walked in like he didn’t have a worry in the world.

“Good morning baby. Slept a lot longer than ya sister. Heard her crying to Vinny already.” Katie was alive. Caroline didn’t say anything as Bo got closer to her and brushed her hair away from where it had fallen in her face. “Stop wiggling. Gonna mess up your wrist. Now if you promise to be good I’ll take the cuffs off. Let you eat and take a shower.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife.

Caroline looked to him with fear filled eyes and nodded.

“Wanna hear your words baby. Be a nice girl and use your manners.”

“Please take the cuffs off. I promise I’ll be good.” Her voice was soft and quiet like she was thinking over each word she said before saying it.

Bo smirked at her and carefully slid his knife under the duct tape undoing her wrist and ankles. He offered her his hand and helped her stand up, “Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now was it? Come ‘ere. Got your suitcase from your car. Picked a nice little outfit for you.” He lead her through a long hallway to a small bathroom. Her bathroom bag and a stack of clothes sat on the edge of the sink.

Bo pushed her in, following behind her, and closed the door.

“You have 15 minutes. After that I’m opening the door. Your choice if you want an audience yet or not.” He said holding her face to keep her eyes on his. “Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, 15 minutes. I understand.” He seemed to take that answer and stepped out of the room.

She made quick work of the using the restroom and getting in the shower. She tried to think of what was happening but all her thoughts lead her back to Katie. Trying to distract herself, she almost started her hair routine but cringed when she realized that was a mistake. It took her 10 minutes to get through the whole thing and that didn’t include washing her body or anything else. Maybe she was faster than she thought. If she had at least 10 minutes she could just do the routine quickly and hope the shampoo falling from her hair would be enough to wash her body for now.

“Bo?” She called softly hoping he wouldn’t open the door, “How much time do I have?”

“9 minutes.” His replied was muffled by the door.

Okay she could do it. She started the routine quickly running through all the steps. She finished and grabbed the towel off the sink drying herself before getting dress. Just as she was finishing putting on her bra and underwear, a soft baby pink matching lace set, the door swung open revealing a very happy looking Bo.

He let out a whistle and looked her over, pausing at her chest for longer than she liked. “Guess I do get a show today. Look at you didn’t expect to see all that on you.” He gestured to her tattoo covered body.

“Katie’s a tattoo artist and a seamstress. I do hair and makeup. We practice on each other. Hers is just a bit more permanent.” Caroline was suddenly very aware of how little clothing she had on. “Can I get dressed now? Please, sir.” She asked batting her eyelashes innocently. He said wanted a nice girl with manners and she’d be sure to use all the training her southern belle mama had put her through. Katie may have more book smarts than she did but Caroline knew how to play a man.

Bo’s smirk somehow got even darker than it already was, “Now look at that. She does have manners. I like that baby, you can keep that up. Put your clothes on hurry up. Need to eat.”

She took the clothes off the sink feeling his eyes watching her every move. She was expecting her tiny shorts and a crop top but he had taken one of her dresses. She pulled it one and tried to get the zipper up her back but failed. She tried again and huffed when she couldn’t get it.

“Let me do it baby.” His fingers moved down her spine slowly enjoying how soft her skin was. He easily pulled the zipper and moved her wet hair over one of her shoulders. Bending down he kissed the other shoulder where it met her neck.

“Thank you.” She said trying to keep up the act. She decided to try her hand at a request to see what she could get, “Can I… can I, please, dry my hair? Or can you do it? My dress will get messed up if it get wet. My hair supplies bag is in my suitcase.” She looked up at the mirror in front of her and caught his gaze. He was smirking again.

He kissed her neck again and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her back to his chest. “I guess since you asked so nicely I’ll let you. Can’t have my pretty little wife walking around in messed up clothes.”

Caroline felt like she was going to vomit. Wife. What the fuck was this psycho talking about? She was so wrapped in her head she didn’t even notice he had left the room and came back with things. She went to grab them but he held them in one hand high above his head. He was at least a foot taller than her so the objects were far from her reach.

“If you want them you gotta pay the price baby.” He pulled her against his chest and pressed his lips to hers. Her first reaction was to pull away but she reminded herself to play along. She let him kiss her, letting him move his lips against hers, and when his tongue traced along the seam of her lips she let him in.

He finally pulled away after what felt like a lifetime, “Good girl. Do that curly thing again. I like that and keep it down.” She nodded and started drying her hair trying to do it as quickly as possible.

Bo stood in the doorway blocking her in just in case she decided to be brave and get away from him. Damn she was pretty. His pretty little housewife. He had always wanted the perfect family. Pretty little wife to cook and clean while he went to work. He’d come home and she’d be waiting at the door for him beer in hand and a welcome home kiss while their kids ran up to him wanting hugs from their daddy. It would be perfect just like he dreamed.

“Bo…. Bo?” He didn’t hear her softly saying his name until she put her hand on his chest. “Are you okay? You looked as spaced out as I do when Katie starts going off about whatever book she’s reading.” She giggled softly thinking of her sister and Bo thought it was the prettiest music he had ever heard.

“Just fine, baby. Thinking about how pretty you are and what a good little wife and mama you’re gonna be.” He ran his hand through her soft curls happy she had followed his directions. “You promise to be good?”

He made it sound like he was going to offer something. She’d take anything she could get at the moment. “Yes, sir, I will be good.”

“Good girl. Gonna take you home now. Gotta lot of work for you and that sister of yours if Vincent lets her out of the studio.” He took her hand and led her out of the underground. Seeing sunlight was nice and feeling it against her skin was even better. They walked to his truck his hand holding hers tightly a sign for her not to run. He opened the truck door and helped her up before climbing in the driver side. He pulled her across the bench seat and wrapped one arm around her waist while driving with the other.

‘Play the game Caroline it’s just a game.’ She reminded herself to give her the courage to do what she was about to do.

She turned her head and pressed her lips to his cheek briefly, “Thank you, this is my favorite dress.” ‘Be calm and play the game.’ He’s a man, Mama always said all men what two things- food and sex. One she could do with ease, the other not so much. Mama raised them with the church to be good pure girls.

Bo took his arm from her waist and moved his hand to her thigh, squeezing a little harder then she was expecting. “You’re welcome baby. You keep being good and I’ll make sure you have everything your little heart wants.”

One more try, she would try one more time to see Katie today, “Can I see Katie yet? Please just for a minute.” She had been able to hold back the tears for a long time but finally thinking about her sister again made them flow.

Bo sighed and rolled his eyes gripping her thigh again. “Not right now. You make me a good lunch and start your housework and maybe I’ll think about it. Okay?”

She nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Luckily this time he didn’t make her speak it. Her voice would probably crack if she had to speak right now. Finally they made it to the house and he lead her inside to the kitchen.

He open the fridge and grabbed a beer, “Make whatever you want with what we got. Make a list of things you’ll need and I’ll have Lester pick them up next time he goes out to the city for supplies,” he noticed the confusing on her face at the mention of Lester, “Les is the youngest brother. Me and Vincent are twins but Mama said I’m the older one. Then Lester came 3 years later.” He didn’t know why he told her all that but maybe it was good he felt comfortable telling her about their family that fast. She was the new Sinclair matriarch in a sense. “Now get to cooking baby. You got a lot to learn to be a good little wife.”

She rummaged around the kitchen finding enough things to make chicken and beans. There didn’t seem to be a fruit or vegetable in the house at all. Those would be first on her list. While she moved around the kitchen finding things she needed to cook, Bo sat at the table with his beer and went over his expectations for his new ‘wife’.

1.) No leaving the house without him or one of his brothers being with her

2.) Make sure all meals are made on time. He can’t be late for work. (Caroline wondered how you can be late for work when you are the owner and boss.)

3.) When he comes home at the end of the day she was to be at the door waiting of him, smile on her face and beer in hand, ready for his welcome home kiss

4.) Make sure the house stays clean, can’t have anything dangerous out once babies start coming. But only rooms with the doors open. He closed all the rooms she wasn’t allowed in.

5.) If she sees anyone in town besides one of the boys she was not allowed to speak to them unless it was to direct them to the boys. As soon as the strangers were gone she was to go to their room and hide. And if she heard screams- no she didn’t.

“Get all that through your pretty head, baby?” He asked her while she plate his food and sat in front of him.

“Yes, stay home, cook, clean, don’t talk to strangers, beer and kiss when you come home.” Like a good southern wife. He didn’t have to tell her most of those rules her mama already had. Hopefully if her twin was with his twin he wasn’t wanting what Bo wanted. Katie didn’t grasp all this the way Caroline did. Katie’s nose was too stuck in books to learn anything about this.

“Good. Where’s your food?”

“Not hungry. Just tired.” She even yawned at the end. He had said she slept all night but she felt like she had been hit by a truck. Bo pulled her onto his lap and held a sliced chicken to her lips.

“You can take a nap after you eat something. Can’t have ya withering away on me. You gotta be nice and healthy for our babies.” His other hand ghosted over her empty midsection as if to pretend a life was growing instead. Caroline had to control herself not to cringe and slowly chewed the meat. That seemed to satisfy Bo for while. He ate the whole meal occasionally feeding her bits of it.

“I knew I found a good one,” he said kissing her shoulder, “That was better than anything Mama ever made. You still wanna nap?”

Caroline yawned and nodded her head, “Please.”

Bo smiled and stood still holding her in his arms. She wrapped her legs about his waist to hold herself. He carried her up a staircase and into what she assumed was his room.

“Once I know you’re really gonna be good I’ll let ya redecorate. Give it a woman’s touch.” He said laying her down on the bed and pulling a blanket over her. “I gotta go see Vinny. You stay here and nap. If you wake up and I’m still gone you can go to the kitchen and wash dishes. I’m being nice since you’re still learning but after today dishes are done before bed.” She nodded as he continued this time getting in her face his forehead against hers, noses touching. “If I come back to this house and you aren’t in this room, the bathroom next door, or the kitchen- I will take my shotgun and shoot your sister in between the eyes, before coming for you. Understand baby?”

Tears sprang to her eyes immediately and she nodded her head fiercely, “Y-ye-yes, Bo. Yes, sir. I understand. I promise I will be good.”

That seemed to make Bo happy since he kissed her softly and left her to fall asleep.

[pasta-pardner]

electronic indiepop songs involving cowboys and horses 🐴

spotify

[fioreshere]

i got tagged in a nine people tag by the wonderful @fire-but-ashes-too !!! 🩷

(i hope im doing this right i feel like such a dinosaur on this app😭 im still learing 🥲)

last song: king of my heart live from last night's show (which, side note, honestly made me sick to my stomach?!!? HOW COULD SHE DO THAT TO ME?? it was so beautiful on the piano I cried🥹)

last movie: oh god idk it might have been my nth rewatch of the princess bride? i think so at least

currently watching: heartstopper AND schitt's creek cause I can never focus on one show at a time lol?

currently reading: ugh it's so sad but im actually just alternating between my uni textbooks, ao3 and my own work😭 but as soon as i have some free time im planning on reading ninth house by leigh bardugo (reviews anyone???)

currently craving: I just had lunch so nothing in particular buuuut i could go for some ice cream rn? just something sweet and cold

last thing you researched for writing purposes: ok so I don't really have a search history for that?? I tend to do research in incognito mode cause im writing wylan as a little menace to society (on brand tbh) which means i mostly look for poisons/bombs/dangerous chemistry stuff and I dont really wanna get arrested? so yeah 😀 it gives me a false sense of security😇

i don't really know who to tag so if someone sees this and wants to participate you're so so welcome to jump in!!! 🫶🏻

[spiltcandycoatedpunkblood]

just so you know how normal the UK is, left wing climate change activists and anti-monarchy protesters are getting jail time and beaten for simply holding up banners and being considered disruptive whilst right wing bullshitters against shit like ULEZ (literally about having areas that are specifically for ultra low emissions so we, y'know, don't constantly have to breathe in fucking car fumes and other pollutants because some fucking people actually bizarrely want to???) and road safety limits EVEN FUCKING RIGHT NEAR SCHOOLS are driving basically massive vehicles through the streets and are not considered a disruptive protest

[victorluvsalice]

-->While Smiler was bopping away, Victor had finished his upgrading, so I had him transportalate down to the greenhouse, change into more appropriate clothes, and start tending all the plants (a process made a little bit harder today by his bees being angry about life and stinging him occasionally). Alice, meanwhile, was stopped from going out to shower in the rain (Erratic Sims…) and forced to finish her breakfast and take a quick wolf nap to calm her instincts before I sent her out to feed Toothy the cowplant and the poor starving chickens. Fortunately going out in the thunderstorm didn’t make her scared (one of the few perks of a Sim being Erratic) – though it did break her umbrella, so that wasn’t great. Despite this, though, she got everybody fed, cleaned out the coop, and got all five eggs waiting in said coop without incident. Feeling both proud of her for staying on task and bad that I'd made her work in the rain, I then directed her to head inside and up to her and Victor’s bedroom, before having her change into her outfit with the Delicate “bad mood calming” bracelet and start working on her latest book again (the mystery “Who Stole The Tarts?” in case you need a reminder – I did!). She plugged away at that for a bit while I checked in on Victor – he’d finished all his tending, so I decided to have him super-sell his garden –

After he’d bonded with his bees to stop them being so angry. And after he’d evolved his taro root. And after he’d gathered soy wax off his soy plant. And after he’d gotten a pee – which involved him magically fixing the downstairs toilet because at some point it broke (I think the moment he tried to sit down on it, in fact). And after he’d given Surprise a lecture on scratching the furniture. I’m saying it took a WHILE to get to super-selling all that produce. XD But he did get there eventually, poor guy!

-->And then I looked at Alice again and noticed her Fury was getting really high because, despite her bracelet’s best efforts, her “gotta be outside” werewolf instincts were giving her lip. I quickly sent her out into the backyard (fortunately the rain had calmed down to a drizzle at this point, AND her umbrella was back in good repair) and had her somber howl to lower her Fury – then, deciding I wanted to be extra safe on a party day, sent her back up to the séance room to meditate the rest of it away. Smiler, meanwhile, was finally allowed to stop dancing for the camera (I’d left them like that for a while because, uh, it was just easier ^^;) and upload the video to their production station so they could start editing it and adding effects and transitions and all that jazz. Victor, for his part, finished his super-selling at last – I immediately made him Repairio the wind farm (those things break SOOO MUCH) and smash up a twisted tendril growing outside Moory’s pen before having him harvest the prairie grass in said pen. XD No rest for the wicked – or the magical! Though he got a pretty good harvest out of the prairie grass – not only did he bundle up plenty of hay, he also found a bottle of potato nectar – and a bottle of VITALITY nectar. AKA the nectar that can deage Sims and bring ghosts back to life. O.o So yeah, that right there? That is the GOOD stuff. Have to remember to get him to store it in the aging racks later!

-->Anyway – while Victor was getting that done, Smiler uploaded and hyped their finished video (just in time for it to be included in the royalty money for the day, nice), then ran downstairs to lecture Shock for scratching furniture and drinking from puddles. I couldn’t get a good picture of either as Shock kept running away from Smiler to do something else as they tried to lecture her (like going to drink from puddle in the bathroom while Smiler was trying to tell her no scratching the living room chairs), but the lessons DID take, and Shock has learned not to do either thing anymore. Hooray! I then had Smiler mop up all the puddles around the place and take a quick shower as I checked in on Alice – to my delight, she was completely Fury-less! Yay! :D And even better, I quickly discovered an activity to keep her busy while I tried to wrangle Smiler and Victor (Smiler, finished with their shower, was trying to mold the clay blob in the bathroom from last episode while Victor wanted to chat with them) – the laundry! The hamper was starting to look a biiit full, so I had her search everyone’s pockets, then load up the washer with the clothes and a chrysanthemum and set them tumbling. Victor and Smiler had headed back up to Smiler’s room to dance to the tunes coming out of their radio at this point, so I just had Alice head up and join them for a little dance party –

[novelconcepts]

shoot a silver bullet (point-blank range) - everything is the same, and everything is different; in which the wolves turn Van Palmer into something more (werewolf!Van AU)

M, 8.5 k words

Her life ends while she’s asleep. Seems unfair. Seems fucked up. She’s there one moment, curled beside a fire, safe and warm and just a little bit irritated with the girl she loves. Normal shit. They always say don’t go to bed angry. She never knew why before now. Her life ends while she’s asleep. One minute, she’s a girl: flame hair and round cheeks, soft and fragile and stronger than even she knows. One minute, she’s a girl: weary and frightened and still laughing as loud as she knows how. One minute, she’s a girl. The next, she is meat.

[env0]

Addison Van Buer & Synthetic Skyline - On Your Lips (Official Audio)

Spotify

Want to do me a huge favor, check out my friends newest song!

[catrakomtrikru]

Things that might help you vote

I have a crush on the lead singer of house parties

I'm friends with the turks, I played hockey with their drummer.

And the van has two members that act gay with each other.

All three bands support lgbt people

[disabled-battlekukku]

[housefullofnuns]

Chaney Elaine covering welcome to the black parade by MCR at pop punk nite, 07/19/24 Plano, tx.

[fayekage]

I had the best new years ever and I am beyond happy. I’m looking forward to how life will play out. 🌸

[skeltnwrites]

Bad Cop - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You wake to a call from your boyfriend Eddie who asks you to bail him out of jail. 

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: interactions with police, mild injury, talk of fighting and bullying, sexual innuendos 

A/N: I might be a little late to the Eddie Munson party but I’m here now! :D

“This is a collect call from Edward Munson at Hawkins Police Station. Will you accept the charges?” 

You clear your throat but your voice still feels raw when you speak, “Yes.” 

“Please hold,” the operator says. 

A trilling sound as you wait, twirling the phone cord anxiously. You’d been tucked in bed a minute ago, dead to the world. The phone rang loud enough from the kitchen to startle you awake. You caught the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand as you kicked the blankets off, just after one in the morning. 

“Y/N?” His voice is soft under the crackle. 

“Edward.” It’s not angry per se but you never use his real name which is telling.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Are you okay?” you sigh, tipping your head till your forehead meets the wallpaper. 

“I’m sorry— I’m fine. I just, can you bail me out please.” 

“What happened, Eds?” 

“Just a stupid fight. Nothing serious, I promise.” He pleads like you won’t believe him and doesn’t give you a chance to press for details, “There’s cash in a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet. On my side, all the way in the back.” 

You want to scold him but you're still kneading sleep from your face, irritated now that you know he’s okay. You bite your cheek, considering the possibility of an argument. Knowing that it shouldn’t take place through a phone. 

“You’re sure? It’s enough?” 

“Swear.” 

“Okay, on my way.”

He apologizes again before the line clicks. 

You shuffle through the band tees he’s grown out of and have since been neglected to the back of your shared closet. You make a mental note to remind him to drop some off at Goodwill. Under a stack of vinyls, you locate the box with a rolled wad of twenties held together by a rubber band. You snap the band, biting your lip. It’s enough to buy something expensive, really expensive. You jam your heel into a laced sneaker and do not bother to change out of your pajamas. The money is pushed deep into your pocket along with the house keys. You shake away arising questions as you start the van. 

Cold air smacks your bare arms as you push open the station door. You blink rapidly at the fluorescents. An officer hands you a clipboard, you sign two dotted lines, and fork over most of the cash. He retreats to a separate room without a word, presumably to retrieve your boyfriend, leaving you alone in the lobby. 

Your arms pillow your head on the counter until a familiar set of steps rounds the corner. His eyes, big and sorry, find yours instantly. But your attention quickly shifts to the marbled purple and blue highlighting the arch of his cheek. The stern speech about bar fights and bail payments you’d rehearsed on the way flees your throat. He brushes past the counter to hug you and you spot a split lip too. Your shoulders deflate as you meet him halfway. 

“Thank you,” Eddie mumbles into your crown. 

You give his waist a quick squeeze before pulling back. His hands chase the goosebumps from your skin as you scan his face. His curls are frizzy which is typical but more disheveled like he’s been running his hands through them. Your nail traces his lower lip where it was clearly cracked open but is now glazed over with a layer of dry blood. “Lose any teeth?” 

He smiles, pearls still intact, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad. His breath smells faintly of alcohol as he says, “You look tired.”

“I am so tired,” you admit. 

He grits his teeth guiltily, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

An officer clears his throat and passes Eddie a brown paper bag with ‘Munson’ scribbled on the front. He snatches the bag with a wink. The man offers nothing but a blank stare, maybe mild disapproval as Eddie pivots and jogs toward you, already at the door. He fishes for his lighter from the bag, kissing and pocketing it as you step outside. 

“Can I drive?” Eddie reaches for the keys in your hand. You always let him drive. 

You snatch the carabiner to your chest, elbowing his side, “Are you trying to get a DUI too?” 

“I had one beer,” he scoffs as you unlock the door. 

You believe him but pretend not to as you hop in the driver's seat. “You’re a criminal now. Can’t be trusted!” You yell playfully before slamming the door as he jogs around the hood. 

“Very funny,” he mutters as he climbs in. 

You sling your arm over his seat to back out. The streetlight accentuates the bruise when you glance past him. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Hmm?” 

You point at your own cheek. 

“Oh, no. It’s fine. Should’ve seen the other guy,” he chuckles. 

“We’ll ice it when we get home,” you pull out onto the main road before settling your gaze back on him. “So who was the other guy?” 

His eyes roll in your peripherals, “So Shelly Watkins was there—“ 

“You hit Shelly Watkins?” 

“Jesus! No! Her stupid boyfriend Rob Perry.” He groans in disgust. “You remember him? He was such a dick in high school!” 

You shake your head, trying to recall. 

“He’s a couple of years older I think. Well anyway, Shelly was blabbing her big mouth, as usual, about Robin and her new girlfriend.” 

“What was she saying?” You interrupt, curious but inferring already. 

“Nasty shit. And she’s talking so loud the whole bar can probably hear. I mean, I couldn’t not say anything, babe. And hey,” he throws his hands up in surrender, “All I said was ‘Seems like what other people do in their spare time isn’t your business.’” 

You smirk, knowing it was not as polite as he made it out to be. 

“And Rob is all ‘What did you say?’” Eddie teasingly lowers his voice, foot hiked up in his seat to face you with a finger curled under his nose like a mustache. 

You steal glances from the road to watch the theatrics as he retells the story, making sure to emphasize when he punched Rob square in the nose so hard it broke. 

“Did you win?” You ask, attempting to hide your proud grin by checking your blind spot. 

“Oh yeah.” Eddie crosses his arms, accidentally nicking the wound on his lip with his nail as he retracts the faux finger stache. He winces, tapping the cut to assess the damage. Fresh blood coats his finger; he’s quick to press his whole hand over his mouth as he fumbles through the glovebox with the other. A deck of fast food napkins you’d organized spills out. You catch one before it falls, crumpling it into his free hand and swerving back into your lane. He replaces his hand with the thin sheet, wiping his fingers on another napkin off the floor as you pull up to a stoplight. 

He tips his head like a puppy when he catches you staring. You lick your thumb, smearing a stray drop crawling down his chin. Your palm lingers on his skin, rubbing circles behind his ear as the light flicks green. 

It’s not long before you pull into the driveway and unlock the front door. Eddie holds a third napkin to his face. You consider going to the ER for stitches as you toss the keys on the counter and snatch a Ziploc bag from the cabinet. 

Two lines of light form a skewed L in the hall from the cracked bathroom door; A silent message that you are allowed to come in. It squeaks familiarly loud on its hinges but Eddie doesn't acknowledge you. 

He focuses on his reflection as he peels the napkin away hesitantly. The blood has stopped but his lip looks swollen and angry. You hook a finger through his belt loop, tugging him until he turns. You nudge the bag of ice to his cheek and he flinches grasping your hand to pull it away. 

“‘s cold.” 

You tug the hand towel off the sink and wrap the plastic, pushing it back to his cheek. You hold it there caressing his lash line with your pointer. He leans into the touch, rubbing his eyes with ringed fingers. Eddie pulls the thick silver off one by one, setting them on the counter. 

“Sit,” you tell him. 

He perches on the edge of the toilet lid obediently. You pick a washcloth from the drawer and run it under the sink. He parts his knees as you approach him, hands snapping into place at your hips. You cup his chin, pushing up until he tilts it toward you. Cool water cleans his lips where you brush. He doesn’t flinch, even when you accidentally dig too hard. You progress down to his jaw, where blood is smeared dry, and flaky. 

 “Think I’ll have a cool scar?” His breath fans your chin as you work cautiously. 

“No,” you say. He toys with the strings on your pants, happy to be taken care of. “But you don’t need it. You’re cool already.” 

The corners of his mouth lift fondly. He fights the urge to smile, hoping you’ll work longer if he sits still. You swipe in slow strokes, also secretly loathing the time and touch. 

You give his face a once over before tossing the rag to the counter. He searches your expression for a diagnosis. But words are slow to find your mouth, too enraptured with the long lashes that bat his cheeks sweetly. “I love how eager you are to stick up for the people you love,” you start. 

“But?”

“But, we can’t afford you getting arrested over something like this.”

“I know,” he groans and headbutts you gently in the stomach. His hands cup the backs of your thighs and his hair drapes around his face like a curtain. You comb a handful of it over his neck and he tilts his head so you can see his eyes. “I don’t regret what I did, though. He’s always been such a bully. He deserved it, you know?” He sighs, gaze drifting away, “I felt like I could finally stand up to him after all these years.” 

Your fingers trail down his shoulder to smooth out the tee riding up his back. “I don’t doubt that he deserved it. I know you just want to do the right thing. But still, he can probably afford it, we can’t.” You hesitate to ask, “Where did you get that money anyway?” 

He hugs your middle, muttering into your belly, “Been saving.” 

“For what?” 

He shrugs and says what you believe to be, “Something special.” You are curious but lean on your trust rather than insecurity. He most likely intended to surprise you with something if you didn’t know.

“Sorry, you had to spend it.”

“Not your fault.” He peers up at you as if to ensure you know that and you brush his bangs back. 

“Still, sorry.” 

He blinks slowly up at you like a cat waiting for more pets. Then, he shoots up, back stiff, eyes wide. “You have work tomorrow,” he realizes out loud. 

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” you pull his arm until he stands. “I actually have come down with a real nasty cold,” you force a cough into your fist. 

“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, not only that but there's this criminal that won’t leave me alone. Think I might have to file a report at the station tomorrow.” 

He laughs, flicking the light off as he follows you to the bedroom. The ice pack is left to melt in the sink and the stained washcloth to dry on the counter, a mess for tomorrow you’ve decided. You’re quick to crawl under the covers and he’s even quicker to shed his clothes and join you. 

Eddie pecks the sliver of collarbone poking out of your shirt, making his way up in a dotted line. He presses gently to your lips, and you break away mindfully, aiming for the corner instead. 

“You know?” Your eyes are closed but you feel his stare. 

You hum.

“I think it’s kinda sexy when you call me a criminal.” 

“Oh my God!” You throw an arm over your burning cheeks, “You are so horny.”

He laughs into your wrist but moves it aside to cradle your cheeks firmly. He pulls one eyelid open gently with his thumb when you refuse to engage. You release the smile you’ve been keeping. He mirrors it, teeth bright in the moonlight spilling in. “Think about it, I already have handcuffs so you can play bad cop and—“ 

You grope for a pillow to push into his face and then another when he chucks it off the bed, giggles overlapping. 

“I’m going to call the police on you, have them arrest you again. Take you to horny jail.” 

“Now you get it,” he releases his grip on your wrists to sit back on his heels and in a voice that is not his own he fawns, “Oh, officer! I promise to be a good boy from now on!” 

You roll over, groaning wildly into your pillow. “Go to bed!” 

He settles behind you, his heart races where it's thumping against your back. Yours isn’t far off. A final kiss is planted on your nape where he tickles you with his hair as he wishes you a good night.

[sidekick-hero]

“Hey, have you seen Harrington? Guy’s totally wasted. Can't even stand. Tried to get up, fell down like a goddamn turtle. Garrison's over there throwing chips at him. It’s hysterical, you gotta check this out, man.”

The upside to being the guy everyone calls ‘the Freak’—the guy no one wants to talk to unless they’re looking to buy—is that Eddie can disappear whenever he wants. And tonight, he’s been in full stealth mode, almost ghost-like in the way he drifts through the shadows of this overcrowded house party. When he’s not standing on lunch tables at school, giving speeches, or taunting the assholes who think they run the place, Eddie finds that people tend to forget he’s even there.

Which makes it real easy to hear all kinds of things he probably shouldn’t. Not that Carver's announcement is any kind of secret, not with the way he’s broadcasting it to the entire room. Ever since Harrington lost his King Steve status, the rest of the jock squad has been scrambling to claw their way to the top. It’s desperate. Pathetic, really, if you ask him. But no one’s ever asking Eddie for his opinion.

He should get out of here. Most of his stash is gone, and it’s getting late. There’s leftover mac and cheese in the fridge with his name on it, and if he bolts now, he might just catch the midnight rerun of The Thing.

Eddie tries to ignore the mental image of Harrington—Steve, Steve—sprawled out on that grimy carpet, covered in crumbs and dirt, drenched in stale beer. He must feel defenseless. The kind of defenseless that Eddie knows too well, the kind that gets you laughed at, or worse. But just because Harrington buys a dime bag off him every week doesn’t mean they’re friends. Even if they’ve had a few surprisingly not-awful conversations. Even if Steve’s actually kind of funny for a rich kid, for a jock.

There’s no reason for Eddie to care about what’s happening to Steve Harrington, just like Steve never cared about him.

So why the hell are his feet carrying him toward the living room instead of the back door? Why is he elbowing people out of the way, pushing through the circle of gawkers around Steve? Why are his hands grabbing Steve by the shoulders, hauling him up, and dragging him out before anyone even knows what’s happening?

And why, for the love of God, is he driving to his trailer with Steve snoring in the passenger seat, instead of dumping the guy at his parents' mansion and going home?

Eddie wishes he knew. But his body’s on autopilot, and he’s watching it all happen like he's outside himself, like he’s not the one doing it.

The trailer park is quiet, too quiet for a Saturday night, but that’s January for you—cold as a witch's tit, and getting colder. The van’s heater barely works, and Eddie can see both their breaths fogging up the air, little puffs of steam in the dark.

Eddie cuts the engine, and the sudden silence fills the van like a held breath. Steve shifts in the seat, muttering something incoherent, his head lolling against the window. For a split second, Eddie considers just leaving him here. Would serve him right, honestly. Let King Steve wake up alone, freezing his ass off in a busted van in a trailer park at the edge of town. But then Steve lets out a soft groan, and Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes.

"You're a real piece of work, Harrington," he mutters under his breath, pushing open the driver's side door.

The cold air hits him like a slap, biting through his jacket and sending a shiver down his spine. He makes his way around to the passenger side, yanking open the door and catching Steve before he can tumble out. The guy's heavier than he looks—dead weight, limp as a rag doll. Eddie grunts, struggling for a grip, and finally manages to sling one of Steve's arms over his shoulder.

"Okay, big boy, up you go," Eddie mutters, half-dragging, half-carrying Steve toward the trailer. Steve's head drops forward, his hair brushing Eddie’s cheek, and he smells like a mix of beer, Steve's usual cologne, and something else—something clean, like laundry detergent or fresh air. It's weirdly comforting, and Eddie has to shake himself out of it.

Inside, the trailer is dim, lit only by the glow of the old TV Eddie left on. He kicks the door shut behind them, maneuvering Steve over to the sagging couch. Steve flops down with a heavy thud, eyes still closed, mouth slightly open. For a second, Eddie just stands there, looking at him, wondering what the hell he’s doing.

Why didn’t he just leave him there at the party? Why did he care?

Maybe it's because Steve looks different like this. Not the smug, popular guy who used to strut down the halls like he owned the place. Not the guy who had everything and then lost it all. Just... some kid, really. Some scared, drunk kid who probably doesn’t know where he fits anymore.

“Alright, Sleeping Beauty,” Eddie mutters, leaning down to untie Steve’s sneakers. “Let’s get you comfortable before you choke on your own puke.”

As he pulls off one shoe, then the other, Steve stirs, his eyelids fluttering. For a moment, his gaze is unfocused, hazy, but then his eyes lock onto Eddie’s, and there’s a flicker of recognition.

“Munson?” Steve’s voice is low, rough from whatever he’s been drinking. “What the hell…?”

“Yeah, it’s me, genius,” Eddie says, trying to sound annoyed but failing to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. “You got yourself in a bit of a mess tonight, Harrington.”

Steve blinks, slowly piecing things together. “Why’d you bring me here?”

Eddie shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Seemed like the right thing to do, I guess.”

Steve snorts, like he doesn’t quite believe him. “Right. The Freak playing Good Samaritan. What’s the punchline?”

Eddie’s smile fades. It inexplicably hurts to hear Steve call him that. “There’s no punchline, man. Not everything’s a joke.”

Steve stares at him, as if searching for something in Eddie’s face, something to latch onto. Finally, he just nods, leaning back against the couch, eyes half-closed again. “Thanks,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear. “I guess.”

Eddie feels something strange twist in his chest. “Don’t mention it,” he says, a little too quickly, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as Steve. He turns away, grabbing an old blanket from a nearby chair and tossing it over Steve. “You sleep it off. I’ll be in my room.”

But even as he walks away, he can't shake the feeling that something’s shifted tonight, some invisible line crossed. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe in the morning, Steve will wake up, make a snarky comment, and it’ll all go back to the way it was.

Or maybe, just maybe, it won’t.

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then I looked at the party timer, and was like, “crap, no, I have to make sure that Smiler gets silver on this thing – where are the guests?” I quickly looked over the farmhouse, and found Cletus and Brian eating some leftovers from the fridge, and Myra upstairs – kindly fixing Smiler’s video creation station! Didn’t even know it was broken, thank you, Myra! (I mean, maybe SHE broke it, but at least she also fixed it!) Couldn’t find Cameron right away (I think he was eventually located just chilling in front of the house), so I resolved to have Smiler concentrate on the two in the kitchen, joining them and telling some jokes since that was one of the party goals. Though it didn’t actually complete until I had Smiler tell base game jokes, instead of vampire puns and special “let’s make fun of n00bs together because we both like video games” jokes. EAxis, you really gotta update some of these interactions... Anyway, the guests continued moving around seemingly at random, with Myra coming down for food while Brian wandered off somewhere (and Roxanne headed upstairs to use Victor and Alice’s computer for a bit – prooobably should lock it to just them), but Smiler persisted in making conversation with whoever was in the kitchen, and managed to complete the main goal of socializing with their guests by supporting Cletus’s facial hair. XD Bringing the party up to automatic gold! Yes!

Oh, and what were Victor and Alice doing during all of this? Chilling out alone in the party barn with Party Time the bot, dancing to the music and chatting with each other. XD I mean, that probably IS their ideal party situation, given they’re both supposed to be not that social. Alice eventually had to go outside and take a little nap to calm down her werewolf instincts, but she came back up to eat some hamburger cake provided by Party Time while Smiler wrangled their guests and got them all back in the party barn area. Mostly because there was one last thing that I wanted to do before the party ended –

-->Play a game! Specifically, Simbles, since I’d never played that game before! Smiler invited Alice, Brian, and Victor to play with them – Alice was a little late in joining as she was busy wolfing down her cake first, but she eventually found a seat and joined the others for a rousing game of Sim dominoes (where the “simbles” have geometric shapes on them instead of patterns of dots). Brian ended up leaving the game early, but Victor, Smiler, and Alice played past the end of the party, with Smiler winning. :) In fact, they won in multiple ways, because their party ALSO ended firmly on gold level (meaning they’ve won yet another stereo – I think I might just recycle that one straight of the inventory, why not), meaning they too managed to complete an aspirational milestone (FINALLY getting past the “Sir Gala Had” level of Party Animal) and thus fulfill their New Year’s resolution! :D Three for three, yaaay~

-->With both party and game over, though, it was time to do some clean-up around the house. Alice found some more spilled trash in the front yard (apparently a certain someone kicked over the trash can again while leaving >( ) and cleaned that up before emptying out the hamper, getting the clothes pile out of the yard, and starting a load of laundry (freshened by a daisy); Smiler washed all the plates their guests had left behind and cleared the spoiled food out of the fridge; and Victor fed Toothy after I stopped him trying to eat its cake. *shakehead* Victor, I already went through you getting nommed by a cowplant in my old save file – not interested in doing it again! Anyway, he and Alice then both proceeded to have leftover waffles while I stuck their various bits of produce and suchlike in the fridge – then got one of the giant oversized mushrooms OUT of the fridge so Victor could turn it into a seat. Because I just think that’s cool. XD The gang had a brief chat in the kitchen (with Victor and Smiler doing a little flirting as Alice cleaned up her plate), then Smiler went back upstairs for more video gaming time (on Victor and Alice’s computer again – REALLY gotta lock it) while Victor put the laundry in the dryer and Alice used the bathroom. I ended up leaving it on Victor Repairioing the downstairs bathroom sink after it broke while Alice was using it. XD

And there we are! One very satisfying day in Sims world! :D I’m so glad I was able to hit my goal of getting them all to hit theirs. :D And next time we visit, the gang will be celebrating Love Day! How will that go? We'll find out...