#jesus christ how is this game this good and this bad at the same time

[perrin-aybaras-hammer]

Pre-writing the post thought: WHY DID I SPEND SO MUCH TIME ON THIS. Nobody caressssss. But i dumped my thoughts in a puddle on the floor and here they are, have a lick:

About to finish baby's first baldur's gate three playthrough and i have some thoughts, in no particular order.

1) it can't truly escape acute dungeons and dragons 5e disorder. (By which i mean, railroading narrative development behind a single die roll)

2) tumblr neglects the hilarious monsterfucker npcs.

3) there is something to be said about mindflayers, the matrix, and when portraying fascism and resistance in sci-fi/fantasy breaks down that i can't quite articulate yet.

4) everyone's favorite gameshow "is the tragic ending narratively interesting or is it just another way for me to mentally self-harm???"

5) orcs continue to rule.

6) i did not expect a speech in this game to hit QUITE so close to home.

7) kill eugenicists on sight

8) thinking about a character's connection to off-screen characters (family, friends, rivals that never appear) is more crucial to roleplaying than whatever the fuck a "bond" or a "flaw" is.

9) milf sweep

10) transfem orc sweep

11) let me 1v1 zariel i can take her

12) dnd 5e hates necromancers

13) why can't i find a hood or cloak until halfway through the FANTASY game

14) dnd undervalues the swagger of medieval infantry helmets (and other gear) from across the globe. Enough of this needlessly filagreed and over-designed bullshit. Kettle helmet sweep

15) look orpheus you're probably right that i should've let myself die to mend the sins of being unwittingly complicit in your awful imprisonment but i think i deserve a little credit for risking my ass to kill a devil and loot his house and then tell one of my strongest allies to go fuck himself all to save your sorry ass

16) i really do want to highlight that this game has a character LITERALLY call out another character as a monsterfucker (essentially calling them a chaser). Like literally actually. The levels of near-fourth wall break. But apparently we are all too busy blorbo-ifying a victim of abuse who then perpetrates further abuse before finally breaking the cycle of violence.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Sharing - Twin Rafe Fic (Part 1 of 2)

+18 Minor DNI

CurtainBangs!Rafe x BuzzCut!Rafe x GF!Reader

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warning: SMUT, language, drinking, name calling, choking, pet names, sharing kink, ownership kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, choking, public sex, rough sex, shower sex

📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you.

✨ “Pretty sure you know what I want to hear, princess,“ he grunts. "Just tell me you want him. Tell me you want us to share you. Tell me you want his cock and mine, y/n. Let me hear it.” ✨

3.8K

Reader's POV:

“Touchdown, Bulldogs!”

The stadium erupts with applause as Rafe gets swallowed up in a team hug. The school fight song blares through the open arena as a massive homecoming crowd clamors to storm the field in celebration. You hang back slightly with the other players’ girlfriends, watching as Rafe shuffles over to an equally massive #2; Cameron scrolled across his back as well. The two of you have only been dating for a few weeks, but you could tell, like quintessential twins, those two were close.

Cam was always Rafe’s second call after you, no matter what, good or bad, and it almost seemed like Cam was two steps ahead. He knew how to calm him down; he always seemed to know what to say. But, then there was the rivalry; Cam knew how to push Rafe’s buttons. What to say to trigger a classic Cameron bitch fit.

Rafe wanted nothing more than to win this game. You could see his chest puffed out a little more than usual, his shit-eating grin a little more sly. Rafe tugs off his helmet, skimming his fingers through his sweaty fringe as his brother removes his helmet as well.

You squint your eyes, stomach fluttering as you take in the difference from all the Instagram and Snapchat images you’ve stalked prior: a fresh buzz cut. Jesus Christ. Rafe pulls him in for a big hug, slapping his shoulder pads.

Your nerves creep in fast, a combination of anxieties about meeting Cam for the first time. I want to impress him. I want him to like me. I want him to think I’m good for Rafe. That’s his twin brother, after all. Sure, I met Ward and Rose, Wheezie and Sarah, and that went great, but this is the big leagues. This is his twin; this is make-or-break.

But, on a separate note, should I be this nervous? I mean, in this way? Seeing Cam gave me butterflies… Maybe it’s ‘cause he looks so much like Rafe? I can’t deny that when he took off his helmet, I felt something. Fuck, I’m in trouble.

“There she is," Rafe groans as he pulls you off your feet and into his strong arms. You cup his sweat-glistened cheeks, kissing him deeply.

"Hi, Rafey," you mumble against his sweet lips.

"How’d I do?" He smiles against your pout, nose nuzzling yours playfully.

"So damn good,” you praise as you scratch your nail into his hair, pulling him closer.

“You look so pretty, baby - love seeing you in my jersey.” Rafe sets you down on your feet, kissing you again before pulling you to his side.

“This her?” Cam pipes in, stealing your attention away.

“Sure is. Cam, y/n; y/n, Cam,” Rafe smiles down at you proudly. You turn your attention to Cam, feeling that same flutter from before, a blush creeps in your cheeks as you see the same look in his eyes that Rafe gave you the first night you met.

“Well, shit,” he rasps as he steps a little closer. Cam takes you off Rafe’s hands, drawing you into his embrace, hugging you before pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Fuck, you’re stunning," he praises.

Cam reaches up, fixing the little "R” pendant on your chest, brushing your clothed cleavage as he sets it in place. Your heart races at the contact between you, banging so loudly you swear Cam can hear it. “Thank you,” you breathe. A grin slides across Cam’s lips; Cam’s smile is stunning, just like your boyfriend’s. But there’s a fire behind it that once again gives you the most delicious deja vu. Cam likes what he sees.

“So…” Rafe teases, head cocked slightly, arms raised, holding open your spot at his side.

“Oh shit. Sorry, Rafey,” Cam snickers as he passes you back to his brother. Rafe wraps his arm around your shoulders, tugging you in, pressing a rough kiss on your hair. Cam’s eyes return to his brother, a smirk spreading on his rosy lips. You look up at Rafe, catching the mirror image.

“Well, this one’s gonna help me with my post-game routine; why don’t you come over in like an hour-” Rafe continues to talk; Cam cocks his eyebrow, seemingly stuck on the first part of the plan for the evening. He smiles sinfully, eyes falling down your body, making you blush as you see his wheels turn. These two talk about everything; your little post-match shower session was most likely a topic of discussion already. 

“We drinkin’ tonight?” Cam drawls.

“Literally just said that, dumbass. Maybe if you stop starin’ at my girl’s tits, you could focus. Yeah?” Rafe taunts, shoving his brother away.

“Not gonna apologize,” he bullies as he wets his plump bottom lip.

If Cam was anyone else, he’d gone - erased from this earth for his wandering eye. Rafe, no stranger to roughing up a guy or two on account of you - his brother seemingly the exception. “You’re a fuckin’ dog, buddy.” Cam shrugs and smiles, owning the title as Rafe hooks his finger under your chin. “I don’t blame him. My girl’s perfect,” he whispers before meeting your lips.

“This is my favorite part of Game Day, baby," Rafe hums as he tears his shirt off his athletic body. You pinch the bottom of your top, drawing it over your naval. ”Lemme,“ he smiles, stripping you of his old jersey before tossing it to the side, lifting you off your feet. Rafe pulls away only briefly to turn on the water, walking with you to the countertop. It’s dim, the perfect amount of light thrown from his open bedroom door. Admittedly, it’s your favorite part of Game Day as well: getting this time with Rafe, the two of you unwinding before a night of drinking, the pair of you coming down from his post-game high together.

Rafe sets you down on the cool top, sending chills up your warm body as his hands quickly get to work. One weaves into the nape of your hair while the other grips the plush of your hip. ”You know I love you,“ he whispers as his rough fingers trace over the top of your thigh, disappearing between your legs.

”Of course, Rafe.“

"M'not sayin’ this to start a fight; m'not callin’ you out for anything. Alright?”

“Okay," you giggle nervously. ”Is everything okay?“

"More than okay," he grins. You let out a little gasp as he runs two fingers through your wetness, lifting them to his lips tasting you. "You have a crush on my brother. Don’t you, sweetheart?" He whispers. Your eyes widen in surprise, lashes fluttering as he calls you out.

"I - Umm… Rafe-”

“I said, 'It’s more than okay, honey," he mumbles as his fingers press through your entrance. ”You don’t believe me?“ Your brows knit in confusion as you stare into his beautiful blues. How could Rafe Cameron be okay with this? I mean, he almost got arrested last weekend for a fight after someone bought me a shot. How is he okay with me having a crush on his brother? 'And, it’s more than okay?’ No way.

"No…" You whisper feebly as your gaze falls to his lips.

A smirk stretches wide, Rafe’s breathing increasing with yours. "No, what, princess?”

“I don’t believe you," you reply before returning your eyes to his. Rafe pouts his lip teasingly, pumping and scissoring his long fingers.

"Alright…" He shrugs, continuing to tease you. You grip Rafe’s thick dick in your hand, rubbing his precum into his swollen tip as he quickens the speed of his hand, thrusting his fingers at an insane pace. ”He’s got a crush on you.“ Your pussy tightens around his digits at the sound of his words, making Rafe smile wickedly. "Baby girl…" He mocks as he moves in even closer, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist. Rafe tucks himself into the crook of your neck as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

”M'gonna cum,“ you whine.

”You sure, y/n,“ he whispers against your warm skin. ”I don’t believe you.“ Rafe repeats your words as he slows his pace, edging you; prompting you to grind against his palm, craving a release.

”Rafe…“

”Hmm?“ He chuckles through a throaty laugh. ”S'alright, baby. We share.“ Rafe baffles you with his admittance as he spears his thick cock into your drenched pussy.

”Rafe!“ You wail, mouth hanging open as he circles his hips nice and slow, buried balls deep, letting you adjust to his size. You cling onto his shoulders, nails digging into his tan skin as he stretches you out. Steam swirls all around the two of you, the room burning with vapor and sex as Rafe walks toward the walk-in show, drawing back the glass door. ”This could be a really good night for you,“ he mutters as the stream of water pours from the spout, washing over your naked bodies.

Rafe’s eyes fall down your bare frame, watching as the little rivers of warm water cascade through your dips and curves, glistening over your already dewy skin. His blonde fringe hangs wet on his forehead, framing his beautiful face. You look down as well, eyeing the place where your bodies connect; Rafe’s thick cock sheathed deep. "You share girls?" You whisper. Rafe moans as he presses you back into the icy shower wall, forcing himself as deep as possible, making you exhale a deep breath.

“'Course we do." He starts to pound you into the wall, making you cry out in pleasure.

"And, you want to share me?" You ask, weakly between rough thrusts.

”That not clear?“ He rasps, drawing out of your cunt, whirling you around before bending you over, pounding back into your aching core.

"Fuck!” You sob, feeling him deep in your guts. You take hold of his wrists, his hands steadying your hips, clawing into the fat of your ass. Rafe spreads your cheeks, coaxing his cock in slower as he feels you tighten around him again.

“Bounce for me. Yeah?" He groans, slapping your ass before letting you take control. You throw your bum on his cock; cheeks clapping against Rafe’s wet skin. Your curves recoil with each slap of his tight body against yours, knees buckling, causing Rafe to chuckle darkly as he watches you go weak on his dick. "Please," you whimper, knowing he won’t let you cum until he hears you say it.

”Pretty sure you know what I want to hear, princess,“ he grunts. "Just tell me you want him. Tell me you want us to share you. Tell me you want his cock and mine, y/n. Let me hear it.”

“Rafe.”

He winds up, slapping your thigh harshly, making you scream, voice bouncing off of the shower walls. “I want him. I - I want you to share me. Fuck. I want your cock and his." You squeal Rafe’s name as you gush around his cock; your entire body shaking as he keeps you standing through your climax.

"I want you to beg,” he huffs, tugging your hair, pulling you close, back pressed against his heaving chest, Rafe not letting you come down from your orgasm before he starts working on your next. One arm wraps around your throat in a chokehold, squeezing tightly while the other arm binds around your waist.

“Please.”

“No. Not enough," he sneers, constricting your airway with his biceps. Rafe starts rocking in and out. You can feel every ridge and curve of his cock as he gives it to you, slow and deep, making your eyes roll back. You feel yourself getting lightheaded at the lack of air, but Rafe doesn’t let up his hold. ”Beg.“

Holy shit.

"Please, Rafe. I fucking need it," you pant wearily. ”I want to please you both… I wanna feel you-“ Your voice trails off as you feel your orgasm building again, vision fuzzy, mind muddled like you could fall to the floor.

"Baby? You got awfully quiet. You a'ight?" He growls; a low tone rumbled against your skin.

”I want you both to ruin me!“ You choke out the words. “I’ll do anything for your dick. Please.”

"Mmm… Atta girl.” Rafe pulls out, taking his time with you as he looks down at you lovingly. He guides your chin, lifting your lips to his. Rafe kisses you soft and slow as you try to catch your breath. You look down at his throbbing dick, the creamy ring of your arousal rinsing off his hardened flesh, ready for more.

“You think your brother wants me, Rafey?" You whisper, biting into your bottom lip as you bat your lashes, playing into his game.

”'Course he does. That bastard always wants what’s mine. Lucky for him, we’re brothers… N'I play nice.“ Rafe loops his bicep under your thigh, plunging his cock back in. He rolls his hips deliciously slow, finding that perfect angle that makes tears leak from your eyes. ”Gonna fuck that tight little ass of yours, baby. Fill you up,“ he groans. ”We haven’t done that yet? You ready, f'me? Think you can handle us both?“

You can’t even form words; all thoughts in your mind run wild at the idea of having them. "You’re squeezing me so tight, baby… Think you could cum for me again?" He whispers against your ear, teeth, tugging at your lobe as he draws out, slamming his cock back into your pussy. You let out a cry of pleasure, your cracked sob reverberating off the walls. "Gonna have you creamin’ on our cocks all night. Just a little whore for Cameron cock, aren'tcha?" Rafe throws his hips again and again as the knot in your stomach starts to twist tighter. You pinch your eyes shut, nodding frantically as you feel your orgasm within reach, completely cock-drunk. "Say. It.”

“M'just - Fuck, daddy-”

“M'just what?" He mocks your fucked-out tone.

"A little whore for your cocks. M'just a hole for you, Rafe.”

“Ugh. Yes! Fuck. That’s my girl. That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Yeah? Cum on my cock.”

“Fuck…”

“Cum." Your walls spasm around his cock; waves of your finish crashing down on you again and again as you call out his name. Rafe yours as he floods you with his seed. You can feel his dick twitching inside you, your body milking every last drop of his cum.

Rafe’s forehead falls to your neck in exhaustion. ”Goddamn. I fuckin’ love you, honey,“ he breathes as he kisses his way up your neck. ”Mmm… We’re gonna take real good care of you tonight, baby,“ Rafe moans. You can hear the excitement in his voice, matching your own, but you can’t help but feel a slight apprehension.

What if this ruins what Rafe and I have?

Your demeanor must have changed because Rafe notices instantly. "Talk to me, princess,” he respires as he holds you tight, lips resting on your shoulder as he rocks the two of you lazily.

“I’m a little worried, Rafe. This doesn’t really feel like something you’d do with a girlfriend… Someone you wanna end up with. This seems like something the two of you would do with some random girl - maybe a fling. I wanna be with you… I don’t see us not being together. I’m crazy about you, Rafe,” your voice cracks with emotion, making him expel a soft pity laugh like you have nothing to worry about.

“I’ve got no doubt in my mind that it’ll be us, Y/n. Rafe and y/n…” He pinches the gold "R” he bought you between his fingers. “I’m crazy about you too, baby. You gotta know that. Yeah? Here.” Rafe tugs off his gold Cameron Family ring, gliding it on your thumb instead. “I want you to have this, Y/n.”

“Really?” You gasp.

“'Course. You’re mine. Alright? Tonight doesn’t mean I think anythin’ less of you, or I’m not serious about our relationship. M'so fuckin’ serious, y/n.” Rafe pulls out of your pussy, making you wince; his large palm quickly soothes the ache. Rafe turns you into his chest, wrapping his towering frame in yours. “How could I not be serious about you, baby?” He mumbles warmly against your lips. You look up at him, matching his gaze. ”S'no question who you belong to, honey. Cam knows you’re mine. I had you first. M'gonna have you when he’s gone. Alright? Just let us take care of you like you take care of me. A'ight?“

"Okay, daddy,” you smile as you rest your hands on Rafe’s muscular chest, trying to contain your excitement as you see his ring adorned on your tiny finger. Rafe glances down as well, chuckling to himself as he sees how happy the gesture made you.

“Looks good on you, baby," he croons. "Let’s have a good night. Yeah?”

“Let’s do it.”

You start moving your hips to the music; the bass bumps in your chest. Your friend quickly grabs you by your hips, turning you away from her; you start grinding on her. Your hands drift up your thighs, working back down as you roll your body nice and slow. “Where’s Rafe?” One of your friends screams over the track. You smile and shrug as you continue to move. “You think you could introduce me to Cam?” She wiggles her eyebrows in your direction. No way.

“Sure," you breathe, brushing her off.

Where are they? Tonight has been fun. Cam is every bit as gentlemanly as Rafe. He asked me about school, my major, and my friends, but it was all very "normal”, almost as if that conversation with Rafe in the shower hadn’t happened.

Was he genuinely interested in me like Rafe said he was? Or did he change his mind? You look out into the packed college bar; a deep sea of students grinding and moving to the beat. Your dance partner gives you a sloppy kiss on the cheeks before getting whisked away by her boyfriend, leaving you solo again.

The void is quickly filled as your body is claimed by Rafe, taking you from behind. He presses his chest against your back, rough hands working up your bare thighs, resting on your hips. “You look good, baby girl,” he groans. “This fuckin’ body." His lips meet your neck, kissing and nipping his way to your ear as you grind to the beat. You can feel his rock-hard cock through his jeans, pressed against your ass. His rough fingers move down, drifting lower and lower, making your pulse below. "Bet this pussy’s so wet,” he groans, teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

Rafe applies a little more pressure, pressing his fingers on top of your clothed pussy; rubbing small circles on top. Oh my god. Your body tingles, warmth coursing through your system as you feel little spurs of pleasure between your thighs. You breathe deeply, taking in his cologne, eyes widening when you take in a subtle differences.

This isn’t Rafe.

You look ahead, watching as Rafe lifts his red SOLO cup to his lips, his smirk half-seen as he stares you down. He gives you a flirty nod before tossing back the rest of his gin and tonic. You look down at the large set of hands on your body, seeing his twins matching gold Cameron ring on his finger. Cam’s body is familiar, the shape of him fitting perfectly with yours, but his hold is heavy, touch not as gentle as Rafe’s. His kisses are rough, sending chills up your spine as you rest your hands on top of his, guiding them closer to your sweet spot as Rafe watches on.

Cam’s fingers trace your inner thigh, toying with the soaked lace of your panties. “Y/n…" He moans against your skin. You lean back against him, tipping your chin up in his. Your heart skips a beat when you see Cam’s face, the sight of him making this all that more real. He looks so good, so fucking good; Rafe’s double in every sense of the word, donning a black v-neck instead of a white. His gold chain lays on his chiseled chest, glinting in the laser lights. The only visible difference is his buzzed hair. Cam wets his lip, blue eyes sparkling down on yours.

He pushes your panties to the side, causing you to gasp; Cam quickly claims your lips, stealing your breath. Rafe’s brother teases your entrance with the tip of his rough finger, making you whimper on his lips. He draws his hand away, bending you over. You rest your hands on your knees as you throw your ass back into him. Cam’s grip tightens on your hips, pulling you closer; the two of you fucking clothed.

Rafe pinches his jeans, adjusting himself clearly, loving what he sees. He calls over to the bartender, yelling for his tab, making your heart pick up pace as you see the plan set in motion.

Cam grabs you by your waist, turning you around; pulling you close to his chest. One hand works around the back of your neck, guiding your focus toward his eyes as his other hand continues to massage your clit. You feel a heat building in your belly, lashes fluttering as you look up at him.

"Rafe said you were a good girl, y/n. That true?" He rasps in a voice just a little deeper than Rafe’s.

"I - I’m a good girl," you whimper.

"Then cum for me." Cam pulls you in a little closer as you feel yourself about to lose control. Fuck. Am I gonna cum in front of all these people? You look around, the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd off in their own worlds. "Eyes on me? Wanna see your face, princess. Wanna see my brother’s pretty little slut cum on my hand in front of all these people," Cam taunts. He leans in, lips brushing against yours. "Our hands.” Ours? You gasp as Rafe grabs you by the waist, plunging two thick fingers between your thighs.  He fucks them into your pussy effortlessly, curling and stroking with precision.

“He told you to cum," Rafe warns.

You grit your teeth, gripping onto Rafe’s wrist and Cam’s shirt as your orgasm claims your body. The two boys work you through your release. Cam watches you closely, taking in your beautiful features as you cum for him for the first time. Rafe slips his fingers out of your pussy, sucking the mess clean as he always does. "What do you say, brother? Let’s get our girl outta here. Hmm?”

Part 2

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[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

DJ plays- Color Me Badd - I Adore Mi Amor

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: Hey! Check out this little guy.

Bob: Probably one of the cats they let in the church to keep the mice out. Wonder what’s he doing all the way out here.

Geoffrey: We can’t leave him out in the cold. It’s starting to get cold soon.

Bob: There’s no way you think we can sneak a cat in the dorms.

Geoffrey: I’m pretty sure people have snuck in worse. Besides, we’re doing an act of kindness, right, little guy?

Bob: Does Nancy like cats?

Geoffrey: [nervously] W-why?

Bob: I saw you two being all cozy at the game the other day. Care to share?

Geoffrey: She was just being nice, that’s all...

Bob: Popular girls aren’t just nice for no reason. Actually...popular girls aren’t nice at all.

Geoffrey: She’s different. She’s still the same Nancy Landgraab I knew when we were kids. Kind. Smart. Um, really pretty...

Bob: Oh, boy. Do you hear yourself! You my friend are in l-o-v-e and you should talk to her! Ask her out!

Geoffrey: Ask you Nancy Landgraab? How do I do that?

Bob: Glad you ask. I am a certified ladies man. You just gotta- you know, talk to her! Listen to her when she talks. Ask about her day. Compliment her brain, not just her looks, trust me.

Don: [snorts] You listen to this dickhead and you’ll never get laid, Osteer. If you want to hook up with Blondie, I can help you out. It’ll cost you, though.

Geoffrey: Like what?

Don: Room swap. It’ll be easier for my girl to come over without getting caught if I have your room. Dina is friends with the hot blonde chick and she’ll put in a good word. Don’t worry, you can tap that before we swap. Deal?

Geoffrey: I don’t know... shouldn’t I get to know her better?

Don: We’re saying the same thing, dumbass! I’ll let you in on a secret; Tonight, a couple of us cool kids are sneaking out to a college party. Blondie will be there, and you two can get your freak on. How’s that?

Geoffrey: I-

Don: Atta boy, Osteer! Don’t dress like a dork virgin either.

Bob: [in a baby voice] I think this is a bad idea, Geoffrey! Yeah, couldn’t have said it better myself, little guy.

-

Geoffrey: Hey, Nancy. Um. Thanks again for helping me the other day. The only thing that’s bruised is my ego, honestly.

Nancy: Yes, of course. I’m glad you’re okay. Sorry about your ego.

Geoffrey: [chuckles] It’s ok, it should be used to this by now. What are you reading? Can I sit with you before class?

Nancy: Yeah, sure.

Vanessa: She has a crush on Geoffrey? Why didn’t she tell me?

Nina: Apparently, they’re childhood sweethearts. We need you to play matchmaker. If anyone can hook them up, it’s you, VV.

Nancy Narrates: [Ever since that night in my room, Vanessa has been noticeable distant from me. The only thing reaching me was that lost, faraway look in her eyes]

Cassie: Guys...I don’t know. What if Sister Agnes decides to do another room check? What am I supposed to say?

Cassie: I’m just gonna say it- I don’t think you should do this. Feels wrong. Lying? I wouldn’t even know what to say if someone asks. Nancy, say something-

Vanessa: Jesus fucking Christ, figure it the fuck out! Come on, Nancy.

-

Geoffrey: Do you want to da-

Nancy: Getting a drink.

Vanessa: Hi.

Nancy: Are you mad at me about something?

Vanessa: Why would I be mad at you?

Nancy: I don’t know..

Vanessa: Put that down and come dance.

DJ plays- Color Me Badd - I Adore Mi Amor

Dream on, dream away I think I'm gonna have to stay Stay forever I adore mi amor

You want to take her place You say you'd treat me better Better I know for sure

You see she loves me And I could never leave her

Nancy Narrates: [There it was, that feeling again. Only this time, I did fall completely apart]

Nancy: [panting]

You're the one that I adore (I adore) I'll be forever your love (mi amor)

[windynebula]

#id put down more thoughts but this already sounds way too fucking dramatic so yeah.#it pisses me off when people say rose wanted limitless energy simply so he could make a profit. it just doesnt correlate to me.#i think rose wanted an utopian future where people didnt have to live in circumstances like these#circumstances being doing dangerous work primarily. but perhaps maybe a bad personal life outside of professional careers.#but i think at some point something in rose just snapped and decided that if he didn't take action no one would#i wonder what his breaking point was. perhaps he did actually see someone he cared about die in the mine. lol but anyway#as technology evolves and people depend on it more and more we're going to need far more energy than perhaps the whole planet has to offer#and rose wants immediate solutions and is desperate enough to make that utopia reality in his lifetime.#so a pkmn like eternatus that is theorized to hold infinite energy? a source you dont need to drain off the planet?#zero waste? zero harm to people and the environment? its perfect in rose's eyes.#despite the fact he basically wants to use eternatus as a sentient battery to power the whole galar region which is ironically selfish#anyway uh. yeah.

Honestly? If people understood just how much of a harrowing job underground coal mining is and the high mortality rate that comes with it due to accidents/explosions/illnesses, I think they would better understand why Rose is Like That to a slight degree.

But also, it'd be a lot better if we got that sort of insight through a type of unmissable clue you find in Galar's environment, implying the dangers imposed on a miner from either the mine itself or human error, allowing you to have some concrete insight of Rose as a character himself, rather than a random piece of throwaway dialogue made by Oleana way past the main story.

[eddie-stinks-munson]

Summer Depression- Eddie Munson

Prompt: Sharing Each Others Clothes Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 638 Tags: Fluff, Sad Sweetness (?) Reader is not gender specific, no y/n I don't think it's my best but my wife likes it

---

The sun was setting and there was a crisp breeze to the air, fall was right on the horizon. You’d spent the entire summer causing chaos all over Hawkins with your friends, from dusk til dawn. Now that summer was coming to a close, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness begin to color your days. 

You looked out over the lake, the sounds of your friends laughing and yelling in the woods behind you fading away as you got lost in your thoughts. Camping wasn’t your favorite activity, but you couldn’t think of a better way to close out the season than drinking and playing games with your friends, far away from the stresses of the real world. 

A chill ran down your spine as a breeze blew by, pushing out what felt like the last of the summer heat, and welcoming in the cool night air. You quickly rubbed your hands up and down the length of your arms, trying in vain, to keep the heat from escaping. 

You wanted to pretend that summer would never end, school would never come, and you could carry on- blissfully free of the responsibility and social conventions that came along with life going back to business as usual. As the cold settled in your bones, so did a sense of dread. 

“You cold, Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out from behind you, startling you out of your depressing ruminations. 

“A little,” you replied, hugging yourself tighter and trying to suppress a shiver. 

Eddie’s arms wrapped around you, engulfing your entire body in his warmth. You naturally melted into his embrace and sighed deeply. Taking in the scent that was so uniquely him: weed, campfire, and oreo cookies. 

“More than a little,” Eddie mumbled, squeezing you tighter “Jesus Christ, you’re freezing.” 

Before you could say anything, he was backing away and clumsily pulling his hoodie over his head. Only getting stuck for a minute in the process. You giggled as you watched, and Eddie playfully scowled, and gently threw the garment at you in a way that was so over the top you weren’t quite sure how he even managed to do it. 

“I’m okay Eds, really,” you protested, involuntarily hugging the toasty material to your chest. 

“I insist,” Eddie countered, “what kind of man lets his best friend freeze to death right in front of him.” 

“Fine,” you conceded. Honestly there was little use in arguing with Eddie when he put his mind to something. Especially when it came to your safety or comfort. 

You slipped the sweatshirt over your head, and let the hood conceal your eyes for a moment. Eddie’s laughter got closer, and you could feel his breath on your face. 

“It looks good on you,” Eddie mused, gently taking the hood down, and looking at you with a soft smile. 

You stared back up at him with the same tender fondness, “thank you.” 

His deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, and your bodies slowly gravitated toward each other, like the pull of the tides. Eddie’s hands gripped the hood as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world as his lips ghosted over yours, and his breath tickled your nose. 

You closed the distance between you, savoring the heat of his plush lips against yours. The kiss was soft, sweet, and filled with anticipation. Your heart fluttered in your chest and for a moment you’d forgotten how to breathe. When you pulled away, your foreheads stayed pressed together, the both of you frozen in time. 

Still not daring to move- because if you moved you might wake up and this will all have been a dream- Eddie whispered, “I’ve been waiting all summer to do that.” 

Maybe the end of summer wasn’t that bad after all.

[silverbirching]

So as some of you may know, I am... let's say an armchair-level amateur scholar of classical studies. @qqueenofhades can tell you how often she has to talk me down off the ledge of enrolling in an MFA program.

Like some of you, I was an insufferable twelve-year-old when Disney's Hercules came out, and all of my critiques of that film were down to "it doesn't do the mythology right".

Well, I've reached the point where I don't care about that shit anymore. Go nuts. Have fun with it. There are, however, some... History Tik-tok tumblr Bad Takes about Greek mythology that I have very little patience for. #Girlboss Persephone, for instance, or basically anything that insists on treating the Greek gods like people, whose behavior can be judged as more or less Problematic, rather than... symbols, archetypes, divinities.

I am happy to say that Kaos, while it obviously plays fast and loose with basically every element, captures the vibes of Olympus. The feels. Jeff Goldblum's intense, eccentric and fucking terrifying performance as Zeus, the flawless Janet McTeer as Hera, Cliff Curtis as Middle-Aged Jaded Slutty Maori Fuckboy Poseidon, David Thewlis' exhausted, depressive turn as Hades... all of it is GOLD. It has instantly become one of my new favorite adaptations. Like all good adaptations, it captures the flavor, the vibes, the FEEL of the original works.

Here's some of my other faves!

Gods Behaving Badly, by Marie Phillips - a goofy, fun little romp about the past-it and aging Gods of Olympus living together in a shitty house in London. A comedy, but it very accurately captures the essence of the vain, fickle, and usually stupid Greek Gods.

Circe, by Madeline Miller - I mean, I hope to God everyone has already read this one, Jesus Christ. Told from the first-person perspective of the Goddess-witch Circe, this book is an amazing re-imagining of one of the most maligned and studied characters in the Odyssey.

Hades 1 & 2. by Supergiant Games - I could write several thousand words about how much I love these games, which both revolve around the challenges of an immortal family that you literally cannot get away from -- and the way cycles of violence perpetuate themselves, even if the people involved CAN'T DIE. The depths of the scholarship on display there are frankly staggering, and they go DEEP into the esoterica -- Zagreus teasing Orpheus that he and Dionysus are the same person (which they almost certainly are, don't get me started on Orphism) springs to mind. Hell, the second game's protagonist is literally Melinoe. Also, Scylla is a boss fight and is the lead singer of a bratty girl group and sings a diss track about how your hair is a disaster. What's not to love.

... I do wish they hadn't made Kronos the God of Time. That shit drives me nuts. The words are cognate but not--he was an agricultural--ANYWAY.

Kaos is intense as hell, but it's fucking GREAT. And literally every frame is filled with Gays and people with different bodies and body types and various flavors of gender fuckery. It's great. Watch it.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 69 | Part 70

“Can I come in?” Dustin continues.

Steve looks at Eddie. “Come on in, Dustin.” Eddie moves to sit next to Steve.

He does, blinking at their positions on the floor, then mentally shrugs and joins them. “Joyce and Wayne were talking to us downstairs,” he starts quietly. “About how people think two guys liking each other is bad, and wrong, but how it isn’t, but how it’s still not safe for you.” He bites his lip. “We won’t tell anyone. None of us will. But I-” He takes a breath, looks away before continuing. “I think you’re brave. Really brave. And I think no one should get to tell you that being together is wrong or bad. Because it can’t be. I mean, even just logically speaking there are animals in homosexual relationships, but even without that.” He looks up at Steve. “I was over visiting Mike a few times when you’d be over. And I saw the way you looked at her. And I see the way you look at him. And it can’t be wrong, if the way you look at him is true.”

“God fucking damn it,” Steve grits out to Eddie, who grabs at his hand and squeezes it.

“Thank you, Dustin,” Eddie quietly says. “We really appreciate it.”

Dustin nods, fidgets. “Steve?” He pauses to fidget again. “Can- can I give you a hug? Maybe?”

“Definitely,” Steve nods, opening his arms. Dustin gives him a small smile and leans in.

“I’m glad you came back,” he whispers.

“Jesus fuck,” Steve gets out. “You’re gonna be the death of me, kid, my heart’s gonna give out like I’m eighty, and it’s gonna be because of you and your mouth. Christ.”

“Should I… not have said that?”

“No. I’m glad you did. Very glad. Thank you, Dustin.” He wipes his face and smiles at Dustin.  “Give us a few minutes?”

“Okay,” Dustin nods, standing. “I’ll tell everyone else.” He fidgets again. “Also, El wants to know when we’re gonna start.”

Steve sighs. “Today’s for a plan. When we start depends on the plan, and what day works best for it.”

“I’ll tell her,” Dustin promises, nodding, before running out.

Steve leans back against Eddie with a sigh.

“You’re really good with him,” Eddie murmurs.

“Yeah, well I’ve known him for years, I should be.”

“Not this Dustin. You’ve known him for all of two weeks. I think it’s just who you are as a person.” He wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I think you and my Uncle Wayne were cut from the same cloth. People can’t help but to like you.”

“Sure, even though you hated me in high school.”

“I didn’t know you in high school. I’d even venture as far as to say you didn’t know yourself in high school.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I think that means you should agree with me, instead of trying to argue about how terrible you are as a person.” Eddie grins at him. “Ready to go downstairs? Even if we’re not starting until tomorrow at the earliest, we should still get a game plan going today.”

Steve sighs. “I hate when you’re right.”

“Lies,” Eddie says happily, hopping to his feet and offering Steve a hand up, “lies and slander, you like me, Steve Harrington.”

Steve doesn’t even try to hide his smile. “Sure, Eds. Let’s go downstairs.”

They meet with everyone still in attendance in his living room. Joyce returns a few minutes later, and they start planning.

About an hour into it, Steve’s getting a headache. He rubs his temples but smiles at El when she approaches him. “Is your head being too loud?” She whispers.

Steve smiles wider. “I’ll be fine, Ellie.”

She narrows her eyes. “That isn’t a no. Friends don’t lie, Steve.”

“You’re right. Friends don’t lie.” He pets a hand over her head, cups her jaw for a second. “My head is being a little loud, but it’s not bad right now.”

“Would a hug help?”

“I think hugs always help,” he tells her seriously. “There are very few things a hug cannot fix.”

She beams and leans into him, throwing her arms around his waist. He grins, then buries it in her short hair. “Tell me something honestly. Could you go back to the building? Or would it hurt too much?”

She thinks about it. “It will hurt,” she tells him. “But I will be okay if I do not see the rainbow room.”

“You won’t,” Steve promises her. “What about Papa?”

She shakes her head, buries her face in his chest. “I won’t be strong enough,” comes out muffled.

“Okay. No rainbow room and no Papa. We can do that, Ellie. Anything you want to do yourself?”

Her lip curls when she moves to press her cheek to his chest. “The medicine room.”

Steve’s eyes shut. “Okay. Can I help you with that room?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He looks up to see everyone else watching them. “Have you decided on something yet?”

“We were sort of waiting for you, dear,” Joyce says apologetically. “You know the most about this stuff. We’re kind of flying blind here.”

Steve sighs, leans forward. “You’re right. Then let’s plan.”

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@l0st-strawberry

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 9

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When Parker joins Colt on set, things between the siblings gets argumentative. How hard will she try to convince everyone of something only she seems to see?

Read the story here: prev / next

Parker was dying.

Well, no, not really, but she was pretty sure that dying on the inside was the same kind of misery as dying on the outside—something Colt would wholeheartedly disagree with, but, whatever, he wasn't around to dispute such a wild claim—and as she failed at yet another attempt, she quite literally could feel her sanity evaporating like water on a hot summer day. It was ridiculous that the instructions were only five steps; even more ridiculous that there were high school art students who could do this with their eyes closed while gabbing about what the prettiest Met Gala dress of the year was and contemplating what the next Suzanne Collins' book would be.

"I think she should write more prequel books," said high school art student was blabbering on from the other side of the shelf, and while Parker's eyes went crossed and frustration welled like a heavy weight on her chest, Melissa didn't seem to notice as her train of thought continued on a cross-continental journey. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I will always love Katniss and Peeta's story, and hearing about their kids would be interesting, but there are seventy some years of Games that we haven't even heard about yet. That's so much material for her to write about!"

Parker glanced at the mess lying at her feet; tape and paint and abused shelf liner was sprawled around her as if a bomb had just gone off, and while Melissa continued on her fifth monologue of the hour, Parker almost wished one would.

"—did you see it? It was so good. Tom Blythe has to be my new celebrity crush. Right behind Tom Ryder, of course, but above Tyler Poser. Nothing against him personally, he just hasn't really done anything since Teen Wolf, you know? And—"

She was pretty sure black spots were dotting her vision, and when she attempted for a sixth time to smooth the bubbles out of her liner, Parker swore her head was going to implode.

How did one talk so much?

And more importantly—

"Jesus Christ!" she cried above the din of chatter. Melissa's voice cut off at the exclamation, but as she crossed one arm over the other—ruler clattering to the ground in frustration—the radio continued to play a steady stream of Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. "I'm so confused!"

A steady silence came from the adjacent aisle for half a moment.

"You... don't get the Hunger Games prequel? I thought you read it."

"Oh my fu—" she started, before cutting herself off. Melissa had gotten on her last week about having such foul language, and while Parker really didn't care about being a bad influence on the next generation, she did care about the stupid little jar sitting on the front counter that had collected half of her weekly coffee allowance in just three days. Pinching her nose, she swerved, "fudge, I don't get how you're doing this. I really don't."

"Doing—?"

"Not Suzzanne Collins," she snapped before Melissa could even go down that particular road. Honestly, the girl never stopped talking. "I understand that. I read those books before you were even born, kid."

"Okay, I'm not that young, and you're not old enough to be calling me kid," her voice floated above the shelves; judgmental and scornful all in one.

Parker pinched the bridge of her nose, only for some wayward tape to get stuck to her cheek, and as she ripped it off her skin with a groan, she considered sinking onto the cold floor for a nap.

Said floor was a mess of art supplies, however, and so she elected to tap her foot in an impatient staccato on the ground. Knowing there was only one thing left to do, Parker swallowed whatever pride still existed after this little art project. "...I don't understand how to put on the shelf liners," she admitted. "It doesn't make any sense, and I'm wasting material, and I'm—I'm going to set this place on fire if I have to keep doing this!"

A tut followed by Birkenstocks on hard wood before Melissa was popping around her side of the shelves. She looked too cute to be doing something misery-inducing like this—bubble braids over each shoulder, mascara and glittery white eyeshadow to balance out the glow of highlighter on her cheeks and nose, lips a soft bubblegum pink to compliment the pale color of her sweater—and Parker added it to the list of things that her employee did to annoy the shit out of her.

Teenagers were supposed to be pimply and awkward; when did the next generation start skipping that phase to jump right into cute outfits like that?

"What are you—?" she started, only to zero in on the absolute disaster that was Parker's attempts at interior design. The shelf liner was warbled and misshapen, cut too short on one side and too long on the other, and at her feet half a yard of wasted material lay sprawled. "Parker! Do you have any idea how expensive this stuff is?"

Parker blinked at her. "Do I—? Of course I do! I was the one that bought it in the first place!" she snarked incredulously.

"Then why are you wasting it?"

"Well—because—I'm not doing it on purpose!" she blustered.

Melissa clearly didn't seem to believe that if her raised brow was anything to go by. As if Parker had woken up that morning with the single goal in mind of making this process as difficult and expensive as possible.

Yeah, right.

Parker hadn't been stealing eggs and bread from her brother's when she visited just for the thrill of the grift.

"The instructions don't make any sense," she continued to defend herself; though, the fact that she needed to in the first place was ridiculous. It was her shop, afterall, and she was the owner. Oh, right. She was the owner. "I knew we shouldn't have done this. The paint and decorations look good enough. Why, oh why, did I let you talk me into doing shelf liners too? You know the books are just going to cover the pattern, right? No one will see them."

That seemed to upset Melissa, and in response, the teenager's entire face contorted into something righteous.

"Firstly," she said, flinging up a electric blue nail, "everyone will see them. The books are only so big, so the liner is still visible even when the shelf is full, and when people take books off the shelf it adds character to the store. And secondly," she continued, ticking another finger up into the air, "I've already finished three whole shelves in the time it's taken you to do half of one. Improperly, too. It's not impossible. You're just bad at it."

"Ugh!" Parker's mouth fell open. "Excuse me. I'm not bad at it."

"Could'a fooled me."

"You know," she snarked while planting her hands firmly onto her hips. Melissa didn't seem intimidated one bit, and she watched as the teenager gently pulled up her crumpled liner. "You're lucky I'm your boss because someone else might fire you for sass like that."

Melissa shot her a blithe look while dropping the ruined liner to the ground. Within seconds, she cut a new piece—perfectly sized—and calmly started lying it down. "Okay, sure, Park. Whatever you say."

"I could!"

"Uh-huh," the girl said again, clearly not buying into the power play for a second. Parker might have taken more offense to that if, well, Melissa wasn't right. She never had an employee before, but Parker didn't handle workplace confrontations well, and she couldn't imagine ever firing anyone. Let alone her best customer.

Still. She could at least pretend to be intimidated.

Before Parker could argue that point, Melissa stepped back from the shelf with a flourish to reveal a perfectly placed, smooth and colorful liner.

"Son of a..." Parker muttered at how easy she had made it look. Not to mention the fact that it did look really good. She could already picture how much character it would add once the shelves were re-stocked with their books. "How did you—?"

"It's honestly so easy. Like, I'm embarrassed for you."

And—yeah.

Parker was definitely dying.

"I liked you better when you only came in once a week," she announced, dropping the wasted paper into the trash bag. "You were a lot nicer then, at least. And you already gave me money instead of costing me heaps of it."

Unbothered, the teen popped her bubblegum with a shrug. "You were a lot cooler then, too."

"What—?" she cried, tracking around the shelf in Melissa's wake. The teenager seemed pretty pleased with herself, and as she giggled into her hand, Parker propped her shoulder against the wall with a glower. "Oh. Hardy-har-har. Hilarious. Let's all pick on Parker; that seems like a fun way to spend the day. How about this? You can finish this little project yourself since it was your idea in the first place."

That managed to wipe the smirk off of her face, and Melissa responded by stomping her foot. "This place is huge! There's no way I can finish this on my own."

"Please," Parker rolled her eyes, not buying that for a moment. "You've done six times as much as me in an hour, and better too. It's like you said—I suck at this."

"I didn't say you suck."

"Bad, suck, they're all the same insult. Are you regretting the sass now?"

Melissa scowled. "Fine. But I want to re-negotiate my salary."

That wiped whatever smug look Parker was wearing off her face in seconds, and as if this was a game of tug-o-war, the smugness transferred back to Melissa in the following seconds. So smug, in fact, that she started humming to herself as she set to work on the next line of shelves.

Shaking her head, Parker couldn't do anything but laugh. "Fat chance of that! You're already robbing me blind with the stupid swear jar. Besides, this whole thing was your idea; you wanted the job, and now you got the job. You don't get to re-negotiate your hourly pay when you've barely been here a month. That's not how employee contracts work."

"America as a late stage capitalistic society is failing and is not what you should be basing a business model on, but if that's how you want to play it, fine. This is a supply and demand market. There's nothing to say I can't negotiate my salary when my needs as an employee go up. Your demand has changed, ergo my supply for you has changed," she chirped, and not for the first time, Parker was wondering when teenagers became so socially aware. When she was Melissa's age, she babysat for five bucks an hour, and most of that was just spent making sure the kids didn't swallow their Gumby doll. Needs of an employee her ass. "Besides, we agreed on that salary when I thought I would have help doing the manual labor."

"You're awfully smart for someone that didn't read the fine print."

Melissa paused in her work to cross one arm over the other. And—fuck—how was she being intimidated by someone wearing a best friends forever necklace?

Saved by the tinkle of the front door bell, Parker broke off their stare down to give the girl a flippant gesture that would definitely not hold up in court as any sort of agreement, before moving towards the front. She didn't even care that they were closed, a customer was more than welcome at the moment. Even a neighborhood cat would do.

Melissa trailed after.

"All I'm saying is—" she started.

"Ah, ah, ah. No money talk in front of customers. It's totally kitsch," Parker chirped over her shoulder.

"It's Sunday. We shouldn't even have customers. Can't we just tell them to leave?"

"And they say good customer service is dead," said customer drawled from the front counter as he pilfered through her bowl of mints. Several clattered to the floor as he tried to dig out his favorite flavor, and with a wince, Parker watched him not-so-subtly nudged them under the counter with his shoe as if it hadn't happened at all. "Er, those were already down there when I got here."

"Ass," she rolled her eyes, bending over to scoop the mints up before mice decided to add themselves onto the list of things she had to deal with. She was already stuck between two pestering leeches, a third infestation was not ideal.

Before Melissa could complain, Parker stuck a dollar into the swear jar.

"Whatever. Tom, we were just—" Melissa pushed past Parker with an exuberance that had been lacking moments before. It deflated the moment she got a better look at him, however, and the girl's grin slipped into a sour frown. She crossed one arm over the other to peer suspiciously at the blonde. "Wait, you're not Tom."

Colt experienced a variety of emotions in a single second, and Parker couldn't help but laugh when he let out an offended squeak.

"What—how does she know Tom?" he hissed.

Parker dumped the fallen mints back into the bowl with a shrug. "He's stopped by before. She's a huge fan. Number one, apparently. She's seen all his stuff."

"Twice," Melissa added.

Parker pointed at her. "Twice," she reiterated, just knowing that it would piss Colt off.

Just as expected, he responded by rolling his eyes with a second, high-pitched groan. It sounded like he was in pain. "You're a fan of Ryder? Seriously?"

Melissa squared her shoulders at him. "Seriously."

"You do know that he wears a wig, right?"

She huffed. "No, he doesn't."

"Uh, yes he does."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does—"

"Okay, that's enough of that," Parker interjected with a groan of her own. What had started off as an amusing blow to her brother's ego was quickly turning into a headache. "Melissa, don't bully him. He has a sensitive ego."

Colt threw his arms up—bowl of mints scattering everywhere—to cry, "Parker! That's not—I don't—who even is this?"

"Who am I? I work here. Who are you?" she shot back, bright eyes narrowed into slits. Parker could imagine her in high-school now, scaring off boys left and right, and if her brother didn't have the mental maturity of a middle schooler, she might have let them argue a little bit longer.

Alas. Colt's weakness was women, and she didn't fancy giving him chest compressions when he inevitably choked on his pride.

"Melissa," she gestured, "this is my brother, Colt. He's a professional stuntman, and has been Tom Ryder's stuntdouble for years. That how I met him in the first place. Colt, this is my new employee, who also happens to be a teenage girl, Melissa."

In unison, the pair gave cagey hmphs.

"Nice to meet you or whatever," Colt sniffed.

"Yeah," she responded with a blithe look. "Totally."

Parker glanced between the pair; both had matching postures, arms crossed, arms averted, neither wanting to acknowledge the other, and she pinched the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh. Although, to be fair, only one of the two was an actual adult. Despite how Melissa might carry herself from time to time.

Remembering this, she steered the conversation back to more important things. "If I step out for lunch with Colt, do you think you can finish the shelf liners? You can invite one or two friends to hang out. If they help, I suppose I can pay them too."

Pettiness forgotten, Melissa gave Parker a wide-eyed look. "Really?"

"Flat rate. Fifty for the day, a max of two friends. Just no posting on instagram or snapchat or—you know—anything else. I don't need social media being my downfall before I even get started."

"Oh my god, you're so old, Parker. Who would even want to cancel you?" Melissa laughed over her shoulder before disappearing towards the back. Her cell phone was already dialing, and by the time she started pasting on liners, her friends were already on their way.

With that taken care of, Parker blinked over at her brother.

"Yes."

Colt, having replaced whatever book he was pretending to read, furrowed his brows at her. "Yes, what?"

"Whatever you're going to suggest we do, yes, please take me away from here before I commit a craft-themed crime."

"Is that a crime?"

"A violent one."

He clicked his tongue, tossing another mint into his mouth with a curious side-eye across the counter. "Maybe I just wanted to stop in and see how things were looking. You were talking about it at the party so much I figured I'd have to see it eventually."

That was a lame excuse and they both knew it. Colt may have been her biggest cheerleader, but her brother didn't know the difference between paint and lacquer. Not to mention that he was red-green colorblind, and would certainly have a hard time noticing any change in paint around them.

"Coooolllltttttt," she whined.

He quirked his brow at her. "Seriously?"

"Please?" she asked, slumping across the counter. When that didn't work she attempted to flutter her eyelashes at him. That only provoked an eyeroll from him, and she deflated with a moan. "I'll ber lurnch," she muttered into her sweater sleeves.

He lifted a finger to his ear, patronizing and provoking all in a single sweeping gesture. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't get that. What did you say?"

Atop her arms, she glared before slowly reiterating, "I'll buy lunch."

That he understood.

The bastard.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" he cooed, and when he attempted to pat her atop the head, Parker swatted him away with a glare. She was already reconsidering going anywhere with him, but a single glance towards what was awaiting her in the back of the shop had her sitting up straight. "I have to go to set today for some wardrobe fittings and thought you'd want to come with. Might as well see how the magic is made. We're gonna be late if you keep moping, though."

"We wouldn't have been late if you didn't get all mouthy with Melissa," she snarked while gathering her things. Feeling a bit guilty about leaving the kid to finish the work, she dug a twenty out of her wallet. "I'll be back later! There's money on the counter to get lunch for you girls!"

She got no response—as a mom rarely did with a teenager—and it took Colt tugging her by the elbow to get Parker to step outside. His truck was parked right in front of a fire hydrant.

She raised a brow at him, utterly unimpressed.

"What?" he asked when he caught the look she was shooting him. And, as if it wasn't a low-stakes crime that he was committing, Colt just grinned. "Relax, grumpy-pants. It's a Sunday. Fire hydrants don't count on Sundays. Now get in before we really are late."

There was a lot to say to that, but Parker didn't bother wasting the energy, and with an easy-going grin of her own, she clambered inside.

---

An hour later and Parker finds herself propped on an overflowing table filled with sewing needles, accessories, pens, papers, and a binder flush with polaroid photos of her brother from every angle. The film's wardrobe department, despite his warnings in the car, was more than thrilled that Colt had brought along his sister, and while he was poked and prodded, shifted left and right on a pedestal for everyone to critique, Parker had been set up with an iced coffee, some freshly made baklava, and front row seats to the most amusing thing she had seen in weeks.

"I think the crotch is too tight," Betty said, tugging on the material with long, sharp fingernails that Colt eyed like they were a sleeping snake. "See how it's bunching, we need to let it out, or maybe—see this? We could try—"

"No, no, no, it doesn't need to be let out," Sasha, a blonde woman with oversized cat-eye glasses tutted. "It's supposed to be tight. Remember?"

"It'll rip."

"It'll be fine."

"I suppose for standing, but I think he'll be wearing them for a running sequence—"

The ladies bickered back and forth, hands clawing too close for comfort at her brother's privates, and every so often he would wince when they tugged a little too hard. Parker, watching all of it, giggled every time it happened.

"How come I've never been brought along to fittings before?" she mused, a Cheshire-like grin in place. He had been standing up there for the lasty forty minutes, and every time she took a sip of her drink, Colt would look a little more green in envy at their difference in treatment. "This is fun."

"Fun," he said, mocking her with an eyeroll. "You come up here and try this."

"I happen to think I would look amazing in those pants. I have the ass for them, anyway," she chirped, and Sasha took a break from her bickering just to laugh at the idea. Beaming, Parker added, "I didn't realize that wardrobe fittings for the stunt double would be so... invasive."

"Yeah, well, usually the pants aren't so tight. That's all thanks to Ryder."

"I bet they look good on Tom," she said, half teasing, half meaning it. Anything looked good on Tom as time had proven again and again; from covered in sweat, puking in a toilet to wearing Gucci brand glasses, she had yet to see the guy look bad. Speaking of, "shouldn't he be here too?"

Colt, adjusting the tight collar of his leather jacket, shot her a look. "He's probably staring at himself in a mirror somewhere. That's how they trap raccoons, you know. They get so distracted by their own reflection that they forget to run off before the coon dogs get them."

"That's not a thing."

"Sure it is," he said, twisting on the pedestal as the ladies started to adjust the inseam of the pants. He eyed their gleaming needles nervously as they continued on their warpath across the fabric. "You should watch Animal Planet sometime. They did a whole episode on it."

"On how to catch raccoons?" Parker reiterated, absolutely not believing her brother for a second.

"It was a special."

"Maybe a Looney Tunes' special," she deadpanned with an eyeroll. Colt's mouth propped open in argument, only to freeze up when two pairs of hands started plucking the fabric across his butt, and she watched his face flush red. "Seriously? You're such a child!"

Being called out, Colt scowled at his sister. "Am not."

"Are too."

"Am—you know what?" he caught himself before he could go on his second preschool tirade of the day. Parker sipped her drink with an impish gleam in her eyes. "Whatever. You're supposed to be amusing me, not stirring up shit. Tell me something interesting."

"Sure, Caesar," she rolled her eyes. "What would your highness like to be amused by?

"I don't know! Anything. Like—what were you and Melissa doing today at the shop that had you running scared?"

She blew a raspberry, spinning slightly on the table to snatch up an oversized top hat. She didn't have a clue what sort of movie it would be acceptable for—definitely not a sci-fi one—but she traced the stitching with a bored eye anyways. "Shelf liners. They're way harder than they look, and she can get mean when she wants to be. I swear she acts like she's the boss sometimes."

"Ooooh," he teased. "Scared of a teenager?"

"You should see her first thing in the morning. She must wake up at five am to do her beauty routine, and anyone with that sort of willpower should be feared. I think I'll have to move when she finally saves up for her car. God knows the roadways won't be safe."

"Just because you can't wake up before noon without a liter of coffee doesn't mean everyone else can't. Some people are naturally early risers."

"Says the guy that slept for nineteen hours straight once."

Colt shot her a cross look. "I had a concussion."

"All the morning reason not to sleep that long. Isn't rule number one of head injuries that you're supposed to wake up every so often for a health check?" she asked.

Her brother popped his mouth open to argue, finger poised, before he slowly let it drift down to his side. His silence spoke volumes, however, and she raised her brows at him with a smug smile.

"Oh, like you're so perfect," he huffed irritably.

To which she beamed, plopping the top hat onto her head with a flourish. "Maybe I am. Ever thought about that? I'm pretty, popular with famous people, and am the reigning champion at beerball five years running."

"You cheat at beerball," he snarked before the rest of what she said caught up to him. With a gesture, Colt flexed on the pedestal, adding, "and you're not the only hot Seavers. Look at me? See how these pants are hugging my curves? You wish."

Parker laughed at that, couldn't help it if she tried. Her brother was so ridiculous that at times the way he spewed word vomit surprised even her. Not to mention the fact that he was her brother, best friend on too many planes to count; it was hard not to be in a good mood when hanging with him. Even if she was watching him get pampered like a princess before an upcoming ball.

Speaking of, "so, you don't think Tom will be around?"

Something bewildered cracked across his features at the same time that Sasha and Betty told him to step down from the pedestal. The ladies took their notes to the table, adjusting this and that, while Colt stepped behind a privacy screen. She could hear him grunting as he tried to maneuver out of the pinned clothes without sticking himself.

"Do we need to talk about this?" his voice echoed.

"About what?"

"You. Tom. Whatever weird relationship the two of you have going on," he continued, before yelping when he did stick himself on a pin. Sasha rushed behind the screen to help him get out of the pants, and when she returned, she had the garments in hand. "It's sickening to even think about."

"How is us being friends sickening?" Parker echoed.

"Because—you—he—the guy is an ass!"

"He's not an ass," she argued back, surprising herself at how quickly she came to his defense and how little she actually cared. There were few things her and Colt disagreed on; siblings that knew each other as well as they did often had minor squabbles, but nothing ever world-changing or big. Yet, it didn't feel right to let him say those sorts of things. She could consider why later. "He's just... misunderstood."

"Misunderstood?" his voice pitched behind the screen, before he was stepping out in a totally new suit. It was black and yellow, leather, emboldened with the NASA logo, and for a moment she forgot entirely what they were talking about to ogle it appreciatively.

"Ooh, nice job ladies, I like that one."

Colt paused, glancing down at himself. "It is nice," he said in surprise, twisting and turning in the mirror. As he smoothed the material down, he added, "comfortable too. Is this worn much in the film?"

Betty checked her notes. "Looks like he wears it in a few scenes. Oh, looks like you should be wearing it for a harness drop, so make sure you tell us if it's too tight anywhere," she said as the women headed back over to him with their tape measures and pins. "Good?"

He stretched up and down, left and right, before gesturing to the armpit seams. "Probably could be loosened a bit."

She nodded, and the ladies got to work on that, as Colt returned his attention to his sister. Clearing his throat, he continued their earlier disagreement. "I can't believe you of all people think he's misunderstood."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, hello? Remember the whole coffee thing?"

"I think I understood him perfectly well then," she argued, top hat shifting on her head as she gestured. It was surprisingly heavy, and Parker fixed its lean half-heartedly. "He was an asshole during that encounter, and several encounters since then."

"Then what's with the whole PR parade?"

"I just think he's, I don't know... not always like that."

Colt stared at her; blinking, wide-eyed, with wheels spinning slowly between his ears. She swore she could smell the smoke from there, and Parker prepared herself for whatever ridiculous conclusion he was going to come once the spinning stopped.

"You didn't drink any kool-aid recently did you?"

And, yup. She saw that one coming from a mile away.

"Jesus Christ, Colt," she rolled her eyes, huffing. "When are you going to stop with that Jonestown shit?"

"It was a big deal! More people should be talking about it."

"Yeah, like, three decades ago. No one is trying to copy it with kool-aid. That would be a little bit of an obvious tactic, don't you think? I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I'm not in a cult!"

He held his hands up to placate her, before dropping them back down at Sasha's disgruntled tsk-ing. Parker supposed the ladies would be amused by their conversation if they weren't so intently focused on their work. That or they would be seriously concerned for the siblings' mental welfare.

"I'm just checking. Cult leaders are hard to spot you know. That's their whole gimmick. They look normal, just like you and me, and then next thing you know—wham! Indoctrination. Cult. Weird clothes and bad bathing habits and no teeth. It's a slide, not stepping stones, Park. Tom Cruise fell for it in the eighties and hasn't gotten out since"

"Yeah, well, I don't have any sort of money to give a potential cult leader so I don't really think I'm a good target in the first place. Plus, Tom Cruise seems to be doing just fine with the whole Scientology thing," she replied drolly. He didn't have an argument to that, and she shook the melting ice in her cup half-heartedly. "All I'm saying is he's under a lot of pressure from a lot of people. Isn't it possible that he overreacts sometimes?"

He didn't look pleased with her line of questioning one bit, shaking his head at her like a disappointed parent. "I don't think you should be friends."

"What?"

"I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

"Now who's drinking the kool-aid?"

"I'm just saying! It's weird," he continued, gesturing to her a second time only for Betty to snatch his arm and tug it back down with a glare. Colt didn't seem to notice, however, as he barreled on in the way that idiots often did. "First, it's the bookstore. Normal, no biggie. Then, it's the little giggling and laughter. Odd, but whatever. But then, all of the sudden, he has an invite to my exclusive birthday party—"

She threw her head back with a groan, top hat tumbling to the table. "I already apologized for that!"

"—and next thing you know, our Friday night is being highjacked by some ritzy party in upper LA where I have to wear my nice shoes and act like an adult. I'm telling you—rockslides only take a pebble."

"Are you saying you didn't have fun?" she asked with a pointed look, to which her brother hedged and hawed instead of answering. Like a guilty dog that knew it was in trouble, he avoided eye contact. Replacing the top hat onto her head, she waved her hands around. "See? So what's the problem? You got along then, too, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then isn't it possible you misjudged him too?"

"I've known him a lot longer than you."

"But you've never actually spent time with him outside of work."

"For good reason."

"Really? Because you always seem to get along when I'm around," she continued, not ready to let the point go if only because she needed it to stick. "So, how good can the reason be? Maybe he's grown up since you first met him, and you just don't want to accept that."

It was a solid argument, they both knew that.

But Colt was as stubborn as she was. He sniffed. "Well, I still don't like it. Is something going on between you two?"

"Like what?" she asked, despite knowing exactly what was going on between the two of them.

They had kissed. Once. Twice. Three times. Then a few more times until she couldn't really remember what was happening. All she knew was one moment they were kissing and the next moment she was riding home with Colt and Jody, bewildered, breathless, and giddy.

"I have no clue what you're on about," she said despite knowing exactly what he was on about, deciding that gaslighting her brother might be the best option at the moment. "We're just friends."

"Well, obviously," he scoffed, as if anything else was beyond the scope of his imagination.

Which—fair.

She couldn't exactly begrudge him for thinking that there was no chance in hell Parker could kiss someone like Tom Ryder. She could barely believe it, and she was the one that had done it. Still, she scowled at him, contemplating it she wanted to drop the subject entirely or tell him in explicit detail all the reasons he was an idiot, but before she could, the fitting room door opened, and in he walked.

He looked good.

He always looked good.

But today he looked especially good with his dewy skin and jean jacket. Or, maybe, Parker was just looking at him in a new light, and when his gaze landed on her, she couldn't help but grin at him.

"Hey, Tom," she said with a little too much enthusiasm. If he thought it was odd, however, he didn't comment on it. Just ran his gaze over her.

"Nice hat. I'm glad you're finally taking my advice and trying to improve your style, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"The—? Oh!" Parker snatched the top hat off her head with a blush, and in face of her karma, Colt snorted with pleased laughter. Ass. She shot him a side-eye before chirping, "it's Colt's, actually. I told him it looked ridiculous, but the prom is coming up, and Jody is just so exited. You should see his cummerbund. Straight out of the eighteen hundreds."

That effectively wiped the smirk off his face, and Colt started to argue just as Betty ushered him towards the privacy screen for another fitting.

Pleased, she blinked back at Tom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Colt dragged me along for his fittings. Something about being scared of the fashion department team," she joked in a half-whisper, gesturing to where he was hidden behind the privacy screen knowing that he wouldn't be able to hear her. "What are you doing here?"

"I just finished my fittings."

She perked. "Oh, you're done, then?"

He nodded just as Colt re-appeared from behind the screen. The flight suit had been replaced with a suave looking tuxedo that seemed to fit wrong in every place it could, and without knowing fashion at all, Parker had a feeling it would be a while before they finished pinning this particular look. Feeling both rebellious and like a high-schooler with a crush, she cast her brother a look. He immediately caught it, and returned one of his own.

Don't you dare, he said.

She lifted a brow testily. Oh, I dare, the look said.

And just like that, Parker faced Tom and asked, "you want to get lunch?"

"With you two?"

"I don't think Colt will be finished for awhile," she said, mock sincerity in her voice. Her brother heard it, face blustered and annoyed, as she batted her lashes across the room at him. "We could always bring him back something."

"But—!" Colt cried, gesturing at them so hard that he almost whacked Sasha in the head. He didn't even notice in his rush to argue, and it took both seamstresses to position him on the pedestal where they wanted him. "We were gonna get lunch!"

"Well, you're not done, and I'm starving."

"I—I could be done. Right?" he asked, turning his own version of puppy dog eyes towards Sasha and Betty. Unlike Jody and their mom, however, it seemed that they were immune to his charms, and together, they tutted at him. "...but—but!"

"This one needs a lot of work on it," Sasha said, as Betty patted him on the back. "And there's still four more looks to get through before we move you to hair and makeup for mock-ups."

"But—!"

"Don't worry Colt," she cooed at him with a victorious grin, and she would have felt bad for abandoning him if he hadn't been so adamant about his opinion on who she could be friends with. Plus, he accused her of being in a cult four times a year; this was his penance. "We'll bring you back something."

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Tom asked her once they were in the safety of the hallway.

Parker gave an impish look. "Just Colt being Colt. He gets mopey when he's hungry. Is Mexican okay? I really am starving."

His amusement turned scathing. "Mexican? That's all carbs. No fucking way, I just had my fitting done this morning, and I'm not going to have my pants let out."

She rolled her eyes. "Carbs are good for you," she tutted.

"Not that many."

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

Tom blinked at her—as if he couldn't believe she would suggest such a childish solution—and started off down the hallway without another word.

"Well—we can do two out of three!" she cried in his wake, and it wasn't until he disappeared around the corner did she realize that he might actually leave her to deal with Colt alone. Yelping, she rushed after him. "Okay, okay! Fine! Sushi?"

---

"I can't believe you actually eat this stuff," Parker whined twenty minutes later, a salad with more vegetables than she could name, quinoa, and some sort of vinaigrette dousing the top set out in front of her. The lettuce is limp when she lifts it with a fork, and she can't even pretend to find it appetizing as Tom munches through his. "Like, seriously? I'm not about to be Punk'D?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "You have to be famous to be Punk'D."

"I'm with you, aren't I?" she sassed, prodding the food like a toddler not allowed to leave the table before finishing their peas. She wrinkled her nose at the idea. "I get that salad is healthy or whatever, but don't you ever eat anything that tastes good?"

"This does taste good."

She shot him a look of disbelief to which he shrugged.

"I mean, kind of good," he corrected after a moment.

"It's disgusting. Why is it both limp and hard? You know an entire ethnic community eats all the carbs associated with Mexican food and they're thriving. Have you ever seen a Cinco de Mayo party? Unreal how much fun they're having."

"That's because they're drunk on tequila."

"Well, sure," she hedged, head tipping left and right as she tried to ignore the weird smell coming from the bowl in front of her. "But you gotta live a little, right?"

"I don't want to live a little," he corrected her, spitting out the word like it was distasteful. But he had that same sort of tone that he used when he was repeating something he heard a thousand times, but didn't necessarily believe. "I want to live to be a hundred, and I want to look good while doing that."

"Colt eats Mexican food," she argued.

"Colt isn't the face of a multi-million dollar movie franchise."

"No, just the body."

"Maybe you should have just gone out to lunch with Colt, then," he said, both look and tone cross.

And suddenly Parker felt like she had ceremoniously swallowed her foot in front of him. It hadn't occurred to her that he might have a touchy relationship with food, and guilt settled on her shoulders like a weight. She felt pretty stupid for not seeing that—just like she had told Colt, the amount of pressure he was under at all times was not something either sibling would be able to comprehend—and five minutes into lunch she had already made an ass of herself.

"Sorry," she said, stuffing limp lettuce into her mouth as if to prove that she agreed with him. It tasted gross, though, and Tom definitely didn't miss the way she had to choke it down. "Mhmm, it's so... salad-y."

Whether it was her tone or the look she made while saying it, something about the act worked, and when he shook his head she caught the edges of a smile peeking across his face.

Feeling better, Parker aimed for more neutral territory.

"So, your party was fun," she said, before immediately realizing that was clearly not a neutral territory if the way he paused in his chewing was anything to go by. The last thing she wanted was to come across as some sort of lovesick teenager, and she nearly choked on her tongue to add, "I just mean—Colt and Jody really liked it. She got to network a lot. Plus, Colt has been dying to see your house for, like, ever."

"He has?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "You guys have worked together for almost a decade. I think he's always wondered what your life outside of work looked like."

Tom digested that information as slowly as he digested his food, and she managed another bite of soggy, lemon-flavored lettuce before he decided on a reaction. "I didn't realize that he really cared."

"What do you mean?"

Tom shrugged; one of the rare moments he actually looked awkward while talking about something, and Parker set aside her fork to wash the bad flavor down with some bitter tasting kombucha.

Bad. It was all bad. The health food industry had to be some sort of joke.

"I don't know; just never really thought about hanging out with Colt outside of the set. I told you the stunt guys don't like me."

"What?" she deadpanned. "You? That is such shocking news. I'm shocked."

Tom huffed, then laughed, before shaking his head at her. "Don't be an ass."

"Me? Never."

"Never," he echoed, clearly mocking her. She didn't mind though. It wasn't vindictive or mean, and if it made him feel better, her ego could handle a little mocking banter. Especially when his shoulders relaxed as if a weight was being taken off them. "Whatever. Glad they, uh, had fun."

"Well, you know—open bar, secrets about the Hollywood elite. What wasn't there to like about the party?"

He nodded, another bite taken, as Parker miserably tried to force herself to eat her own food. When he had suggested a vegan salad spot, she hadn't been thrilled, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine it would be this bad.

"Did, uh," he cleared his throat, "you enjoy the party?"

"Hm?" she hummed, not properly hearing the question as she tried to figure out if the brown thing in her bowl was a raisin or a date. Then she did, and Parker blinked up to find Tom watching her carefully. "Oh. Yeah. Yes. I had, you know, lots of fun. With Colt, Jody, er... you."

He glanced away, nodding, before peeking back at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was... it was nice. I mean—not just the, er—you know. Not just when you—when I—when we..." she overemphasized, face hot and red as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. She absolutely didn't want to sound like their kiss was the only thing she had thought about all weekend, but she also didn't want to act indifferent because dating had somehow drifted into a game of tag nowadays.

Not that they were dating.

Oh god.

It was one kiss. Obviously they weren't dating, and he probably hadn't even thought about it a second time, and that's probably not what he was asking about in the first place, and—she was obsessing, wasn't she?

Oh, god.

"...um," Parker choked, swallowing some more kombucha before remembering she actually hated the taste of it. Wiping her mouth, she slumped onto the table with an embarrassed sigh. "Can you just put me out of my misery, please?"

Tom lifted a brow. "You might do that yourself. Are you having a stroke?"

"Maybe."

He passed over his cup of water, and Parker took a couple small sips until her cheeks didn't feel so hot. He was still watching her, still eating his food, but it was clear from the sparkle in his eye and the smug curve of his mouth that he was greatly enjoying the show. "Just wanted to make sure you had fun," he said.

"I would have had fun if we just played twenty questions," she said, catching the way he hesitated in his eating, before continuing. The cocky gleam was gone from his eye, and something kind remained when he glanced at her. "Not to complain about the... other stuff, but I meant everything I told you. I don't hang out with you for an open bar."

Tom's gaze swept the planes of her face before he nodded. It was a confident nod, for once, and he spoke he almost sounded... happy.

"Well, that's a relief at least. With how much you drink, I'm a little worried between you and Gail I'm going to go bankrupt this year. I swear every party costs more and more."

"Can't you set a budget?"

"It's Hollywood," he deadpanned, and she supposed that was an obvious enough answer that the deadpanning was necessary. "You think anything is ever under-budget?"

Parker wouldn't really know; the only thing she stuck to a budget for was Bath & Body Works lotions and Uber Eats. Just like he had said though, if she didn't, she was confident that she would be bankrupt within days.

Shrugging, she quipped, "next time you can just invite Jody and I. By keeping Colt away, you'll probably spare yourself a few thousand on alcohol alone. Though, he did behave himself last time since he was the designated driver, but I swear he's put a few bars out of business from Happy Hour deals alone."

Tom, another heaping of lettuce down, jabbed a fork at her. "Think I'd be better keeping you away considering how many napkins you took."

"Oh, shut up. They're, like, fifty cents each!"

"You had at least a hundred in you purse when you left."

"Well—" she threw her arms up, blustering, "it's not like I took all of them. Plus, when I sell them on eBay I'll give you a commission. Unlike when you got this fancy sci-fi role. I'm still waiting on my agent's fee for that one."

He shook his head at her. "Yeah, just hold your breath on that one."

With all the maturity she could muster, Parker stuck her tongue out at Tom, and with all the maturity he could muster, he chucked a carrot at her. It bounced onto the patio ground, and she noticed with a look of betrayal that not even the local squirrel population would touch it.

"Tom," she leaned forward, "I am begging you. I need carbs."

"You don't—"

"I'm going to die. Dramatically. And not quietly. Everyone will know, and they're going to think you killed me, and the tabloids will never let that go. Forgot living to a hundred, you'll be seventy and in a retirement home. Please."

Her pleading did nothing.

So, taking drastic measures, Parker used all of her own acting experience to flutter her eyelashes at him, eyes wide and dog-like. And whether it was the pathetic way she threw herself onto the table, or maybe it was the smell of the hotdog cart from down the street, but after a long moment of begging, Tom's shoulder sank with a sigh.

"Jesus Christ, fine."

"Oh, thank god," she slumped, a disgruntled look towards her salad and kombucha before the idea of real food had her perking right back up. She had tossed their stuff in the trash before Tom could manage one more bite of his salad, and though he tried to look disgruntled by that fact, when she tugged him to his feet with a giggle, he was fighting off a smile. "Have you ever had the monster burrito from Lolita's? It has cream cheese and pickles."

"That sounds disgusting."

"I know!" she bounced in excitement, pulling him along after her, gabbing all the way.

Tom let her drag him down the street without any complaint, let her order him her favorite burrito, chips, and Mexican lemonade without arguing—though he did try to see the calorie count on the menu before she snatched it away from him—and because they were on an empty set on a Sunday no one paid them much mind.

A good thing, too, because if someone had, they might have noticed the goofy grin she was wearing, or the amused smile he was; and if they looked closer, they might have even noticed that even after they got to where they were going, Tom Ryder was still holding her hand as they waited in line, letting her lean against his chest as they waited on their orders, before sitting awfully close to her on a little stone bench outside.

But, no one noticed.

Not until her shrill ringtone broke through their game of twenty questions about an hour later as her brother complained about how hungry he was. And though he suspected something weird was going on, not even Colt noticed the sly smiles they shared with one another when they delivered his food as promised or the spot of wet lipgloss smeared on Tom Ryder's mouth.

[worstvideogamesong-poll]

Worst Video Game Song Tournament Semifinals Match 1

This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy - Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! feat. Hatsune Miku

VERSUS

Main Theme - Beverly Hills Cop (PC)

FIGHT!

I would recommend listening to as much as you can of each song before voting, but how you choose is up to you! Remember to be civil in the tags and replies!

Propaganda under cut:

This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy:

"holy shit this song was suppossed to be what vivid bad squad (one of the bands in the game) was trying to surpass their entire first story arc. also this song was pulled out right after taiga (guy singing this song) told them that their idol is dead. and then they lost to Caucasion Destination Boy. jesus christ."

"[This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy] is so bad lyrically it's funny. Like, truly a monsterpiece."

"#I'M SORRY THAT'S THE SONG VBS IS TRYING TO SURPASS???? 💀"

"#I KEEP FORGETTING ABT THIS 'SONG' #same energy as im in the house like carpet"

"#HAHA YES IM SO HAPPY CAUCAISAN DESTINATION IS ON HERE #NO WONDER TOYA’S DAD HATES MODERN MUSIC 🔥🔥🔥"

"#HOLY SHIT THIS IS WHERE YOU ARE CAUCASIAN ON THE DASH #AHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA #EVERYONE LOSING THEIR SHIT OVER THAT SONG WHEN IT DROPPED WAS SO FUNNY"

"#[This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy] brought me to tears"

#i thought the title of [This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy] was a joke until i played it

"#LETS GO CAUCASIAN #TIME TO THROW YOUR FURB"

"#oh god [This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy] sounds like if imagine dragons had a lobotomy"

"#THIS IS WHERE YOU ARE CAUCASION DESTINATION BALLING SWEEP"

"#dude This Is Where Youre Caucasian is just so bad"

Beverly Hills Cop Theme:

"Hyper compressed and sounds like a dying ice cream truck. Awful to the point where it wraps back around to being good."

"Not going to mention in the propaganda that its the crazy frog song ??"

"#god I fucking love Axel F if it sounded like a crashed GBA so much it's atrocious #and the random stops mid-song"

"#[Beverly Hills Cop Theme] felt like i was listening to my computer have a seizure and die #yup. that video game song sure can bad"

"#yknow beverly hills cop theme is the best rendition of axel f i ever heard #purely because it sounds like getting an mri and i love mris <3"

[the-bloody-sadist]

please I wanna hear more about your thoughts on sweet pool, it was such an odd vn to me but at the same time i'm so happy I played it

DUUUUUUDE!!!!!! THAT SHIT WAS SO WEIRD!!! (POSITIVE)

Lmfao so first of all, I'm a huge audiophile (and I say that to mean any audio, most of all voices and VA performances and sound design), and JESUS CHRIST THE CAST THEY GOT FOR SWEET POOL????? HELLO??? God, I adore Youji's VA, and I'll never NOT be impressed by his ability to play both the character for Sweet Pool as well as Doumeki in Saezuru wa Tori Habatakanai TO SUCH PINPOINT ACCURACY....

I'll ramble too much if I let myself. But the ART, the MUSIC, the ROUTE CHOICES, the PORTRAYAL OF CHRONIC DEPRESSION, the HALLUCINATIONS, the BODY HORROR...THE PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLS!!!!!!!!! DAMN!!!!! It just had everything I hoped for, EXCEPT FOR LIKE ONE GOOD ENDING WITH TETSUO. CRIES EXPLOSIVELY. COULD I NOT JUST HAVE ONE. FOR HURT COMFORT'S SAKE.

It's been YEARS since I played that game but damn I was fucked up for weeks after finishing all the Tetsuo routes especially, and Sweet Pool I think was the only Nitro+Chiral game where I liked every character's route and enjoyed playing through them. Makoto a bit less so, but he made up for it in the end because WOW WHAT A BANGER on his bad route.

Again, it was my first Chiral game, so everything I played after was like "oh...this is just a copy of Makoto's type in a new setting. Oh....this is the same outcome as Zhenya with a new face. Oh...Chiral just really likes these tropes and uses them over and over again....okay." BUT HEY, I LIKE THOSE TROPES SO AT LEAST THAT.

I think my favorite part about SP though is, ironically, the fake omegaverse rep. Since I'm such a hater of A/B/O, you'd think I'd hate SP, but it's actually exactly what I'd want instead of the real omegaverse stuff I see. Please miss me with that shit on slick and pregnancy and alpha scenting, I want blood and freaky organisms living in your stomach like parasites and hallucinogens from the weird stalker guy at school. IF ONLY ALL OMEGAVERSE WAS PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR! AH....SO SAD.

Anyway, Zhenya had my favorite route at the time I played it (I cannot escape the kidnapping trope...Shiki from TnC was why I played TnC and he's my favorite Chiral character aside from Youji....), but looking back, I think all of Tetsuo's are my favorite, now. Once I got over the crippling depression of how sad all the endings were, I remembered how fucking intriguing Tetsuo's character was to me. I really like the types that are freakishly alien with their emotional expression and you never know if they're trying to hurt the MC or harm him until several layers into the story. And even then, you still don't know, because they just come off as creeps either way. It's terrifying.

I think the only element I didn't like was the fact that made the meat babies and whatever ACTUALLY REAL. I didn't want the supernatural shit or the annoying ass priest or whatever he was (I wasn't listening to DOUKA....DOUKA!!! every scene) confirming the reality of what was going on with Youji, I just wanted the psychological insanity and for Youji to actually be experiencing all this because of mental illness. I just hate supernatural or religious shit in my horror, though, so that's my own pickiness.

ANYWAY. OTHER THAN THAT! Sweet Pool will always stand out for me because it was my first, and it truly disturbed me because I didn't know people could make VNs that catered to exactly what I wanted, and at the time I was a baby to yaoi, so imagine my surprise when I discovered there was a whole world of people making the exact content I thought only I wanted to see.

THERE, WAS THAT ENOUGH OF MY THOUGHTS FOR YOU??? YOU'LL NEVER WANT TO HEAR FROM ME AGAIN!!!

[i-cant-stop-fandoming-help]

Bored so. Dra characters and if i think theyd be shit parents or not. (Not including people who are canonically parents)

I will reblog this with the sdra2 characters and what i think theyd be like as parents.

Mitch: he'd be an absent father

Kiyoka: i mean. She'd probably do decently enough. She wouldnt be perfect but she wouldnt be awful, either.

Kizuna: it really depends!! If shes a single mother, i think she'd really struggle with it. Both of her parents were bad, but still in her life, and as a single mother... i think she may unintentionally be bad. BUT!!! If she has a good partner, i think she, like kiyoka, could be a decent mother. I think she'd also definitely need to get some sort of therapy before being a mother, just so she can unlearn things that minako taught her.

Ayame: she'd definitely be a good mother! She'd make sure her child has a good balance between everything. 25/25/25/25 for games, excersize, schoolwork, and anything else. She would care a lot.

Kakeru: probably a good dad. I think he'd adopt kids, maybe teenagers, and try his best to make sure theyre happy as can be.

Kanata: like kakeru, i think she'd be adopting. And i think she'd be a good mom. After the good ando and his wife did for her, by adopting her and raising her with care and love, she'd want to do the same for other children out there.

Kinji: part of me is tempted not to include him because of the orphans.... hes actually their dad now. He was willing to kill to keep them safe so... hes at least decent. At most hes a great parent.

Haruhiko: probably decent. Not the best, not the worst.

Satsuki: i mean... i dunno she feels a bit complicated. She was raised in a large family. Her parents basically saw her as something else to help them profit, as they probably did with all of their kids. Almost all of her siblings saw her as competition instead of family. Keisuke was basically acting as her father, because neither of their parents did a proper job raising her. I think she'd have to realize how wrong all of this was before having her own kids-- only then do i think she'd be better than decent. Also i think it'd be best if she only had 2-3 kids because we are NOT repeating what her mother did. 21 KIDS???? JESUS CHRIST

Yamato: from the sounds of everything, Hanzo did a good job raising him. Because of his strong sense of morality, i think he'd be a good father. Not great, but not just decent, either. I think he'd help his kid with a lot of things, but possibly, unintentionally, make his kid worry about living up to expectations.

Mikako: i think she'd be a very caring mother. Not overprotective or a "they can do no wrong!" mother, but she'd care for her kids as if her life depends on it. I think, if there were ever a possibility of her finding out what kokoro did to her, it'd mess her up a bit and she'd worry more about failing as a mother.

Utsuro: ........would he even be present? I dont know. I dont think he'd even want to be a father.

Akane: its easy to imagine her as a mother, but shes gone through hell and back and she's experienced lots of poor treatment. She didnt really have a mother for a lot of her life, because her mother died when she was still young. She never knew her father. I dont think she really had any good parental figures in her life, other than the possibility of another maid or two caring for her when she was just starting out and when she grew up. But so many people have harmed her that... i think she'd be scared of having a child. I think she wouldn't want to bring a child into the world, knowing they could suffer the same hell she did. Knowing how cruel the world is. So, i dont know if she'd be a good or bad mom. I don't think she'd want kids.

Teruya: kojiro set a good example for him! He'd probably be a good/great dad! Bbbbbut theres a chance his kid could end up being terrified at the idea of being the heir to otorimart.

Tsurugi: SHIT FATHER!!! Maybe in a happier timeline, he would be decent. Maybe if given the time to escape the beliefs that his father placed on him, he would be decent. But if we go by the tsurugi seen in sdra2... i just dont think he'd be a good father at all.

Rei: AMAZING MOTHER. LISTEN TO ME. She's smart. She knows that what she experienced as a child was wrong. She would not want her own child to feel as unloved as she did. She was abandoned and had to fend for herself on the streets while she was still young. She would be hesitant on having a child, but she'd be an amazing mom to any offspring she has. I actually have written a fic with her as a mom! it's uh. for the fankidronpa i'm helping write. Here's the link. (it's going to be released in parts bit by bit as the fankidronpa itself actually releases, to expand on a character more :3)

Keisuke: i said it in satsukis portion, but he practically raised her. She was practically his daughter. (Meaning he likely experienced parentification of some sort which is a topic for another time.) But I think he'd actually do pretty good! At least... that's regarding DRA keisuke. SDRA2 Keisuke would not do as well, probably. He'd be decent, still, but after beginning to follow the same beliefs that Tsurugi follows... I don't know how to explain it, but I think he'd fail a bit in certain areas.

Ryutaro and Midori: Honestly? I don't know, with these two. But... I think they'd have to adopt. If they wanted children at all, I think they'd have no choice but to adopt. Why am i including them together?........ Listen they're the only ship i'm going to include in this post. They're their own people away from the ship, yes, but i think it'd be the same either way. The only difference is that I think ryutaro might not want children, and Midori would be worried about adopting a child at all due to the fear that she could die from any sickness at any random time.

Anyways it's 2:08 AM and I am your locally insane dra fan.

[loserboysandlithium]

*This is an excerpt from my Rockstar Eddie fic Bad Things(found on my other account) but this is switched to y/n. Eddie is kind of an asshole. But a hot one.* ⚠️Explicit sexual content. Minors DNI. Cheating.⚠️

*******

You hear your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You see Eddie's name on the screen. His contact photo is still one of you and him. A big grin on his face as you kiss his cheek. It's one of your favorite pictures.

You hesitate for a moment as you glance over at Max sleeping soundly. Shit.

"Eddie, I can't talk right now." you whisper into the phone.

"Dickhead there?" his deep tone immediately sending you into a spiral.

"Yes.. Max is here."

"Is he next to you?" he continues in a low tone.

"Yes, Eddie. He's sleeping.. I have to go." you try but he rushes to speak.

"You don't have to say anything. Just listen, yeah?"

Fuck, you know that tone. And you know where this is going. Bad thoughts enter your mind immediately. Say it, Eds. Please say it.

"Touch yourself baby.." Eddie orders through the phone.

Yes.

"I can't Eds.." you say in a hushed tone. Your eyes flick back to Max who is snoring lightly.

"For me?" he pouts.

"Eddie..."

"You know you're going to, stop with the fucking games." he chuckles and you feel annoyed but turned on at the same time. He's not wrong.

You slip your hand in your panties, feeling the slickness coat your fingers.

"Are you touching yourself?" you can practically hear his stupid little smirk through the phone.

"Yes." you give in.

"That's my good girl.. start slow." His voice is deep. Demanding.

"Rub your clit for me, sweetheart."

You begin making small circles, listening to his voice.

"Fuck I wish I was there." Eddie moans in your ear, making you even wetter.

"What next, baby?" you breathe into the phone.

"Mm.. is that pussy wet?"

"Mhmm. So wet." you moan quietly.

"Fuck.. go faster baby."

You speed up your fingers as your breathing picks up.

"I'm gonna make you fucking scream next time I see you." he snarls.

You can hear his breathing getting ragged on the other end of the phone.

"I'm.. fuck, I'm gonna fuck you so hard." he growls and you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

You move your fingers in and out even faster. A soft whimper escapes your lips.

"Don't cum yet, baby. We're gonna cum together." Eddie groans.

Your eyes close as you listen to him.

"I can't wait to fucking taste you. God, I miss that pussy." he pants.

"I miss your cock, Eds."

"I know you do, baby. And I'm gonna give it to you soon... really fucking soon sweetheart."

You try to keep your noises quiet but you can feel your orgasm building quickly.

"Promise?"

"Oh I promise.. I'm gonna fuck you real good."

"E-Eddie.." you pant breathlessly.

"You're a bad girl, y/n. Thinking about me when he's right next to you." Eddie laughs wickedly.

"You're... such an asshole." you moan and he laughs again.

"Are you my little slut... hmm? You're a little slut for me, aren't you?" he hums and you feel yourself right on the edge.

"Y-yes.." you whimper.

"Do you miss me, baby?"

"Always." you let out a hushed moan.

"Mmm.. almost there baby... I'm almost there." he moans in your ear.

"Cum for me, Eddie." you moan louder than intended. Max rolls over and your breathing stops.

His snoring resumes a second later as you hear Eddie breathing heavily.

"Are you close?"

"S-so close." you whisper as your back begins to arch. Your body tingles all over as you play with your pussy.

"I wanna hear how wet you are." he demands.

You take the phone and place it low, your fingers moving quickly, the sounds of your excitement loud.

You let him listen for a moment before bringing him back to your ear.

"Jesus Christ.." Eddie lets out a needy moan bringing you even closer.

"I want you inside me, Eddie." you say as glide your fingers in and out faster and faster.

"You want me deep in that pussy?"

"Yes." you breathe.

"So fucking deep, baby?" he mumbles deeply.

"S-so deep." you let out an unrestrained moan.

"You're gonna wake up your boy toy, y/n." Eddie teases.

"Fuck you." you whimper.

"Soon. Cum for me. Be a good girl and..."

"Ohhh." your muscles clamp down around your fingers and you bite down on your lip trying to conceal your cry of pleasure.

"Sh-shit..." you hear deep grunt of satisfaction followed by shallow breaths and know he finished as well.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you slow your breathing.

"Talk soon, sweetheart." Click.

Fucking prick.

[hawkinsmethlab]

Part One

Read on AO3

They want to throw him a party whenever he gets released from the hospital.

“You know,” Dustin says with a shrug, “before the world goes tits up, or whatever.”

“Dude!” Steve smacks him across the back of the head, knocking off his hat.

Dustin gapes at him. “What?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that!” His eyes flash over to Wayne, who knows the whole story because Eddie’s been on the good drugs and tells his uncle fucking everything, especially when he’s high. He’s got a raised brow and a half-smile, which is basically a laugh.

Dustin smacks his hat on his knee before putting it back on. “What, I can’t say ‘tits up?’ We’re all adults here.”

“You’re fourteen.”

“Excuse you, I’ll be fifteen in three weeks, you know this.”

“Still not an adult.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Ladies, please.” Eddie holds up a still-shaking hand to get them to shut up for a second. “You’re both pretty. And as much as I would love any chance to let loose and live young… I’m not too sure now’s the best time for it.”

His hospital room has a window that Wayne keeps the blinds drawn for, no matter what time it is, but Eddie knows what’s on the other side all the same. He sees it in his nightmares plenty. A red, cloudy sky that crackles with lightning, the chokes the light out of the daytime and turns nighttime into one of the seven rings of hell.

Eleven says that Vecna is getting stronger. That it’ll be a while before he’s back up to full fighting strength, but that she thinks he’ll be more powerful than ever when he is. And Will’s been having visions of what he thinks are glimpses into the Upside Down, into the stuff that hasn’t already leaked into Hawkins. Will says they’ve been both unhelpful and just generally bad.

Not to mention that Max is still asleep, and that’s a whole other can of worms that everyone is trying to be optimistic about, but Eddie can see their hope draining by the day.

“That’s exactly why we need something to celebrate,” Dustin says. “Everything sucks right now, and it’s probably gonna keep sucking for a while—”

“Like a while,” Steve chimes in.

“—so we should take every chance we get to, as you said, let loose and live young. For morale.”

Which is great, and a part of Eddie agrees, but that’s the part from before. Where something like facing off against an alternate-dimension-evil-bad-guy was from out of a board game. Before this was real, where it’s outside and under his skin and those bats stole like, half of his tattoos and his nipple.

He nearly died, and all of them still could.

“I’m just not sure it’s the best time,” Eddie says.

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Okay, well when exactly—”

It’s Steve’s hand on his shoulder than cuts him off and a shake of his head that has Dustin slumping back in his seat. Eddie hates to see the kid put down like this, hates that he was the one to do it, but when he tries to say something to apologize, anything, the words get stuck.

Then it’s Wayne’s hand on Eddie’s arm and his uncle’s eyes are familiar and gentle. For someone who everyone thinks is such a gruff guy, Eddie’s always though it was obvious how much of a wuss Wayne is. Or, maybe wuss isn’t the best word. What do you call someone who’s lived through what he has and come out kinder for it?

Wayne gives him a squeeze and says, “Dustin, I need some fresh air but my knee’s been acting up with all this…not-rain. I hate to ask, but do you think—”

The kid practically jumps to his feet. “Oh, sure, Mr. Munson, I’d be happy to help out! Y’know, my granny says that I have an intuitive touch for the older generations.”

“Well, I think that’s just what I need. What else does your granny say about you?”

“Oh man, where do I even start? There was this one time, in first grade—”

Then they’re both out the door, shutting it behind them, and Eddie lets his head fall back with a sigh. “Jesus Christ, that kid.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, moving to sit in Wayne’s now-empty chair. “My mom would say that he grows on you like a fungus, but he’s just trying to help.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie can’t look at him, so he looks at the ceiling instead, at those corkboard-y panels that seem to always have stains on them. Anywhere else you go, those stains would usually just be water from leaky pipes or rain, but here they’re all sorts of different things. Water, blood, vomit, medicine. Whatever’s managed to get high enough.

(There’s a weed joke in there somewhere, Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t have the will to make it. How sad is that)?

“It’s weird, though,” Steve says, and Eddie feels him lean forward. Feels the heat of him on his arm, crawling up his neck. “Eddie Munson, dodging the spotlight. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Well, here it is.” It comes out a little bitter. “Thought it was time for a change of pace.”

“I don’t know. I kind of liked the old pace.”

When Eddie looks over, Steve’s already looking back. He’s smiling, just a small one, like he’s teasing him. Because he does that now. Teases Eddie like they’re real friends, makes him feel like he’s going insane, like maybe he actually did die back in the Upside Down and everything that’s happened after has just been some crazy, fucked up version of the afterlife.

Except, Steve saved him. He doesn’t remember who told him, but someone must have, because the first day Eddie woke up (or really, the first day he remembers) that had been his first full thought.

Harrington gave me the goddamn kiss of life.

Followed immediately by:

He’s gonna lord this over me forever.

But Steve hasn’t even mentioned it. Eddie has some vague sort-of memory of one of them saying it probably tasted gross, but beyond that it just hasn’t come up, and it’s leaving him feeling kind of off balance. Like he’s forgotten the chords to his favorite song. His fingers are hovering over the strings, ready to play, but he doesn’t know what kind of sound is going to come out.

It was easy when they were both in school. Jock Harrington and Freak Munson, two opposite ends of the spectrum, never to collide past some classic teenage bullying and the occasional drug deal.

Now, they’re Steve and Eddie. Harrington and Munson, the savior and the saved. Two maybe-friends who apparently swapped spit, but in a totally I-had-to-do-it kind of way and the worst part is that Eddie doesn’t remember a single second of it.

He wonders, if he were to start flatlining, if Steve would do it again.

(But of course he wouldn’t. There are doctors and nurses around for that now, because that’s the only reason he did it in the first place, right? He was the only one who could, and Eddie’s grateful, but maybe also a little bit…ashamed? Stupid, for sure. He knows that it was last resort only, that he wouldn’t even think about doing it again unless he really had to, but here Eddie is, praying he might anyway).

“You just want an excuse to get drunk,” Eddie tells him, because he has to say something. Steve is looking at him like that, and he has to say something.

But then Steve’s smile goes a little wider, almost cocky, and he says, “Munson, I don’t need an excuse to get drunk, thank you very much.” Then, quieter, “Although, I’ve gotta admit, it’d be nice to get drunk because someone’s alive for a change.”

Eddie shouldn’t get it, but he does. He realizes it like a slap to the face, a big ohhhhhh. Steve Harrington, of the big house and the new money and the nice car, gets drunk for the same reason Eddie Munson gets high: to forget. The people they’ve let down, the ones who’ve left, to the ones who keep leaving. To the fact that maybe it’s never gonna get better and their entire lives are gonna be a big ol’ circle of finding and losing and regretting.

Finding people, losing them, regretting all the rest.

Steve is sitting next to him, staring at Eddie like he’s someone else, someone better, and Eddie thinks that he wants to break the cycle.

So, he groans and rolls his eyes. “Fine. Damn it, alright. We can have your little party.”

“Not my party.” Steve’s close to beaming, smug.

“Dustin’s party then.” Eddie bites his lip so he doesn’t laugh at how stupid this is. “He’s got big shoes to fill, though, I want a party that’s gonna put all of King Steve’s ragers to shame. I never got to actually have fun at one, y’know. Always too busy handing out the party favors.”

Steve snorts. “I’ll make sure it’s nothing but the best for you. Want me to roll out the red carpet, too?”

“Like it’s the goddamn Oscars.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

And then he winks, and Eddie realizes just how close they are. Steve’s leaning on the bed, their arms brushing, their faces close enough that Eddie could count every single one of Steve’s moles, pick out every individual shade of brown in his eyes and the smell of his body wash. The way his lips are parted and curved and Eddie has never wished more desperately that he remembered what they felt like. The taste of him, the amount of pressure and give, if he would bite and lick better.

It's a dangerous fantasy.

But Steve is looking at him like it’s real.

Before he can say anything, do anything, Steve leans back and says, “Once you’re out, I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

And Eddie, hopelessly fucked, can only say, “Can’t wait.”

[yourlegacysnotyourstosee]

I took notes on my thoughts while watching Nerdy Prudes Must Die because I did the same for Black Friday

DAMN Jon said “I am a TENOR”

I literally can’t get over how good he sounds

AHHHHHH LAUREN!!!!!

Bro these songs SLAP

Damn Mariahs hair is so long

Pete is such a mood

I’m literally terrified of being pantsed so bad

BRUH NOT MICRO-PETER

Omg hey Kim

When Cory enthusiastically agrees I’m dying

Omg Max likes Grace???????

Wait that’s so cute

Wait why’s he kinda fine

“His name is Jesus Christ” HELP 💀💀💀💀💀

It’s giving Apex Predator (from Mean Girls)

Damn these HARMONIES THO

My jaw is on the floor the way Cory is talking to her

“How am I supposed to study without listening to Spotify?” ME LMFAO

I KNOW HE DID NOT JUST MAKE AN ISSAC NEWTON JOKE

The way hes like “this is about thermodynamics” me me me. I hate when people make jokes about the things we’re not even talking about.

“NANI” NO WAY HE SAID THAT HELP💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀I LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE 💀💀💀💀💀💀

Study date????????

Joey Richter my beloved ❤️❤️❤️

When Max enters and the crowd cheers

“Rondevuch”

Max literally has a God complex

Why is Kim everyones mom?

“Walen place”?????

“Mom will you pass the butt stuff????” HELP SHES BEEN CORRUPTED

NO WAY SHES FANTASIZING ABOUT MAX JAGERMAN

LITERALLY WHAT

Awwww Grace is experiencing Catholic Guilt™ ❤️❤️❤️

Girl wdym “he’s gotta go”???

Laurens character is bisexual???????

“WAIFU MATERIAL”?????? I literally can’t get over Jons character

Wait Grace is a little fucked up actually

Wait since the Waylons built hatchetfield high and the starlight theater, could they have cursed the town somehow? Like I know about the evil brothers or whatever, but I’m not super familiar with the lore

Wait I kind of love Grace now

Mariah slays

“Am I reading as Ghost, or Lin Manuel Miranda?” AWWWWWW❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Your fucking useless Pete.” Tgwdlm???? In MY npmd???? It’s more likely than you think

I’m very suspicious about how fast they seemed to put the plan together…

I know the plan wont work and Im so nervous I’m getting secondhand embarrassment so bad rn

“Skele-ens”

I need Max Jagerman actually

Awwww Max is a Theater Kid ❤️❤️❤️

AW FUCK HE DIED

HOLY FUCK HE DIED

GIRL WTF IS WRONG WITH GRACE

I love how upbeat this song is

WHYD SHE CUT HIS NIPPLES OFF WTF

Omg Dan and Donna!

Slay Mayor Lauter

His reaction to being asked to the game is giving- “she asked me for the time” “no way” “way :D”

THE NIGHTHAWKS MASCOT 💀💀💀💀

FUCK CLIVESDALE

DAMN THEYRE IN THE SPLITS GOOD FOR THEM

I like that the football team has only 2 players

I love when actors walk through the audience, but ESPECIALLY here when hes stalking Richie bro looks so good

Listen I know he’s about to kill Richie but HES SO FINE HELP

Im literally so Gay bro

THE SMOKE CLUB!!!!!!

THE NIGHTMARE TIME THEME

When she says hes not hot anymore girl speak for yoursef

Please let Grace swear

Oh fuck they’re giving themselves away

Grace Chastity said “acab”

Cory needs more songs

MAN IN A HURRY RETURNS!!!!!

Damn who is this girl in a trenchcoat 😍😍😍

GERALD OH MY GOD

Random side note but what happened to Robert? I was just thinking about how I wish we could see Hidgens again but is Robert still a part of Starkid anymore? Is he on to Bigger and Better things? Does anyone know what those are? I’d love to continue to support him.

Edit: NVM NVM I TAKE IT BACK I DO NOT WANT TO SUPPORT ROBERT MANION NO NO NO SIR

The invisible bird. Literally high school theater

“Heahs the thang about ah bahbecue”

“Ah wawna remember who ah ayum”

Ruth is so real for not know when to do the lights bc the cue lines were wrong

Ugh Laurens voice is so good and I know ive said that about pretty much everyone but it’s true

I know shes about to die rn

The red lighting gave it away

THE WAY HE LOOKS INTO CAMERA AFTER HE KILLS HER I NEED HIM SO BAD

Why did Kim scream like that

Awww Grace has religious trauma now ❤️❤️❤️

THE COPS THEME

OH MY GOD PAUL AND EMMA!!!!!!!!!

He gave her his number❤️❤️❤️

Hot chocolate boy!!!!!!!! I knew Peter was the hot chocolate boy but still

This duet is EVERYTHING

Obsessed with the fact he called MARIAH ROSE FAITH a MEAN GIRL

“Axe wielding maniacs?”

The Waylons did not dig that shit very deep…

OH FUCK THEY HAVE TO SUMMIN THE LORDS IN BLACK

I KNEW THE WAYLONS BUILT LAKESIDE MALL

im so sorry Zombie Max is So Fine

WIGGLY

THEY HAVE HUMAN FORMS??????

“Let me check my Christmas list”

“What do you want steph?” MORE tgwdlm? In MY npmd?

I feel bad for not knowing all their names

Max says bitch a lot

Damn this show is long

Omg this is so sad im tearing up a lil

Max is so fucking funny

Damn Grace is seducing Max this is hilarious

Fuck Grace Chastity or kill some nerds? One of the many difficult decisions in life

He decides to fuck Grace Chastity

OH MY GOD THATS SO SMART

Thats some fuckin Macbeth level shit

Kims teacher character is so cute awwwww

Paul and Bill dance Chaperones??????

Oh nvm that’s Jason

I don’t think I ever mentioned it but the dancing is really good

It’s very clean and crisp

In the last 2 hours I very quickly developed a massive crush on Will Branner

OH FUCK

WHATS GOING ON

WHAT

[headlessjest]

Y'all thought I was only a artist? Nuh uh!!! I got some dadness combat Hc stuff for y'all!!!! (Sorry if my grammar and writing is bad. I do write a lot but rarely post it and mainly keep it to myself.)

(All of this is platonic!!!)

Hank:

・To be honest, he's not gonna be the best father/parent figure in the world. He's a murderer for Christ sake! But he sometimes do set aside his responsibilities for you. Not all the time though.

・He sometimes forgets to feed you and when he does remember, they'll just give you a hot dog. Hope you don't choke on it.

・They'll play with you when he has the time to, but he's often busy 24/7.

・You one time threw up in bed and since he was too tired to clean your bed up, they just took you into his bed and let you sleep with him for the night. (Your room smelled awful in the the morning though..)

・Ya know how toddlers/little kids squirm away from their parents when it's feeding time or running away before going to bed? That's you both but 10 times more rougher and violent with it. He threw you once and you almost tore off their finger once.

Deimos:

・Smoker dad. He's a smoker dad, but he tries not to smoke around you, even if you don't mind it. Doesn't want you coughing a lot around him, almost sounding like you're dying.

・He also sometimes forgets to feed you, but he doesn't just give you a hot dog like Hank. He actually finds food that you don't choke on and feeds you it.

・I think some of y'all know my child! Reader design where reader has a harness right? Well, Deimos is the only one where he doesn't have to use it a shit ton. Because he always carries you by your feet.

・I think Deimos would try to rock you to bed no matter what age, both lovingly or just to tease you.

・Deimos always loves it when you watch him play games. He even loves it when you point out obvious things he didn't notice in the game.

Sanford:

・Probably the best dad out of all of them. He's such a loving guy and a massive sweetheart. Most likely got it from his mom.

・Would go nuts when you get an injury. He would flail around trying to find bandades, bandages, etc whilst comforting you at the same time.

・He loves to relax with you on the couch. When both of you are just really tired, you'll just relax on the couch and most likely fall asleep.

・He never forgets to feed you. He gets the right stuff and always has a timer for breakfast, lunch, pre dinner, and dinner.

・Whenever you get sick, he puts all his plans aside just to take care of you. He doesn't want to see his kid in pain.

Jebediah:

・Honestly, he's a neutral dad. He can be kinda strict but only due to his trust issues around Nevada, but he does care for you and wants you to have fun.

・He's always busy so he has a schedule that he always runs by to you when he heads out. He does write it down just incase you do forget though.

・His voice is genuinely comforting to me, so if you can't sleep or something, he'll read you a bedtime story or even sing you a lullaby.

・He never forgets to feed you, but when he's out for something, he has premade food and extra snacks just incase.

・You one time followed him and accidently got yourself dragged into the project nexus shit. He wasn't happy about that.

Tricky:

・Jesus Christ he's not a great parent. He a immortal demon clown and you expect him to be a good dad?

・He does feed you but not the right stuff...

・He one time took you on a high speeded ride throughout Nevada and he somewhat regrets it. You became temporarily deaf for awhile.

・Whenever you're tired but you can't sleep, he always, like always starts a pillow fight with you, hoping for it to tire you down.

・Honestly doesn't care if you get fed to much candy. He'll just let you rob a candy store and then eat it.

Sheriff:

・He's also a pretty great dad, but his cowardly ways can sometimes get in the way of being a parent in general.

・Don't be fooled by his cowardly ways, he will not hesitate to fight just for you. Except for Hank. You both will run away.

・Always loves it when you wake him up first thing in the morning just to eat breakfast. You're like an alarm for him.

・He one time showed you around Merc and you gotten pretty close with Church and Jorge. Y'all are like siblings pretty much.

・He one time let you wear his hat and you didn't give it back to him after. He genuinely had to find a new hat.

2BDamned:

・So he's not a good dad but he's also not a bad dad. He's also a little bit more stricter than Jeb.

・When you don't really work with him by eating or going to bed, he sometimes puts you in timeout.

・He also is way more better at fixing you up when you got hurt or sick.

・He never let's you have sweets. He always gets those vegan snacks that you thought were bad but are actually pretty good.

・Some of y'all would probably get this, but you know when you're working with your dad with something like the car, and you freak out when your dad asks for a certain tool and he gets upset from you not getting it quickly, yeah that's you two.

Phobos:

・Phobos is not a good dad. Final answer.

・The only few things that're sweet is that he always keeps the drawings you give to him. He'll look at them once in awhile when he's working.

・He always have his workers babysit you, the only times he's around you is when it's bed time or when all the workers can't babysit you.

・When he first saw that you were one of the cloning failures, he was gonna kill you, before you accidentally touched his heart by doing literally nothing.

・He watches over you on the cameras when you're hanging out with the workers and sometimes laughs a bit to himself when he sees you mess with them.

Auditor:

・They're not a really great dad. They always care about their work and gets a little upset they're not there for you.

・One time, you wandered into their office and just casually sat on their lap and slept there. They didn't move a single inch during that.

・You sometimes remind them of a cat, so they sometimes even carry you like a cat.

・Despite not having any lips, they try to give something that resembles a forehead kiss. Like a headbump or something.

・They hate that you grow up faster than them. (I Hc auditor that they're like 1000 years old or smth) They don't like that they'll see you grow right in front of their eyes and them not age a single bit.

Omg that last one was sad, uh.. Hope y'all like this..? Like I said before, sorry for any grammatical errors, writing errors, etc.

-Jester

[imagine-silk]

Peter carrying around the reader and squeezing them super tight is so adorable ahh

I can imagine the reader having a bad day (maybe they took their mask off for a little but got really over-stimulated without their lenses dimming the lights, anything really) so they go to Peter for a hug. Peter is very willing to oblige, even if he's got some meeting with Miguel and other spiders, he will just bring the reader with him even if Miguel tries to tell him no. Peter's also pretty sure the reader is way too busy trying to focus on calming down to even listen to whatever they're talking about in the meeting

》The very same thought came to me while writing the other one. A man of culture I see.

Peter B taking Autistic!Younger!Spider to a meeting

He felt more than a little bad. When you first came to him he was proud you came for help and he thought it would be an easy fix, it should have been. You got your mask back on and got to your apartment. Ten minutes later you called him again, under the blanket in the living room on the rug. By all means you should have been fine so why were you still crying?

He didn't blame you for anything or think it was a hassle, he just wanted you okay again. "What do you think you need?"

"A hug?" He wasn't going to deny it even though it sounded like a question. Peter slipped his arms under the blanket and pulled you out into his arms so he could hug you leaning back on the couch. If he actually moved onto the couch it could have made you more uncomfortable and he didn't want to test it. His back would deal with it later.

It was hard to say how long you were there. Not long enough. "Peter, I need you to come in."

"I'm a bit busy." Peter knew you were still awake, just didn't want to move. Miguel was in charge but Peter had never been afraid of him. 

"No you're not." There was a back and forth. Peter said he didn't want to leave you and Miguel said 'too bad' and that leaving you was the responsible thing to do. He wouldn't always be there and you were halfway there so it would be good to ease into learning to deal by yourself. Peter gave him a smile that held mischievous smug intent. "Do not bring them here."

It was almost comical how he walked in with your feet dangling. "Jesucristo, ¿por qué pensé que alguna vez escucharías? Estoy loco para pensar eso."

"I planned ahead. You won't even know we're here."

"That's not the problem, tonto." Miguel said, dragging his hand down his face before letting it fall to his side. "This can be sensitive information meant for senior members only."

"You have eyes don't you? [Name]'s a bit out of commission." Before Miguel could continue Peter cut him off. "Glad we're on the same page." So there he sat at the round table with you smushed to his chest. He made no effort to move so Miguel gave in, not wanting to drag this out into a fight or bother you. Even if you were in a state to listen he knew you wouldn't do anything with the information and he did care for your well-being, that meant you stayed.

Every time you moved he held you harder. It was to reassure you while also keeping quiet. Peter did see how some of the others looked over every so often with various reasons and he carried on like nothing was different. But to them he knew it was probably weird he wasn't being loud and proud during a meeting. No, his pride was for a different reason and very silent.

The meeting was boring and it was over pretty quickly. Everyone shuffled out while Peter sat back with Miguel. "You're playing a dangerous game, Parker." 

"That's not what you call me." He said with a small smirk. Miguel was less than amused. Peter didn't really care about how his obvious favoritism was received. "You still with me, kid?" There was no answer. "'S good sign."

Then someone started walking up and shouted to get their attention. "Hey, O'Hara, I was wondering-"

"Lyla." They said in unison and the door shut in the spider's face.

Translation: Jesus Christ, why did I think you would ever listen? I'm out of my mind to think that.