#seriously kathy is the best

[stupid-cocoa]

okay what did i just walk in on

i love you kathy...

[nerdy-novelist017]

https://www.tumblr.com/nerdy-novelist017/754460919348740096/benny-cross-is-the-definition-of-scary-boyfriend

Ok yes but also I wanted him to protect Kathy so bad and it just. Never happened 💔💔

We can fix it with fanfiction ;) Enjoy another one shot to pair with my Benny x Bunny series! Again this isn't the next part, just a little idea I had!

Word Count-2.2k+

Summary- Head wounds look a lot worse than they actually are, at least that's what you were trying to tell Benny, but he was so worried, you doubt he's hearing you.

Warnings- Blood, Violence

Broken Glass (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The bar was crowded. You’d never seen so many Vandals gathered in one place in a long time. With an abundance of fresh faces wearing the colors, it was almost like a completely new club. 

Your knee bounced as anxiety manifested itself into your body. You weren’t so nervous of the familiar faces that sat around your table. Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Kathy, Wahoo, Corky — those people no longer made you nervous. They were family now. It was all the onslaught of new Vandals that cursed, shouted and drank across the room. 

A warm hand encased your knee, pressing down, firmly locking your foot to the ground. You smiled as Benny leaned into you, his lips softly touching your neck in a gentle kiss. His way of calming your nerves. And it worked every time. 

“Alright, I’m gonna break the bad news to ‘em,” Johnny announced as he stood from his chair. The bad news was that some new members of the Vandals had been running up the tab at the bar and not paying for it. An entire week had gone by without them paying for any of their drinks — and they drank a lot.

Brucie stood next to him, cranking his neck to the side with a pop. “This oughta go over well.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” Johnny muttered with a sigh. Despite running one of the most revered motorcycle clubs in the midwest, Johnny was surprisingly non confrontational at times. He knew what needed to be done, he just didn’t like having to do it. “Not everything has to be a fight. It’s just going to be a conversation.”

“Good luck!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs-up. 

“Thanks, kid,” Johnny answered with his usual reserved patience for you and the two left, weaving their way through the crowded room. Benny started to stand too, but you grabbed onto his arm, tugging firmly at his jacket sleeve.

“It’s not gonna be a fight, Benny. Please don’t make it a fight.” You pleaded quietly, giving him your best doe-eyed look that you knew could get you almost anything you wanted. 

“I ain’t gonna make it a fight,” Benny argued but reluctantly sat back down next to you. “I can be civil.”

History begged to differ, you wanted to say but instead lifted your cold bottle of pop to your lips in an excuse not to answer. You laced your fingers with his as you brought his arm back around your shoulder, anchoring him to you.

Minutes ticked by and you fell back into a conversation with Kathy and Gail while Benny’s attention remained focused on Johnny and the conversation across the crowded bar. Voices rose in shouting and suddenly Johnny was shoved back by one of the new Vandals members. Then fists started flying. 

“Shit,” Benny cursed and, quick as light, slid out from your booth and rushed across the bar to join the fight. You called after him hopelessly, your pleas falling on deaf ears. 

“You think these guys will ever think with their brains and not their dicks all the time?” Kathy asked sarcastically as she casually sipped at her beer.

The fight grew larger as more members of the club joined in, and you lost sight of Benny in the tumble. You bit your lip, eyes surveying the crowd anxiously. You hated to see him fight, having cried the first time you witnessed it. It was unfair that he put himself into danger like that, without a care in the world if he got seriously hurt. But that was a part of loving Benny; He was always ready to fight with the drop of a hat. 

“Oh no,” you gasped softly as you saw a man twice his size suddenly appear through the crowd, slamming Benny to the ground.

Standing quickly, you barely heard the warnings of Kathy and Gail for you to stay out of it over the pounding of your heart. You pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to get to Benny, to help him. Bodies knocked into you, sending your hip clashing hard against the pool table, but you continued on, stumbling as you went. 

Finally you caught sight of him again, this time on top of the other Vandal member, beating down on him mercilessly.

“Benny!” You called out for him, but your voice was lost in the ocean of noise. Your fingertips just barely grazed his shoulder before you were knocked back. 

Suddenly something connected with the side of your head, a sickening crashing sound, and you were knocked off your feet. White hot pain shot through your elbow as it was the first to hit the floor below you. You landed hard on your side, the wind knocked from your lungs prevented you from crying out. The side of your head erupted in hot pain from the impact and it took you a couple of seconds to even register that you were on the cold ground now.  

Your ears immediately rang as if you were standing right below a church bell during Sunday service, drowning out all other noise. But the rest of the bar seemed to freeze in shock when they saw you go down, all stunned to see their youngest member’s girl caught on the losing side of a fight. 

You blinked hard, vision filling with stars, but you were able to make out the broken glass littering the floor around you. It took you longer than necessary to understand that you had been hit on the side of your head with a beer bottle. Attempting to look up to see the person who hit you, a cry left your throat at the pain of moving your head

Then that’s when all hell broke loose for the second time in a ten minute span. Johnny appeared in your line of vision, throwing a nasty right hook against the blurry figure of the man who hit you. He went down and a crowd gathered around him, legs kicking and fists flying. 

You blinked hard again, feeling something warm running down into your right eye as Benny’s face suddenly materialized before you.

“B—Benny?” Your voice sounded so small and you hated the way you couldn’t tell if he was real or just an illusion of the person you wanted most when you were scared. 

“Oh my god.” His voice sounded strained and you wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was hurt, but your body felt oddly disconnected from your mind.

He moved closer to you, the glass shards crunching beneath his boots, and he slid one hand behind your back and the other under your knees. Then suddenly you were being lifted in the air, carried away from the chaos of the bar. Benny used his boot to kick open the back door and a rush of cool breeze greeted you first as he relocated you to Kathy’s pickup truck in the back parking lot. Pausing at the rear of the truck, he used the hand under your knees to lower the tailgate. He placed you into a sitting position on the bed of the truck, stepping between your legs, his face is right back in front of yours again. 

The afternoon sun hanging low in the west gave you enough light to inspect his face for any injuries. There’s a split forming on his bottom lip. You reached forward and touched the injury with a fingertip, trying to gauge the severity. He would need to put ice on it before the swelling started. Although you can’t find any other noticeable signs of injury, his face was so contorted in torment, in. . . something else you had never seen before. Not quite anger, you’ve seen that plenty of times (never directed at you).

You tried to catch his eye, but he was so focused on the spot above your brow where your hairline met your forehead. He retrieved a bandana from his jeans and moved forward. Instinctively, you leaned away, your own hand reaching up to touch the spot that drummed with pain. Warm, sticky substance covered that place and you pulled your hand back to discover deep crimson dripping from your fingers. 

“You’re bleedin’ real bad,” Benny said and only then did you realize that was your blood on your fingers. He tried again and this time you didn’t pull away as he gently pressed the bandana to your flesh. You gasped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut from the sting.

“I know, baby.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “But you’re bleedin’ real bad.”

You knew that, you wanted to say. You could see it on your fingers, that awful deep red glistening in the sunlight. Your fingers blurred slightly and you blinked a few times to try to clear your vision. But it wasn’t your vision, you realized, it was your hands shaking. Suddenly aware of the sensation, you noticed your whole body was trembling. 

Another voice sounded beside you.

“Oh my god. Is she okay?” It was Kathy, you knew without even looking up.

“I need some water.” Benny said. “Please.”

That's when you realized it was fear in his voice. You’d never heard Benny sound so desperate, so scared. You wanted to grab his hand and tell him that you were okay, that you just needed a moment for the ringing in your ears to stop and then you’d be alright. Really, it was him that you were more worried about than anything else. You looked back up at his face, eyes falling on his split lip once more. 

“I–I’m okay, Benny,” you whispered, reaching for the bandana.

His free hand locked around your wrist, pulling it away from your head, stopping you from removing the bandana. “Don’t touch it, honey.”

The pain was subsiding, you wanted to say, even if it wasn’t really. You just wanted to calm him down. He let your wrist slide through his grasp and you reached out to gently touch his lip. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he repeated incredulously, brows knitted together. “Bunny, you’re bleeding like you just took on an army and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Head injuries bleed a lot more . . . They’re heavy bleeders because of the blood flow to your brain.” You attempted to ease his worry with your fun fact. 

He looked unconvinced, pulling back the bandana to peek. “Yeah, where’d you hear that? One of your books?”

“Yeah,” you smiled sheepishly at him and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight. You were so. . . small. So fragile looking sitting here with his bandana pressing against your pretty little head, legs hanging off the tailgate. Benny had to remind himself to take a breath, to focus on controlling his shaking hands. Had to tell himself to be strong for you. You needed him now. He'd be there for you.

Kathy returned with a bottle of water and Benny moved to the side a little, still firmly pressing his hand against your head. “For her hands,” he said.

She uncapped the bottle and gently pulled your hands out over the edge as she poured a stream of the cool water to rinse the crimson from your skin. You glanced down and made a sound. “Aww, no. My shirt. . .”

Benny followed your gaze to the once baby pink shirt now stained with booze and fresh anger coursed through his veins, setting his head swirling with images of strangling the man who touched his girl. You were one of the few good thing - pure thing - left in his world and the fact that someone dared to touch you, to hurt you, set Benny's jaw so tightly that he thought his teeth might crack.  

With the creak from the backdoor opening, Johnny and Brucie came out, rounding the truck. 

“How’s she?” Johnny asked and Benny glanced at his friend. Whatever expression Benny must have shot him caused Johnny to grimace. He moved closer to the two, putting a comforting hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Lemme see.”

Reluctantly, Benny lowered the bandana and Johnny hummed.

“Alright, ain’t that bad,” Johnny assured calmly and nodded at you as he spoke. “Ain’t that bad. The head bleeds a lot, always looks worse than it is.”

“See? I told you.” You quipped, fingers finding the beltloops of his jeans and pulling him lightly. Benny sighed through his nose. 

“She’s gonna need stitches,” Brucie spoke from behind. 

“Can you take her to the hospital?” Benny asked Kathy who nodded instantly as she stepped forward and replaced his hands as he moved back.

“Woah woah, what do you think you’re doin’ in the meantime?” Johnny questioned, already knowing what Benny planned to do.

“I’m gonna go kill him,” Benny declared as if it were obvious.

“No, Benny–” you started but Benny had already pulled away from you, making his way back to the door. He already planted the seed in his mind. He wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you and still have the ability to walk above the ground. This guy needed to be six feet under already. It was Johnny’s hand who grabbed his upper arm, Johnny who stopped him in his tracks.

“No, Benny,” he said quietly, leaning into Benny’s space. “You ain’t goin’ back in there.”

“He–” Benny started, unable to get the image of you laying on the floor of the bar out of his head. He wanted to kill him. He wanted him to hurt. He didn’t care if he’d be arrested for it. He’d been arrested for a lot less before. 

“No,” Johnny’s voice cut him off. “You go take care of Bunny now. We’ll take care of this piece of shit. Hey, you hear me? We’ll take care of it.”

Benny held Johnny’s intense gaze as he considered his next move. He wanted to be the one to take care of it, but the severity in Johnny’s voice, the rigid way his shoulders fell up and down with his breath, the carefully selected words– Benny knew that this man who hurt you would never be a problem again. Johnny wouldn’t let him be because you were an integral part of the Vandals. And they protected their own. 

“Okay,” Benny relented, taking a step back, eyes flickering to your small form still sitting on the tailgate. When he looked back at Johnny, the glint of his brass knuckles caught his eye as he pulled them from his pocket, sliding it snuggly over his fingers.

“Go take Bunny to the hospital. We’ll meet you there when we’re finished.”

"Okay," Benny repeated and he believed him.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict  @elizabeth916  @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @dudii4love @ironmooncat  @beebeechaos  @astrogrande  @pearlparty  @themorriganisamonster  @sillylittlethrowaway  @ughdontbeboring  @penwieldingdreamer  @charmingballoon  @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans  @groovyangelkisses  @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit  @pomtherine  @tranquilty  @m00npjm  @twisteduniverse5  @justsomewritingblog  @nhlfs  @thepassionatereader  @rebecca-hvnstn  @dreamlandcreations  @buckysteveloki-me  @simsiddy  @zablife  @sansaorgana  @autumnleaves1991-blog  @charmingballoon  @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire

[wlwsoccerfics]

Teenage Boy Behavior(Laura FreigangxBrandReader)

Warning: mentions of s*xual tension & more.

National Team Camp was always fun. This one was not any different. You have just arrived together with your teammates from VfL Wolfsburg. Jule being one of them. She also happens to be your twin sister. You are fraternal twins though. You were excited to see your best friend Klara who plays for Bayern Munich and your girlfriend Laura who plays for Eintracht Frankfurt.

"Laura is so eager to greet you she almost stumbled over her own two feet!" Jule told you.

"well we haven't seen eachother in like two months. So can't blame her!" You replied and manage to catch Laura just in time because she jumped into your arms. "Angel face!" She happily called out, kissing you gently. Taking you by a bit of surprise. But you kiss back and things got a bit more heated with the kiss,so you are now the one that is stumbling, trying to keep her balance.

"No way these two are sharing a room! They won't be sleeping that's for sure!" Someone yelled out. It was Selina. "These two have the room next to me! Imagine how i feel?! That's my twin sister!" Jule replied. "Y/n! Stop making out with your Girl and get your ass over here! I want a hug!" Your best friend yelled. During all of the comments you didn't care about what was said and kept making out with Laura but when you heard Klara you broke the kiss. Looking at your best friend. Laura broke free from your arms and stood up, sighing softly. "Cock Block!" She mumbled out. You giggled and ran over to Klara. "Hi!" You happily yelled out and hug your best friend. " Hi, i missed you so much! Not as much as Laura cause i don't want to jump your Bones but still quite alot!" She answered and laughed softly. You playfully slap her shoulder. "Very funny, Klara!" You answered and roll your eyes in a joking manner.

You had an hour to get settled into your room with Laura but for very valid reasons the Team didn't trust the two of you not to get tangled in the Sheets together so Kathy & Giulia got stuck with basically Babysitting the two of you. Especially Laura cause the blonde was staring at you with a look that suggested your clothes wouldn't be on your Body anymore If the two of you would be alone. Which is exactly the reason the Team didn't trust you and they did regret having the two of you in the same room. "Really the two of you can go! I can behave myself! Laura told Giulia and Kathy. "Yeah sure! And pigs can fly!" Giulia said and shook her head in disbelief. "No one belives you Laura. You start drooling whenever someone mentions y/n's name. So leaving you two before a Training Session is not gonna happen!" Kathy added. You look around for your favorite pair of sneakers to wear for tomorrow, ignoring the talk going on in your room. realizing you forgot the pair of sneakers. good thing Jule has the same Sneakers and she would probably be fine with you wearing them tomorrow.

The four of You quickly got ready for practice and met up with the rest by the field. Warming Up first. Standing in a circle with Klara, Lea, Pia, Sara & Lena. All of you were doing some leg stretches. "Seriously y/n Laura is like a Teenage Boy when it comes to you!" Sara replied. Pia chuckled softly. "I mean yes it was alot but i have seen worse." She answered. The others giggled at that. "Oh Pia you haven't seen the half of it. Let me show you what they mean when we hit the Pool tonight!" You told her, grinning softly. you knew exactly what to do to get Laura all worked up. Not that you actually had to do alot for that.

After warming up you practiced some standards, especially corners. Then you did a little practice game.

After dinner you all went to the pool. You were still wearing a T-Shirt over your Bikini because you had promised to show Pia what the others meant when they said Laura was like a Teenage Boy sometimes. You laid in between Jule & Klara. Next to Klara was Pia & next to her was Vivi. Laura came down and walked towards the Pool & you notice her eyes on you, but pretend you didn't see her. 'casually' taking off your t-shirt making sure you are turned towards her. When she saw your breasts in that new Bikini top she stared at you, mouth wide open. Not paying attention to where she was going. Almost tripping over her own two feet. Everyone was giggling at her reaction. "Damn she is down bad!" Pia said. This was quite entertaining to watch. When she reached you she was a little out of breath. "Y-you look stunning Babe! I love that new Bikini top!" Your girlfriend told you. Taking your hand in hers. Eyes focused on your chest. "Babe my eyes are up here!" You tell her, using your intertwined hands to gently grab her face. The others were watching and giggling, whispering with one another. You move really close to her, whispering into her ear. "I know you would love to take that top off of me...so today is your lucky day! When we are back in our room you can!" You let her know. That was enough for her, she let out a small growl and swallowed hard, grabbing you and throwing you over her shoulder. "We are tired! It's nap time!" She announced before walking to the room you two shared with you on her shoulder.

"we better stay away from that room for the next hour!" Vivi stated. Jule shivered. "These two are Like rabbits!" Klara answered. "Okay please Stop! Y/n is my sister! Don't want to think about what These two are doing in there! Such Teenage Boys!" Jule replied.

The next hour was quite eventful. And it was only das one of national Camp. The others had to deal with the two of you for 20 more days. How fun!

[ballgagboy]

ahs: pleasant valley

evan peters as harper. do you understand the vision now

got hit with the life changing realization that 2001 maniacs is basically ahs roanoke.

[jtl-fics]

In honor of April Fools day I will talk a bit about an AU with my favorite fool - (Redacted) Smith that I will probably never write fully but have thought about a bunch of scenes for.

I call it 2 Fluent Freshmen.

Due to a clerical error at both the school and during the local government's push to digitize their documents Smith is noted down as being 2 years older than he actually is and (perhaps a clerical error or maybe no teacher can say if they've had him in class or not) Smith also has enough credits to graduate. Gran has passed away early and there's nothing for him in Washington other than more anxiety.

Wymack & Dan come to Smith when he is 16 and Smith takes the chance to escape from his family IMMEDIATELY. Sure the Foxes are the worst team and sure there's some drama going on with Kevin Day having joined them after his injury but a full ride scholarship is a full ride scholarship!

Smith is rooming with 2 upperclassmen and his only other fellow freshman - Neil Josten. He is not hiding the fact that he can speak Russian, he is hiding the fact that he is 16. Smith ends up pretty close to Seth and Allison due to sharing a dorm / position respectively and just doing his best not to get to close to crazy Andrew Minyard. He does get a bit close with Neil but it's not something he's trying to do.

He's trying to keep his head down and get through the year.

It's a little hard when he is sat on the couch with the Kathy Ferdinand show. It's a lot harder when Riko Moriyama shows up and doesn't realize he's there and just...sits in Smith's lap?? Smith remains as blank faced as ever and what the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT HE FUCKED UP?

Do you know how hard it is to intimidate someone when you're sitting in the lap of some dude? The answer is VERY. Kevin can't take him seriously at all, especially after Smith made a comment that Riko's ass was bony.

Riko goes after them the same but Smith doesn't really get that his anger is at Kevin. "Hey, I'm sorry I called your butt bony on national television. That was rude of me. You should try some squats though." and like what the fuck is Riko supposed to say in the face of some dude genuinely apologizing to him.

It buys enough time that no one is grabbed or slammed.

Seth and Allison drag him out to the bar that night and after a few minutes sitting with Allison Smith realizes that he actually does have to pee and oh god someone's trying to assault Seth! Smith calls upon the powers of Gracie Hart and Seth has a black eye and a concussion but he graduates.

Neil wants Smith to come with him to the Thanksgiving because Neil has latched on a bit. Smith ends up going and also ends up going upstairs to go to the bathroom because oh god he cannot handle Nicky's parents hearing him take an anxiety shit. He's making his way to the end of the hall and sees a penny on the ground so he bends over to grab it.

And Drake Spears is unbalanced from missing his swing and falls right out the open window to the ground below where he breaks his neck. Naturally, Andrew is watching this scene unfold from the stairs and just starts to laugh his ass off. Smith turns around after flipping the penny over (it was tails side up and therefore not lucky) unaware of what has happened.

Smith asks if Andrew wants to use the bathroom. Andrew insists that Smith goes on ahead. The Hemmicks keep asking if they saw anyone upstairs and Smith has no idea what they're talking about, Andrew does but plays dumb out of spite. A day later it's wild that Nicky's parents got arrested. Like they seemed so normal, how did they kill someone and dump him in the side garden??

The Winter Banquet happens and well...it's dark. It's dark and Neil has brown hair and brown eyes and Smith has brown hair and brown eyes. Riko is not the best at judging heights so he calls Smith to threaten him and tell him that he's joining the Ravens for a Winter Break training camp. Jean is doing the most anyone has ever done not to laugh right now.

Riko only realizes his mistake when he's finished threatening Smith with his father and Smith ruins it. Smith is elated to have somewhere to stay over winter break. He can't mention he has nowhere to go so he'd thought he'd spend the break homeless. Now here comes Riko Moriyama inviting him to a camp where room and board will be provided?

What a nice guy. To thank him Smith compliments the gains he's noticed on Riko's ass. "The squats are really helping you, or are you doing something else?" he asks.

What the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT THAT HE FUCKED UP? Tell Smith that he's been doing squats and leg lifts before asking that he hand the tickets back and go get Neil???

Fuck that.

He'll just turn Smith against the Foxes and-

Well Riko kept talking about Smith's dead dad and so Smith may have a slight misunderstanding about the full scope of this training camp. He may think that there is some sort of seance element to it at this point and he's kind of excited at the idea of talking to his dad. "I've never spoken to a dead man before, this will be fun." and it's delivered flatly with no expression.

Riko starts to wonder if maybe Smith is the Butcher's son? Did the Butcher have two sons? He's sweating all the sudden.

It does not help that Smith brings a Ouija board to camp or that his dad was a legit Butcher before he died so Riko's tentative questioning only sends him further into an anxious mess about if Nathan had twins and Riko, due to being kept away from the family business, might just not be aware of it?

Smith has a nice Christmas break.

The last scene I've got dinging around in the noggin is in Binghamton. Smith has been left behind at many a stadium at this point. There's a solid and fast rule.

Neil cannot get on the bus without Smith. They are buddies. This is the buddy system. So when the riot starts and Neil seems to be getting pulled away in the crowd?

Well Smith grabs his hand and pulls him towards the bus, "Buddy system."

The bus starts and they're on their way shortly after. Neil's an anxious wreck but that next morning he wakes up to the news that the Butcher of Baltimore died in an FBI raid the night before as well as his men.

Smith watches the news with Neil, "Wow, that's scary." as he sips some orange juice.

[rikomoriyama01]

🗣️ (also sorry this got long, turns out i have thoughts) so like riko is one of the weirdest fandom cases i've ever seen. i've been in fandoms where characters who commit actual war crimes and genocide are badass babes or uwu soft bois, and even spoiled mafia brats who commit terrible crimes against the heroes for daddy's attention that get love and redemption. it's so weird to see just how isolated from all that riko is to me.

i do think it's partly how aftg is written, and that's also partly because niel's pov is not at all forgiving of riko, while is entirely forgiving of people like andrew. but i also think it's because of how riko himself is written. he's one of these characters that's better on paper than he is in the book to me. because he's never presented as smart enough to fall into the magnificent bastard trope where everyone applauds how devious his plans are, but he's not outright hammy enough to just be a fun read, he doesn't even get the same stupidly dramatic flare as andrew. and while we're told he's powerful and doing dangerous stuff, he's presented on page, more often than not, as a petulant child that neil is just done with or a guy who likes to torture people who neil is also done with. neil is never actually scared of riko, or even particularly threatened by him, and i think that hurts him and makes his position in the narrative weaker. especially when nora is trying to play him as a villain and a threat in a mafia story rather than a good old fashioned rival in a sports drama. for example, his first impression on the kathy show should live up to the hype of this imposing charismatic villain who broke kevin's hand, but instead loses him temper, forgets all of his media training and lets a nobody like neil goad him into losing control of the interview, and then his payback, things like shoving neil around and seth's death, are basically brushed off because neil doesn't really care that much. it's not given the weight to be a seriously omg this guys a threat first impression. and this isn't uncommon, lots of media hamstrings their villains at the start by making sure we know the main character is too sassy for them and can humiliate them, without thinking about how weak that can make the villain seem. it feels sometimes like nora wanted riko to be this chess master villain or tragic child who's lashing out at the world, without committing to it fully to either, or was just not an experienced enough writer to have known how to write either of those things in the pov of someone who hates riko's guts, which is understandable, writing is hard and that sort of nuance takes practice, especially if you just go by the books and not the extra content, and i do wonder how differently nora would have portrayed riko if she rewrote the main trilogy now with presumably a lot more practice under her belt. in the end riko ends up in this weird grey area to me where i understand why he's not popular, given he has none of the usual obvious traits that fans like to latch onto when redeeming a villainous character, and even the ones that are there are glossed over pretty quickly because of neil's pov, and a lot of his more interesting pieces are on paper not actively presented in the book, and not everyone reads super deep, but i also don't understand the amount of hate. i have literally never seen a character in any other fandom i've been in have this much fandom wide hatred.

See I have nothing to add here because you single handedly dropped the best analysis of Riko's character in the series I had pleasure to read so far and summed up all my feelings about why and what of the fandom. If the goal was to write a character that is impactful yet easy to hate then that goal was achieved but for me it real takes away form the magnitude of feelings Riko could evoke in reader and questions he could provoke in narrative if he was given bit different presentation that woudl still align with the lore we already have.

[hausofmamadas]

JOHNNY DAVIS | Cheers to a (real) wild one

The Bikeriders (2023)

∴

At the request of my beloved df (dear friend) @narcolini, who wrote this fucking FIIIIREEEEEEEE disgusting, amazing, beautiful, ridiculous, obscenely and downright upsettingly well-written Johnny Davis x Reader fic -> called white room, and also brought my attention to the s e v e r e lack of Johnny gifs out on the interwebs, I am hereby dumping some of my fav Johnny moments from The Bikeriders aka just S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders for grownups nvm that they’re contemporary stories shshhhhh shhh it still works. So that we may all join hands together in a kumbayah-my-lordt prayer circle to levitate to the ceiling chanting spells appreciate and enjoy and gaze creepily lovingly at his beautiful, grizzled bisexually lovestruck sweet bb angel face that launched a thousand choppers eat your heart out Helen you got nothin on our golden boy and so that my df (dear friend) might regale us with additional installments of possibly the most in-character fanfic I’ve read in my life bc this man is in their bones, yall, dejame do TELLLL you like seriously go check it out, pls and thnku.

And so, without further ado I present to you the tumblr equivalent of my 7th grade diorama honoring golden boy, Johnny Davis:

Yeah, so this👇here is just him being fucking perfect and adorable, laughing at his malewife Benny’s red-light/stop-sign-running shenanigans, pretending like he’s not half as in love with him as he clearly is, him being so perfect it stuck in my memory, like gum to a subway seat and I knew, before I even got the request, before I even started screenrecording, that I was forsure, 1000000% gonna gif these

This👇here is him being fucking perfect, gazing sexily from across the bar, pretending he ain’t the big man in charge, going over to assure a reasonably sketched out Kathy of her unequivocal safety in his bar, all rolling up his sleeves, casually slow-walking over, like he doesn’t own the damn place even tho he abs does, like idc if it’s not canon (tbh bc I only saw the movie twice) but no one will convince that man’s name is not on the deed to that bar bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

Oh this👇one right here is just him being a perfect fucking commiserate professional club leader, offering to fight some dude who was challenging Her Majesty’s crown bc Her Majesty won’t let said dude start a Milwaukee chapter get real Milwaukee, you don’t even go here even tho after the fight, Her Majesty Johnny’s just gonna fuckin let the dude start it anyway, he wants to test a homie’s dedication, bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

These ones👇here are just him being fucking dreamy and perfect, all enjoying a Sunday afternoon ride into the sunset with his malewife Benny the fam, hair blowing in the breeze, ain’t got a care in the world bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect, doing his best Brando-mugging at the camera, cigarette expertly hanging out his mouth by a thread, eyebrows up nearly to his hairline, all squinting like he about to fail a vision test at the DMV n giving them no choice but to take his driver’s license away, except jokes on them bc nothing and I mean n o t h i n g can keep him away from these mean streets or from his girlfriend that’s he knows is way too cool for him, Benny bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect and positively heartbroken getting the news that his malewife has been attacked by some clowns in a bar from my malewife, a one Ponyboy-coded, Mr. Cal from California aka Boyd Holbrook in greaser drag and I normally am so not for blondies but by god am I here for that and plotting his inevitable revenge on those no-good mfs who did his girl so dirty, nearly taking away her ability to ride bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect exacting said vengeance on behalf of his malewife, Benny aka The Girl Everyone Wants To Take To The Prom by finding the dudes who beat him up and then setting the bar on fire for good measure bc gottdammmititfkdjd nobody messes with MAH WOMAN bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is. It’s also him hilarious with the comedic timing like look at how funny his face is just telling Brucie to burn it down SKSKSK

And this here👇is him being fucking perfect, watching the world burn enjoying the fruits of his labor, a Labor Of Love in fact, bc that’s the kinda fuckin guy Johnny is

And what’s more gold than that, right guys?? Never change. Stay gold, Johnny. Stay gold.

═

taglist: @drabbles-mc, @when-did-this-become-difficult, @complete-nonsequitur, @ashlingiswriting since yall read the fic

[gatheringbones]

[“Police seem to have three reasons for arresting victims of gender-based violence: for the victims’ own good; to compel participation in prosecution; and because they see these victims as perpetrators. In the context of intimate partner violence, police sometimes justify making arrests by claiming that arrest will be helpful, forcing victims to face the seriousness of the violence and encouraging them to seek services. Similarly, law enforcement frequently cites rescue when arresting victims of trafficking. As Ohio attorney general Dave Yost explained, “Arresting the people who are the victims of human trafficking sounds harsh, but the complicated reality is that this often is the best way that law enforcement can help.” Deputy police chief Marc Garth-Green told the Seattle City Council that victims of trafficking might need to be arrested “to disrupt the cycle of violence and abuse. . . . For people trafficked in prostitution, jail can be a safer place than out on the street.”

Law enforcement officers use arrest— sometimes repeatedly—to “build trust” with trafficking victims. As one law enforcement officer explained, “You’ve got to take that girl away from that pimp for a long enough time that she trusts you, and that’s not going to happen in 24 hours or 36 hours.” Police believe that arrest prompts victims of commercial sexual exploitation to admit to their victimization, enabling them to access the services and supports they need to escape their traffickers. In some “prostitution diversion” programs, which are specifically designed to prevent people from being prosecuted for sex work–related offenses, police are not permitted to offer trafficking victims and others engaged in sex work services without first making an arrest. In other programs the existence of the program creates an incentive to arrest; police use arrests to bring people to central locations that offer both on-site booking and links to services. Law enforcement’s belief that such programs will “save” victims of trafficking from the streets is directly linked to increased policing to fill those programs.

Rescue may also be a function of white supremacy. As social science professor Kamala Kempdaoo has argued, white supremacy can be manifested in a desire to help racially marginalized people, which maintains the position and power of whiteness within racial hierarchies. Some in law enforcement recognize that arresting trafficking victims is a counterintuitive way to provide assistance. As sergeant Kathy Lacey of the Anchorage Police Department has explained, law enforcement’s intervention options are limited: “We don’t want to punish them. We want to remove them from that situation, and the tools that we have to remove them from that situation are to arrest them and to remove them from that trafficker.” Arrest is often described as a minor inconvenience in the service of a larger goal and harmless so long as the person is not convicted and left with a criminal record. What that perspective ignores, however, is the harm caused by arrest. Whatever good intentions law enforcement might have don’t keep people who are arrested from pushing back against the coercion implicit in the requirement that they comply with services or face incarceration. This vision of arrest as helpful, as rescue, is particularly ironic given how often victims of gender-based violence report abuse by law enforcement officers.”]

leigh goodmark, from imperfect victims: criminalized survivors and the promises of abolition feminism, 2023

[cer-rata]

Fic WIP "Boys Will Be Bugs"

When Jon first met Damian, he didn’t have a lot of friends. His early life was pretty unstable actually, and so were his powers, so there weren’t tons of opportunities to mingle. He'd never willingly admit it, but on a level his friendly personality was born out of loneliness as much as it was his natural state.

Anyway, back then Jon didn't know a ton of people, and It was easy for him to call someone a best friend when there were only three options--especially since one of them helped a crazy British man harass his family. And torture him. Kon had finally gotten him to admit to himself that Manchester Black's attempts to recruit him counted as torture, and he wasn't sure he appreciated knowing that, actually.

He was over it though, he and Kathy were still close, even if they saw each other less nowadays. But…it did give Damian a bit of a leg up in that race. As for Maya, well, she was like an older sister almost, still a friend, but it was a little different. So in some ways it kind of defaulted to Damian, especially with how much time they spent together in the years since.

The really interesting thing, Jon thought, was how Damian managed to keep that spot when he started adding new friends to his orbit. Jon had some really good friends too, friends he’d trust with his life, friends who knew things about him that he’d never tell his parents, friends who he knew liked him separate from the Superboy thing.

But still, Damian was the one Jon thought about when something went wrong, or when he figured out a new way to use his powers and wanted to tell someone. He thought about Damian a lot, really.

Damian had added some new friends to his orbit too, and recently a boyfriend even. Which was so…cool. Jon was happy for him, Damian deserved to have something nice like that, and it was great to see him opening up to new possibilities and stuff. He even genuinely liked the guy, and they’d already gotten past the “almost killing each other because of a misunderstanding/supernatural problem” stage, AND saved each other's lives. Conrad was Jon’s friend too, and that was neat. 

He wasn’t jealous anymore. Not at all. That wouldn’t make sense. Damian was already his best friend, what else could he even want? The Sapphire crystal thing showed you what you loved, and obviously he'd love his best friend, that wasn't weird, and the moment where he wondered about there being more to that was just him being stupid and dramatic and immature.

So he floated over to where Damian was drawing at his desk, and rested his chin on his shoulder, hovering just enough to not put too much of his weight on it. Damian didn’t bother shaking him off, or even complaining, which was crazy considering how they’d started off. Over their three years of friendship, Damian had been getting warmer and more tolerant of affection, and was almost normal about it. Jon wanted to think that his consistent positivity had finally worn Damian down…but…he acknowledged that the recent shift probably had to do with Conrad and how he’d been dragging Damian out of his shell. It seemed so easy when he did it, and Jon couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t managed it himself...but it was good that it happened! He was happy about it!

Besides, there were probably more…”incentives” for him to listen to Conrad. Jon and Conrad were both kind of dorky, but Conrad had cool hair, and was sort of...pretty in a way Jon didn't see himself as being. His charisma was slightly different too, as were the things he was confident about. He might have been nervous about being a superhero, but he was a shameless, earnest flirt, and maybe Damian just appreciated the audacity. Maybe Jon was too laid-back.

Conrad was also the same age as Damian, and being a little younger than his buddy had never felt like a problem before, but now Jon was wondering if maybe Damian didn't take him as seriously as he thought he--

Damian sighed quietly. “Jon.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re grinding your teeth in my ear.”

“Oh! Sorry. You…you can hear that?”

“Everything about you is loud.”

Jon rolled his eyes and bumped the side of Damian’s head with his own. He finally actually processed what Damian had been sketching: It looked like a bunch of weapon designs. Swords and hammers and axes and stuff. “Whatcha working on?”

“You know how Conrad is a dumbass?”

“I refuse to be on record agreeing with that.”

“He’s terrible at thinking up new constructs quickly, but has a sharp memory, so I was thinking I’d give him some detailed designs for basic weapons when he gets home.”

Jon swallowed down a feeling that didn’t make sense. “Ah, that’s sweet of you.”

“It’s practical. Sentiment has nothing to do with it.”

“You’re allowed to like, admit that you like doing things for your boyfriend.”

Damian sucked his teeth. “If it’s obvious, why would I need to say it?”

Jon considered that for a minute. “I guess that’s fair. I like that hammer over there, third from the top.”

Jon heard Damian bite his cheek. “Oh, I don’t know if I’ll show him that one--”

“It’s two hands with their fingers all laced up, right? That’s cool, especially given Conrad’s whole deal.”

Two heartbeats that were slightly faster than normal were the only indications Jon got that Damian was a little embarrassed. “Well…yes, that was the idea.”

“You wanna hold his hand, huh?”

“Jon, get off of me.”

Jon wrapped his arms around Damian’s shoulders. “You miiiiiiss hiiiiim.”

“I will stab you in the eye with this pencil.”

“It’s normal to miss people you’re dating.”

“It hasn’t even been three weeks, I’m not so needy.”

“Oh yeah? I mean, would you even let me touch you this much if he was around? I’m basically just keeping a seat warm.” Jon winced as soon as he finished letting that disaster of a sentence dribble out of his mouth. He could feel his friend’s muscles tense.

Damian got up, gently pushing Jon off on him in the process. He turned to affix his sharp gaze on him, seeming confused and somewhat concerned.

Jon would have preferred him looking annoyed, actually.

“Jonathan…are you alright?”

Jon did his best to play it off. “Yeah, of course. I was just teasing you.”

Damian didn’t look convinced. “Well…if you’re sure--”

Jon flashed a smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Totally. I’m more worried about you though.”

“You’re trying to redirect me.”

“If you don’t let me, I’m going to hug you again.”

Damian sighed. “You people are so violent.”

Jon raised his eyebrows, and Damian smirked. “‘You people?’ What do you mean ‘you people?’”

“You know, the clingy ones that dress in blue and wear a symbol that is clearly an ‘S’ but they insist isn’t one, despite the fact that the House of Zod’s emblem is clearly a ‘Z’ so--”

“That’s a coincidence! If that’s how it worked, then our crest would look like an ‘E,’ we’re not the house of ‘Sel.’”

Damian looked defiantly up into Jon’s eyes. “I think an ‘E’ would look better. ”

Jon blew a freezing blast of air over him, and he gasped out a laugh as he tried to avoid it. “Hey! Stop that!”

Jon spent a moment chasing him around the room, before he ran out of breath. After, Damian was hugging himself and shivering, but still smiling. Jon crossed his arms. “That’s what you get, 'elf off the shelf'.”

“You’re such an asshole!”

“Me?!”

“I’m freezing! What if I die, hmm? What if I go into shock, and just die in front of you, and suddenly you’ve murdered ‘Damian Carlisle Wayne,’ and have to go to--hey!” Jon interrupted him with a bear hug that he was too sluggish from the cold to dodge in time.

Jon held him tight. “Yeah, yeah I’ll warm you up, crybaby.” He paused. “…’Carlisle?’”

Damian clearly sounded embarrassed this time. “Oh. Um. That’s…Conrad has this stupid running joke where he says my full name but adds a random middle name every time.”

Jon squeezed his eyes shut. “Ah, that’s pretty good. I think you’d be a Jerry.”

“You’re in biting distance.”

“So are you.”

“...Touché.” 

Jon focused really hard and vented just a little of his solar reserves. A teeny tiny bit, just to raise his temperature and warm Damian up faster. He was actually pretty proud at how much control he had over that now, the idea that he’d blow up by accident seemed ridiculous. Dumb stupid evil alternate timeline Tim. “That better?”

Damian growled under his breath. “...Yes.”

Jon giggled. “You sure you don’t wanna come over for dinner tonight? Kara and Dad are both back from their space things.”

Damian shook his head. “No, Duke and Cassandra want me to come with them to take Black Mask down, I need to be ready to go.”

Jon squeezed him a little tighter. “Oh. Well…it’s the summer, I can stay out a little later, especially cause I’m almost fourteen, so if you want I could maybe help?”

Damian shook his head. “I appreciate it, but that’s alright. It’s Duke, Cassandra and myself, frankly It’s already overkill.”

Jon bit his lip. “Ah, okay, well--”

“Besides, the way you start giggling sometimes when people shoot you kind of kills our mystique.” 

Jon scoffed. “It’s not my fault they don’t use big enough caliber bullets to do anything but tickle me. A 50. cal could almost kind of theoretically hurt.”

Damian snorted. “Uh-huh. Sorry chuckles, we're finally free of one clown, that doesn't mean we need anoth--ow! Stop! I thought we were both joking about the biting--Jon!”

[hooked-on-elvis]

"It's Still Here" (1973)

Recorded on May 19, 1971 at RCA’s Studio B, Nashville, TN. Released on July 16, 1973. Album: Elvis (Fool)

MUSICIANS Piano: Elvis Presley, Bass: Norbert Putnam. * The complete recording of “It’s Still Here” runs 4:40, including a breakdown in the middle of the take; it was edited down to 2:05 for the initial master.

--

RECORDING SESSION Studio Session for RCA May 15–21, 1971: RCA’s Studio B, Nashville On the night of May 15 RCA’s Studio B had been decorated for an early Christmas. A tree with beautifully wrapped empty boxes stood in the center of the room, but Elvis brought real gifts for the musicians and his own associates — gold bracelets engraved “Elvis '71.” All the players from the June 1970 sessions were back, and again there were no backup singers present. With no personnel changes and as few distractions as possible, Felton expected to be able to get all of Elvis’s recording done in short order and save all the sweetening for later. BACKSTORY: The studio was decorated for Christmas in May most likely to create the right mood for the musicians - specially to inspire Elvis himself, since everybody knew how much of a Christmas enthusiast he was. During that session they would cut songs that would be release in the same year, 1971, on the then upcoming album "Elvis Sings The Wonderful World Of Christmas", as well as begin to record songs for the following albums - a contemporary music album and a gospel album. The Christmas decoration might have helped but fact is Elvis was in a great mood during those May recording sessions, cheerfully joking with everybody in the studio, even showing off his karate skills, while keeping himself seriously engaged in doing his best work, specially with the religious songs. His light mood is quite intriguing since what happened to him a little time prior to that recording session. During a recording session on March 15-16th 1971, Elvis felt a striking pain on his eye and left to see a doctor, ending up being diagnosed with glaucoma.

Excerpt from book "Elvis What Happened" by Red West, Dave Hebler and Sonny West as told to Steve Dunleavy (1977).

Elvis leaving an eye doctor's office in Beverly Hills sometime in late 1971.

That year, 1971, was the beginning for the dark sunglasses era. Elvis took it all lightly, joking around with people about his serious health condition. One of those people was Kathy Westmoreland, to whom Elvis said, after showing her his collection of sun glasses:

"If I have to wear the damn things," Elvis smiled, making fun of himself, "I'm gonna have one in every color." Excerpt from "Elvis and Kathy" by Kathy Westmoreland (1987).

After the brief hospitalization and the emergency eye treatment, Elvis got right back into the recording studio in Nashville considerably fast.

— A LITTLE BIT OF THE RECORDING SESSION ON MAY 19, 1971 WHEN "IT’S STILL HERE" WAS RECORDED: During the day Elvis slept, but for most of the members of the band it was business as usual—sessions all morning and afternoon. When they came back to work nights with Elvis, Felton had an unwritten rule prohibiting anyone from yawning in the studio—for fear that it might “bring down” his star—and he insisted that the musicians take their breaks in the parking lot. And even Elvis made a trip to their “outdoor lounge” when he became bogged down in “Seeing Is Believing,” a new tune Red West had just frantically completed. Otherwise, though, he kept focused throughout the evening, actively directing the band, patiently discussing the backing parts with the female singers. Jerry Reed’s “A Thing Called Love” was completed with an elaborate vocal arrangement that featured bass singer Armond Morales in a unison part with Elvis throughout the song. References to the previous evening’s gunplay were flying, and after a while Elvis noticed how upset the Imperials became whenever he struck a karate pose. It was another night of good-humored ad-libbing. “He left the splendor of RCA—of Victor,” he sang self-referentially after one verse of “Listen To The Bells”; “went back to Sun Records. …” The next take of “A Thing Called Love” collapsed, and Felton as always deflected blame from Elvis onto the newcomer, Joe Moscheo. But Elvis, ever gracious when he was in good spirits, just changed the opening line of the song from “Six foot six, he stood on the ground” to “Three foot four …” and dedicated the song to Charlie Hodge. After the meal break the atmosphere changed. Determined to capture the mood he achieved while performing at home, Elvis sat down at the piano for an impassioned yet unassuming solo set. Two of the three songs he chose had been favorites as far back as his days in Germany: “I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen” and Ivory Joe Hunter’s “I Will Be True,” both of which he’d recorded on his home equipment in Bad Nauheim. This old material was hardly what Felton or RCA were looking for in an Elvis session, but Al Pachucki was ready with the tapes rolling just the same. The most moving of the three was another Ivory Joe Hunter song, “It’s Still Here,” but later Felton excitedly reported to the Colonel that with overdubs they all would make “great tunes,” keen to convince both Elvis and his manager of their commercial potential.

Excerpt: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

AFTERMATH Five albums were out a while before the "Elvis (Fool)" album could be released in 1973. Following the 1971 Christmas album was the contemporary music album, "Elvis Now", and then the gospel album "He Touched Me" preceding two live record releases, the "Elvis: As Recorded At Madison Square Garden" (1972) and the "Aloha From Hawaii Via Satellite" (1973) albums, and just then the "Elvis (Fool)" album was made by putting together songs recorded during the May 1971 recording session as well as songs taped during recording sessions in February-March 1972.

"IT'S STILL HERE" — LYRICS Songwriter: Ivory Joe Hunter The day you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart You had the nerve to tell me I would soon forget Now you've been gone away one year And I have not forgotten dear The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-oh It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through Now you've been gone away one year And I have not forgotten dear The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-oh It's here, it's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-ow It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here Oh yeah

UNEDITED MASTER (4:45)

ORIGINAL RECORDING Ivory Joe Hunter (1968)

[acaplaya-musings]

A random assortment of Geoff Castellucci pictures - Part 3

Y'all seemed to enjoy part 1 and part 2, so here, have a part 3! Featuring pics of Geoff from videos where I haven't already saved any screencaps from (not counting Voiceplay Visuals posts), but where he still looks really good anyway. And so because this one involves me going back and rewatching certain videos for the purpose of screenshot grabs (always nice to have another excuse! <3), these pictures are going chronologically by video, oldest to newest, rather than alphabetical by title. And again, featuring little bits of thoughts/commentary from yours truly. This one ended up being longer than part 2 as well, so enjoy!

(Everything below the cut as like the previous posts!)

Starting off strong my fam!!

I said as much in my VoicePlay Visuals post I think but this is honestly one of Geoff's best "shorter (or at least shorter-ish) hair" looks imo. Like look at those waves and curls! To! Die! For!

Also the open shirt with the popped collar is such a look and I kinda wanna see Geoff with a popped collar more often tbh

Also on the Panic Medlry Part 2 video someone commented "Is it just me or is Geoff extra hot in these last two vids". VoicePlay replied with "It's not just you. There was no air conditioning. ;)" XD

I forgot how hard it is to get decent pics of Geoff from this video, rip. I couldn't not include anything from it though! I mean come on!

Sir excuse me who gave you the right (and can they give you the right more often please)

I don't even know what it is in particular about this look that's so good but dear god everything just works and like, y'know, as I very frequently say: He's! So! Pretty!!!

Actually I do know one key component: his smile!!! <3

Well hello there good sir! 👀

Yet another video where Geoff smiles a lot and it's so lovely and nice but goddang is it hard to get a clear pic of him!

Yes a good portion of these pics is honestly just me showing some of my favourite Geoff smiles from different videos, and I apologise for nothing <3

Look, I love Geoff as a Disney villain, of course I do, he slays it absolutely every single time, but goddamn, I would love for more Disney Prince Geoff, in vibes/aesthetic if not any actual Disney song.

Also shoutout to one bit during Eli's When I'm Older section, where Geoff is looking off to the side and smiling <3 (smiling at Kathy? Maybe?)

(Oh and actually, between Sh-Boom and this video, I'm realising I kinda sorta wanna make a picture collection post for Layne as well - he does have some good looks sometimes! Nothing Else Matters, Hellfire, Warriors, y'know?)

Jumping ahead 1.5 years now!

Butter is such a fun video - everyone looked like they had such a great time!

If I Were A Rich Man/Girl MY ABSOLUTE BELOVED

The fluff in the hair, the visible bit of white/grey, the shirt, the smile!!! This video has me so weak y'all <3

Honestly Geoff looks phenomenal in almost every single medley video in particular and I love it (almost every medley - Greatest Showman Medley isn't in this photoset for the same reason that Kidnap The Sandy Claws and Hide And Seek aren't, lol)

(Also appreciation for the long-sleeve shirt behind rolled up to the elbows 👀)

Geoff from like 2022 onwards was "I'm going to find a hundred different black outfits to wear in videos and I'm going to look good every time" /j

Couldn't help but include a pic from We Don't Talk About Bruno in this - he's so silly (affectionate) <3

Not including any pics of Disney Princess Geoff(tm) only because it makes me laugh too much XD (seriously even as soon as Ashley starts singing Isabela's part I already start giggling, and it does in fact get me every time, but you can find a couple of pics of it in my VoicePlay Visuals post for this video HERE

I haven't rewatched this video in a while, so I wasn't exactly sure what kinda quality of screencaps I was gonna be able to grab from it, but well... it delivered!!!

I said this in a comment on the video as well but whoever had the idea to have that little bit of breeze/wind blowing Geoff's (and Adriana's) hair back, you're a genius and I love you

Also DJ_410 has occasionally referred to Geoff having "puppy dog eyes" or something along those lines, and man, he ain't wrong!

Someone said in the comments of this video that "Geoff is slowly turning into a silver fox" and honestly so true bestie <3 (ages! like! fine! wine!)

Also love how you can see the full necklace in this one (fun fact: Geoff's wearing a white singlet underneath, but he actually deliberately ripped it open a little bit at the neckline, which is how we end up with this 👀)

Plus this is the closest we've come to Geoff wearing a upturned/popped collar since the Panic Medley!

I Love Drunken Sailor A Normal Amount

Okay so obviously I already had one image from this video already saved to my folder - my profile pic - but nothing otherwise, and man is this video a goldmine. The arms! The hair! The eyeliner!!!

We really were absolutely spoiled when it came to Sleeveless Geoff in 2023 quite honestly

And what better way to end this post than with the god-tier all around stunningness that is Geoff in Hellfire?

I mean come on he literally looks like a goddamn painting!

So that's all for now! I might at some point do a part 4 or something dedicated to Minis and/or Shorts, but I do have a couple of other post ideas in mind for later down the line, so we shall see!

[chainofclovers]

hacks season 3 thoughts??? personally i feel like im going insane

So much has happened since you sent this ask on May 17! I'm in LOVE with this season. It's so fucking good. I'm terrified of what's going to happen in the finale (so many possible directions it could go considering the regrettable one-night-stand with Bob, all the various health stuff and time-running-out stuff that Deborah or the people around her have engaged with both jokingly and seriously, the impending arrival of the grandchild, Ava's job(s), the creative tension/collaboration between Ava and Deborah that's sexier than any romantic relationship portrayed on the show) and I can't wait.

Deborah's defense of bisexuality followed by her hearing her comedy idols roast her through the bathroom vent followed by her stealing the toilet paper followed by the "you got in my head" kitchen fight is the best TV I've seen in a while!

Also the Tom Cruise cake.

Also the raw yet unexpectedly nuanced toxic snowball fight/conversation with Kathy.

Also "What! A! Cunt!"

My brain is positively aflutter with all these intense characters and their old patterns and habits and their growth and the super intricate ecosystem that is Deborah Vance the ~~~corporation and Deborah Vance the household and Deborah Vance the person who just got Late Night.

alw;fejlwekdfjas;dlkfjfladskfjsalfkaj

Anyway...how are you doing? :)

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic 1.2

Masterlist

a/n: I'm so so soooo sorry I'm dragging out the date sequence... but I also love a good build up and I hope I did them justice! And I promise that the actual date is next!

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: the seagull

word count: 4,943

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

"Tom, how many hours did you sleep last night? Quickly," Tom glanced up at the call of his name, finding Marcelline standing over him with her phone.

"Are you filming me?" he asked plainly.

"Yeah! We're gonna look back on this when we're in fourth year!" she replied ecstatically, "How many hours did you sleep last night? C'mon!"

Tom was taken aback at first, his mind blanking out before he stuttered a quick, "Erm -- six?"

Marcelline's face fell into shocked dismay, dropping her camera lens and turning around, "What the f-- how are all the guys sleeping better than us!?" she shouted to another classmate, Kathy.

"Because men don't fret like women do," she replied.

"Hey! Brian got three hours!" another student pointed out.

While Tom managed about six hours of sleep, it wasn't exactly the kind of rest that left him feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world. Instead, it was a restless, fragmented slumber filled with half-formed dreams about missed cues and forgotten lines. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, his mind running a relentless marathon of overthinking. Every detail of the day ahead looped through his brain: rehearsals, costume fittings, the potential pitfalls of his performance.

An hour on the phone with his mom before bed had been both a blessing and a curse. She was her usual buoyant self, overflowing with encouragement and excitement, "You're going to be brilliant! I just know it!" she'd said, her voice brimming with pride. Tom could almost see her smiling on the other end of the line, her enthusiasm a bright beacon in his otherwise cloudy thoughts. She'd wished him all the best for his show and reminded him how much she was looking forward to having him back home in England. One more week and he'd be on a plane again...

As he got ready that morning, he tried to shake off the lingering drowsiness. The mirror reflected a version of himself that looked more frazzled than he'd like to admit. Dark circles underscored his eyes, a testament to his lack of rest, but there was a spark there too—a determination to push through the fatigue and give the performance of his life.

He packed his bag with a meticulousness that bordered on obsessive, double-checking that he had everything he needed for the day. Script, check. Costume, check. Snacks to last the day, check. With each item he ticked off his mental list, he felt a tiny surge of control in the midst of the chaos.

Sunny's performance review was the following Monday, so he had the luxury of staying home that morning. He lounged on the couch, feet up, looking more relaxed than Tom had ever felt in his life. That being said, he wish Tom luck and told him he'd catch him at the show. Just as Tom was about to leave, Sunny stopped him and tossed him a small bottle of cologne, "Trust me, you'll want this for your date,"

Tom caught it, barely. "Thanks, I think?" he read the Jo Malone label with intrigue, "Basil & Neroli..."

"It'll make a better impression than just deodorant," Sunny assured him.

Tom stuffed the cologne in his bag, feeling a bit overwhelmed by Sunny's thoughtfulness, but grateful nevertheless, "Seriously, thanks mate,"

"Go knock 'em dead," Sunny said, waving him off, "And remember, the date's about having fun. Don't overthink it!"

With a final nod, Tom stepped into the hallway and nearly collided with Noelle. She emerged from her door at the exact same moment, wearing a navy mini dress sprinkled with delicate white flowers. A light white cardigan draped over her shoulders, her hair cascading in long, soft waves that framed her face. The white trim on her black backpack coordinated nicely with her converse sneakers, and there were little white berettes clipped at the sides of her hair that added a lovely touch of innocence and charm.

Tom felt his breath catch. This was a far cry from her usual ballet attire which was clean, sleek and perfectly packaged. She looked relaxed, fresh, and irresistibly sweet. Every time Tom thought Noelle couldn't be any cuter, she somehow managed to surpass his expectations.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice betraying his admiration.

"Hi," she replied, a shy smile curving her lips.

He couldn't help but stare, feeling like a giddy schoolboy, "You look... wonderful,"

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself,"

"Thank you,"

They started walking to the stairwell, slower than usual to a fault, "So... are you excited?" she asked.

"For what?" a teasing smile tugged at his lips.

She shrugged shyly, "For tonight,"

"What part of tonight?" he asked, his nerves easing a bit, "There's a lot happening tonight!" he laughed as she rolled her eyes.

Noelle shook her head with a candid smile, "And I'm personally excited for all of it," she said.

"Me too," now, if he could just make it through the next twelve hours with peace and calm...

They hit the lobby and immediately heard the sound of sticking and cutting, they were both curious and dismayed to find Doris putting up 'DO NOT ENTER' tape over the elevator doors. She was mumbling under her breath, only pausing when she turned and found Tom and Noelle watching her.

"Elevator's out of commission," she simply said, "Don't ask,"

With an uncertain glower Noelle looked to Tom, who simply shrugged back as they started for the doors and wished Doris a good day. The older woman was so frustrated and annoyed with her renovations plans, she was none the wiser to the palpable energy between the pair.

The ride to school was nothing remarkable—New Yorkers squeezed together like sardines, the air thick and unmoving. Noelle and Tom managed to snag the last two seats at the back of the bus, a comfortable silence settling between them.

Tom turned to her, curiosity piqued. "So, when did Daniel give you the ticket?" he asked.

Noelle shook her head, her expression softening into a smile, "He didn't."

Tom blinked, confused, "Then how did you get your ticket?"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement, "Stanis is a magician," she replied, her smile widening.

Tom didn't press for more details; there was still a part of him that found Stanis intimidating. He could very well imagine Stanis being involved in a high society crime syndicate, the type where he knew dirt on everybody and would use it to his advantage. So instead, Tom settled back in his seat, smiling to himself as Noelle locked her pinky around his, the simple gesture filling him with warmth.

And that was how Tom found himself here: sitting on the cold auditorium stage floor, watching his castmates run through their final rehearsals. The memory of her finger wrapped around his was still fresh in his mind, a welcome reassurance that he could push his nerves down. The bustling energy around him, the snippets of dialogue floating through the air, all of it seemed more manageable with the thought of Noelle in the audience, her presence a comforting anchor.

As he tried to focus on his lines, a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

"Jordan! How many hours did you sleep?" Marcelline's voice carried across the auditorium.

Tom couldn't help but snicker to himself as Jordan forced himself to look up at the camera, a dry, tired glare crossing his face.

"Eight," Jordan answered bluntly, his voice tinged with irritation. Somehow, it still didn't look like enough for Jordan.

Tom's amusement was short-lived as he realized his own exhaustion mirrored Jordan's. The final rehearsal was proving to be as challenging as he'd anticipated, but the thought of Noelle watching him perform kept him going. He straightened up, ready to dive back into his role, determined to give it his all.

In the dressing room, the tension wrapped around Bianca like a suffocating shroud. She meticulously adjusted the layers of her costume, her movements sharp with a lingering resentment she refused to acknowledge. As Iseul delicately applied makeup nearby, she ventured cautiously once more into the fraught silence.

"You've been awfully quiet all day," she noted, carefully applying her eyeliner in the mirror.

Bianca scoffed back, "I've had a lot to do today," she replied simply, "Stanis doesn't have just one star pupil, after all,"

At that, Iseul put her liner down, turning to her friend with a concerned scowl, “Bianca, I know how close you are with Noelle,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “but do you think there might be a part of you that’s feeling… maybe a little jealous?”

Bianca froze mid-adjustment, her brows knitting together defensively, “Jealous? No way,” she retorted, her tone sharp with denial, “Why the hell should I be jealous of her?”

Iseul sighed softly, sensing Bianca’s resistance. “It’s okay to feel that way, Bianca. It happens between friends, more often than you think. But maybe… maybe you’re projecting your fears onto her?”

Bianca shook her head adamantly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. “I’m not projecting anything,” she insisted, her voice wavering slightly. “I'm not afraid of anything, either. I'm a friggin' ballerina in New York City for Christ sake...” her voice trailed off, the unspoken fears lingering heavy in the air.

Iseul reached out, placing a comforting hand on Bianca’s arm. “Bianca, listen. Noelle’s not you. She feels things more, she had a lot of compassion for people. I'm not saying you don't!" she held up a finger before Bianca could interrupt. "But... even you've admitted you can be intense, and stressed. And we know how stressed you've been since getting this part --"

"What is your point, Iseul?" Bianca finally asked, "We have like -- ten minutes before we have to be on stage!"

"I know!"

"So get to the fucking point!"

"Don't be so mean to Noelle! And lighten up about Tom," she told her.

Bianca scoffed, "And what does Tom have to do with anything?"

"Noelle told me what you said about him. How he's no good for her? For the record I completely disagree, but... Maybe you think that because you're jealous of her? You're jealous of what they have?" she reasoned gently, “Maybe instead of antagonizing her, you could talk to her. Tell her how you're feeling, truly,”

Bianca hesitated, her emotions a tumultuous storm inside her, “I'm not jealous, Iseul. I'm just... I'm so sick of everything coming so easily to Noelle!” she admitted quietly, her eyes avoiding Iseul’s gaze, “She's got a great body, flawless hair, everybody loves her -- even friggin' Stanis! And why not me? Why can't I be that likeable? Why can't the guy that I like just pay attention to me and not to her?"

Iseul’s heart ached for her friend, seeing the vulnerability beneath Bianca’s facade of strength, “Bianca, of course people like you! We're your friends!” she reassured softly, “But to be honest... you can be really bitchy sometimes, and just really unapproachable. And if that's the way you've been feeling then maybe you should talk to Noelle about it? Just be honest with her! She'll definitely understand!”

"Will she? How could Little Miss Perfect possibly understand?" she rolled her eyes.

Iseul cocked a brow, "What perfect? She gets zits and period cramps just like we do. She farts and burns her food just like us. Her parents are deadbeats who probably don't even give her a second thought. And she had to miss this recital because she got really sick, and you got her part! So really -- how perfect is her life?"

"You're not gonna' guilt me, Iseul!" Bianca snapped, "I worked just as hard for Giselle as she did!"

"I'm not trying to guilt you, Bianca!" Iseul snapped back, "I just want you to chill! You and Noelle have been best friends since kindergarten, and you know she has your back! You don't need to be threatened by her!"

Bianca nodded slowly, her thoughts swirling with conflicting emotions, “I guess so,” she murmured finally, a mixture of resentment and determination simmering beneath the surface.

As they finished preparing for the performance, Bianca’s heart was still heavy with unspoken fears and unresolved feelings. Deep down, she knew she needed to confront the truth she had been avoiding: the fear of losing herself in Noelle's shadow, losing her to someone who might not understand her as deeply as Bianca did. Yet, amidst the swirl of emotions, Bianca clung to her denial, unwilling to admit the jealousy that gnawed at her heart.

Just as the tense silence settled between them, a knock on the dressing room door broke the moment. Startled, Iseul turned to see a delivery person holding a bouquet of vibrant red roses, a card nestled among the blooms.

"I've got a bouquet delivery for Iseul Jeong," he announced. Iseul's surprise was palpable as she accepted the flowers.

"Oh my gosh, thank you!" the delivery man took off with a curt nod and Iseul settled back in her chair, both girls adamant and curious as she read the note.

“Dear Iseul, good luck on your performance tonight! Wish I could be there in person, but I already know you're going to kill it! All the best... your secret admirer? I've got a secret admirer!” Iseul exclaimed softly, her cheeks tinged pink with pleasure.

Bianca’s gaze flickered to the roses, her irritation simmering beneath the surface as she averted her eyes. The timing of the gesture felt like a cruel twist of the knife, a reminder of her own tangled emotions. She busied herself with her makeup, her thoughts a turbulent storm of envy and uncertainty.

As Iseul admired the flowers, a faint smile playing on her lips, Bianca wrestled with her inner turmoil. She knew she needed to confront Noelle, to voice her fears and concerns. Yet, as she watched Iseul’s delighted reaction, a part of her couldn’t help but resent the happiness that seemed just out of her reach.

The auditorium hummed with the low murmur of excited conversations, the anticipation of the upcoming ballet recital palpable in the air. Noelle and her family settled into their seats, Franca fussing with Chiara's hair and trying to fix her slightly smudged makeup. And ever in her teenage angst, Chiara batted her away like a bratty cat. Noelle, however, was only half paying attention. Her eyes kept darting to the illuminated face of her watch, or she would double check that she had her ticket in her purse.

In another part of the campus, Tom was in the final stages of preparing for his performance. The backstage area was a flurry of activity as actors milled about, doing vocal exercises and stretches. Tom adjusted his costume, the stiff collar and unfamiliar fabric feeling both thrilling and constricting.

He glanced at the mirror, taking in the reflection of himself as Boris Trigorin. Excitement bubbled in his chest, mingling with a gnawing apprehension. He could hear snippets of lines and bursts of laughter from his castmates, their warmups filling the air with a kind of chaotic energy. Tom’s fingers tapped nervously against his script, the worn pages a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

Back in the auditorium, Franca leaned over, her voice coming in a whisper "Are you feeling alright? Do you want to stand up before the show?” Franca’s voice was a soft but frantic hum in the background as Noelle’s gaze flicked to her watch again.

"I'm fine, Franca. Don't worry," Noelle smiled reassuringly.

The house lights dimmed, signaling the start of the performance. Noelle’s heart pounded, not only from the excitement of seeing her friends dance but also from the anticipation of what lay ahead with Tom. She forced herself to focus on the stage as the first notes of the orchestra swelled, the curtains parting to reveal the dancers.

Tom, meanwhile, took a deep breath, the finality of the upcoming performance settling in. He moved to join his fellow actors, feeling the camaraderie as they wished each other luck. The scent of greasepaint and the soft rustle of costumes created a familiar backdrop to his growing nerves.

As the ballet began, Noelle’s eyes flickered between the graceful movements on stage and the persistent ticking of her watch. Her friends twirled and leaped with ethereal beauty, their dedication evident in every precise step. Noelle felt a pang of pride and longing, wishing she could fully immerse herself in the moment but knowing that her mind was already halfway to Tom’s show.

Despite the tremendous music, Maurice could still hear Chiara's nails tapping away over her phone. She was texting furiously. With aloof dismay, he leaned over, his voice barely a whisper as he scolded her, "Put the phone away, Chiara. Security's gonna think you're filming," Chiara sighed dramatically beside them, clearly unimpressed, but Noelle remained oblivious, her thoughts far away.

As Noelle watched Bianca gracefully glide across the stage, her emotions swirled like a tempestuous sea. Pride welled up within her, a fierce joy that threatened to overflow as she witnessed her friend's flawless execution of each pirouette and arabesque. Yet, beneath the surface, a trace of lingering resentment lingered from their recent argument. Despite the saltiness tainting her admiration, Noelle couldn't deny the admiration she felt for Bianca's talent and dedication, her heart swelling with conflicting emotions as she applauded vigorously at the performance's end.

Sunny sat in the dimly lit theatre, his anticipation palpable as he waited for the play to begin. His fingers twitched with nervous energy, but he was anxious as his phone buzzed discreetly in his pocket. Retrieving it, he read the confirmation text: his flower bouquet had been delivered anonymously. The gesture warmed his heart, and he couldn’t suppress a giddy smile as he imagined Iseul's surprise and -- hopefully -- delight. He hoped she wouldn't think she had a crazy stalker or anything. Adjusting in his seat, Sunny glanced around the theatre, his excitement growing as the lights dimmed and the stage came to life.

Tom’s turn on stage was fast approaching. He joined the others in a circle, their whispered encouragements a soothing balm to his nerves. His mind wandered briefly to Noelle, imagining her in the audience, her presence a steadying force. He straightened his costume one last time, taking another deep breath.

As the ballet performance reached its crescendo, Noelle’s eyes met her watch once more. It was almost time. She leaned over to Franca, whispering her plan to slip out quietly. Franca nodded, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Noelle rose from her seat, her heart pounding with a mix of emotions. She cast one last look at her friends on stage, then slipped out of the auditorium, her steps quickening with purpose.

Tom stood in the wings, the stage lights casting long shadows. The call for his scene came, and he moved forward, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Somewhere out there, he knew Noelle was making her way to support him, and the thought filled him with a surge of confidence.

As he stepped onto the stage, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the performance and the promise of seeing Noelle after the final bow.

Noelle slowed her pace to a cautious jog, mindful of her surgeon’s warnings against strenuous activity, including running. She focused on reaching the theater without pushing herself too far into discomfort. The new auditorium for the theater kids was more accessible this time, and she navigated towards it with determination, her purse clutched tightly as if afraid her ticket might escape.

Arriving breathless, Noelle found the door attendant in the process of closing up. Her lungs protested the exertion, legs already sore from the brief jog. She managed to catch her breath enough to hand over her ticket, which the attendant glanced at briefly before nodding her through the entrance. The theatre was already dark, the actors already on stage opening up the scene when Noelle ducked in. She skimmed along the wall and finding one in a handful of empty seats in the back row.

Just as she sat down, Tom stepped onto the stage, his heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement. The auditorium stretched before him, a sea of expectant faces shimmering under the soft glow of stage lights. His gaze flickered across the audience, searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of Noelle.

"In this tranquil setting," he began, his voice steady and resonant, "where the lake whispers secrets to the wind, I find solace in the embrace of nature's beauty."

Marcelline, embodying Nina's youthful admiration, approached him with eagerness, "Boris, tell me of your latest story. Your words weave magic in my mind."

Tom, as Trigorin, smiled warmly at Marcelline, his eyes reflecting the character's depth of experience. "Ah, Nina," he replied, "your enthusiasm is a balm to my soul. I draw inspiration from the simplest of moments, the fleeting whispers of life."

Jordan, portraying Konstantin, interjected with a hint of resentment. "Your stories, Boris, they enchant Nina and the world. But do they speak of truth or mere fantasies?"

Tom met Jordan's gaze, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Ah, Konstantin," he mused, "the artist's eternal dilemma. Truth, illusion—perhaps they are two sides of the same coin, perceived differently by each soul."

The other actors, fully immersed in their roles, engaged in a lively discussion that echoed Chekhov's exploration of art and existence. Tom's performance carried the weight of Trigorin's introspective nature, his voice resonating with the character's complexities.

Throughout the scene, Tom's eyes darted to the audience between lines, silently hoping to spot Noelle among them. His performance, a delicate dance of words and emotions, captured the essence of Chekhov's themes while his heart beat in anticipation of her presence.

Noelle sat in the dimly lit auditorium, her gaze fixed on the stage where Tom, transformed into Trigorin, held court with his eloquent words and charismatic presence. The play's dialogue floated through the air, mingling with the soft rustling of the audience and the occasional cough. Yet, for Noelle, all peripheral sounds faded into insignificance as she watched him.

Tom's voice resonated with a depth that captivated her, each word a brushstroke painting vivid images in her mind. His eyes, usually warm and inviting in their everyday encounters, now held a new intensity—a reflection of Trigorin's conflicted soul. She noticed the subtle shifts in his expression, the way he leaned forward in earnest engagement with his fellow actors, and the graceful gestures that punctuated his dialogue.

As Trigorin, Tom embodied a blend of charm and vulnerability that stirred something deep within Noelle. It wasn't just the character he portrayed but the essence of Tom himself, laid bare on stage. She felt drawn to him in ways she hadn't fully acknowledged before, his presence enveloping her thoughts and emotions with an undeniable allure.

In the darkness of the auditorium, surrounded by the unfolding drama and the palpable energy of the performance, Noelle's heart beat in sync with the rhythm of the play. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Tom, each fleeting glance he cast towards the audience igniting a flutter of anticipation in her chest. The distance between them seemed both vast and infinitesimal, a tension she struggled to define yet couldn't deny.

Noelle's fingers curled around the armrest of her seat, her breath catching in moments of poignant dialogue that resonated with her own inner turmoil. She watched Tom with a mixture of admiration and longing, the lines between reality and fiction blurring as she found herself caught in the spell he wove with every word and gesture.

She glanced around the theater, noticing the rapt attention of the audience, but her focus remained on Tom. In that moment, watching him embody Trigorin's complexity, she couldn't deny the magnetic pull he exerted on her heart. Each word, each gesture only deepened her admiration and affection for him.

And then finally, finally, Tom saw her. As his gaze settled on Noelle, a soft smile touched his lips, and he delivered his line with an intensity that resonated with his own emotions:

"Amidst the chaos of life's stage, a solitary figure emerges—a beacon of serenity in a sea of tumult...."

The words carried a dual meaning, echoing both the character's sentiment and his personal recognition of Noelle's presence; a calming presence amidst the nerves and anticipation of the performance. He was doing so well, he was so close and he would be at the end.

On stage, Bianca's movements were fluid and precise, each step echoing the rhythm of the music pulsing through the theater. As she pirouetted and leaped, her eyes occasionally strayed to the audience, seeking a familiar face. Amidst the sea of spectators, she caught sight of Noelle's family—her aunt adjusting her seat, her uncle leaning forward with interest. But Noelle's absence was palpable, a void in the audience that Bianca couldn't help but feel keenly.

A flicker of disappointment crossed her features, mingled with a hint of resentment that tightened her movements, infusing her dance with an unexpected intensity. She pushed through, channeling her emotions into each graceful arc and turn, determined to make her performance memorable despite the absence that weighed on her heart.

The final curtain fell with a hushed finality, the stage bathed in the glow of the overhead lights. The audience erupted into a thunderous standing ovation, hands clapping in unison as cheers filled the air. Backstage, the cast of gathered, their faces glowing with relief and pride. Tom stood among them, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He ran back on stage to take a final bow with his cast mates, so overwhelmed and grateful for the reception.

Amidst the celebration, Tom's gaze found Noelle in the audience. Her eyes sparkled with pride as she clapped enthusiastically, a radiant smile lighting up her face. Their eyes locked briefly, a silent exchange of shared joy and accomplishment passing between them. Tom's heart swelled with happiness, knowing that he had not only impressed the audience but also earned Noelle's admiration.

As the curtain fell and applause thundered through the theater, Tom found himself swept up in a whirlwind of backstage activity. He exchanged quick hugs and high-fives with Marcelline, Jordan, and the rest of the cast, their faces alight with exhilaration and relief. The adrenaline from the performance surged through him, keeping fatigue at bay as they navigated the maze of corridors backstage.

They reached the dressing rooms amidst laughter and excited chatter, the air thick with the lingering euphoria of a successful show. Tom sank into a vanity chair, his legs trembling with lingering nerves and the lingering rush of performing. His costume felt like a second skin, a reminder of the character he had just inhabited, and he couldn't help but replay moments of the play in his mind.

"Tom! Group photo!" Marcelline's voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back to the present. He pushed himself up with a smile, joining the cast for a photo that captured their shared triumph. Flashbulbs popped as they posed, their faces still flushed with the heat of the performance.

As the theater buzzed with post-show excitement, Tom stood near his dressing room, scanning the crowd with anticipation. Amidst the throng of well-wishers and fellow actors, he spotted Sunny weaving through the crowd, a wide grin plastered on his face. Sunny approached with his characteristic exuberance, arms outstretched in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Mate!" Sunny exclaimed, pulling Tom into a quick but heartfelt hug, "You killed it out there! Seriously, the whole audience was eating it up."

Tom laughed, returning Sunny's embrace briefly before pulling back to meet his friend's enthusiastic gaze. "Really?"

"Yeah! Fuck'n move over, Dicaprio!" Sunny clapped Tom on the shoulder, nodding towards the dispersing crowd, "You were incredible. And hey," he added with a wink, "I reckon someone else agrees with me," Sunny nodded subtly towards the hallway where Noelle stood, her presence a beacon amidst the backstage chaos.

Tom followed Sunny's gaze, his heartbeat quickening at the sight of her. Noelle's eyes met his across the room, her smile radiant and genuine. She approached them with a grace that seemed to quiet the bustling energy around them, her focus solely on Tom.

Noelle moved gracefully through the bustling crowd, her steps echoing just behind Tom's. As she approached, a rush of excitement and pride filled her chest. When Tom turned to face her, she couldn't contain her joy. With a playful squeak, she threw her arms around him, feeling his warm embrace as he lifted her off her feet for a brief moment. His presence, neroli oil mixed with the faint scent of his costume, enveloped her, filling her senses with a blend of musk and the lingering energy of the performance.

"Oh my gosh, Tom!" she murmured against his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity, "You were incredible!"

He chuckled softly, "Thank you, Noelle," he replied, his breath warm against her hair, "I'm so happy you could make it!"

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," she said softly, her fingers brushing lightly against his as they stood close together, "You're always worth the wait,"

Tom's smile widened, his gaze softening as he squeezed her hand gently, "And you make every moment special," he replied, his voice filled with quiet sincerity.

In that fleeting moment, amid the buzz of the crowd and the shared euphoria of the evening, Noelle felt a comforting warmth envelop her. As she locked eyes with Tom, a silent giddiness passed between them, a taste of whatever adventures lay ahead for them for the night...

[blackynsupremacy]

If the whole Ross family were casted and starred in “Smallville”: A Thread

Disclaimer: These are MY opinions, inner thoughts, and head canons. Also, thank you all so much for the love and reblogs on my previous thread series “If I were to cast more black women in Smallville” ! 😘 This thread will also be a mix of canon and head canon. I had this idea because I like Pete Ross as a character and his friendship with Clark. ☺️ I’ve noticed in some episodes that Pete has mentioned his family such his parents and siblings. Pete and Clark have mentioned Pete’s brothers and Pete mentioned he had a sister. I recognize that the series has casted Bill Ross (Father) and Abigail Ross (Mother), but sadly not any of his siblings! I’ve always wanted to know what they would look like, their jobs, and personalities if they were recurring/guest roles on the series, so I made a fan cast of what could’ve been! The names and some background information for these characters also came from the Smallville Wiki. Pete’s sister’s name is originally Kathy, but I think Kate would be better suited if I hc her as his twin.

taglist: @afrowrites @tinyurlamd

i just thought of ya’ll because you’re both excellent writers and inspire me to get more smallville content out there especially for poc!😘

The Ross Family

1. Pete Ross - Sam Jones III

The youngest brother yet the older twin. He’s Clark Kent’s confident, witty, and loyal childhood best friend. Protective brother, respectful son and skillful athlete. He occasionally works for “The Torch” at Smallville High and helps to piece together the weirdness of Smallville with his friends. Pete’s the first person outside of Clark’s parents to know his secret.

2. Katherine “Kate” Ross - Tatyana Ali

The younger twin and the “baby girl” as Bill refers to her. Do NOT call her “Kathy” Kate will do. She’s also Clark Kent’s close childhood friend along with Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang being her BFFs. She’s a bit more reserved than her twin, but she is amicable and empathetic towards her peers. An aspiring singer, straight A student, and avid shopper of the latest styles.

3. William “Bill” Ross- Dee Jay Jackson

The head of the Ross family. Once the owner of the Ross Creamed Corn Factory is now a well trusted lawyer in Smallville. (Formerly) married to Abigail and dotes on their 5 children. He can be stubborn, but he is loyal, understanding, and a natural leader.

4. Abigail Ross- Felecia M. Bell

The matriarch of the Ross family and former wife of Bill. She was born in Metropolis before getting her law degree in Kansas, marrying Bill, raising their 5 children, and becoming the county court judge in Smallville. Two things that she doesn’t play about: her family and serving justice for the people.

5. Mark Ross- Jaleel White

Bill and Abigail’s first born. A former football star and valedictorian of Smallville High, but he aims to follow in the footsteps of his parents by running his own law firm in Metropolis after he receives his degree at Harvard Law. He sometimes has to essentially play the “3rd parent” role to his younger siblings, but cares for his family nonetheless.

6. Michael “Mike” Ross- Ron Brown

The second son of the Ross family. Just like Mark and Bill, the best years of his life were playing for the Smallville High Crows. He received a full ride to play for KSU and study Political Science. The goal for the pro didn’t work out, he soon plans to run for office one day in Metropolis and give back to his community in Smallville. Sometimes he feels inadequate compared to his older brother, but is reassured he’s on the right path by his family.

7. Samuel “Sam” Ross - Nate Parker

The third born of the Ross Family. Another former athlete and alumni of Smallville High. He attended KSU to receive a BA in Criminal Justice to become a detective. He wants to resolve criminal issues and protect citizens in cities such as Metropolis, Smallville, and Gotham. He goes with the flow in some areas, but two things he takes seriously are his family and justice.

[january-summers]

I just made myself giggle, and I’ve decided to share why and make it everyone’s problem >:3c

I kind of have this crack treated seriously AU that’s been floating in the back of my brain on an off for a while and it goes like this:

The alpha team from PFL (plus who ever makes it funnier) end up in a simulation of what we might consider a modern au, or at least a sitcom america suburbia version of a modern au.

How? Uhhhh, they were exploring possible forerunner ruins and Santa’s cousin never finished their system set up so their trials are, uhm, whatever I need them to be.

Anyway, in suburbia land Carolina and York are the newly wed couple who have just moved into the area (or cul de sac, we can put them on a dead end street) which is densely populated by the other Freelancers.

Wyoming and Florida live together.

(So do Washington and Maine because I still ship it damnit!)

They start to realise none of this is real and that they’re trapped but all attempts to forcibly wake others or escape end in escapades.

So on and so forth, and everyone gets to (is forced to by the simulation which makes them think this is real life) use their pre-PFL names.

Now, not all of them have names which we know, some we often fill in with head canons or borrowed headcanons, like I picked up Mattias for Maine from a fic and it stuck in my head, and I like Kathrine (Kathy) or Caroline for Carolina but then I realised I couldn’t remember if I knew if York had a name or not.

And this is why I was giggling:

My brain threw out the option “Newton York.”

How do they get out of there? Either my best adult ass man boy Wash is able to notice some stuff and find Santa’s cousin and ask them to knock it off. Or after a series of hilarious hijinks the street finally makes it to the big local festival which they have to save from disaster (normal sitcom disaster like vodka in the free punch, missing decorations/leading act, a stolen prize winning plant/animal) and the credits roll on their season finale because all they had to do was make it there without anyone dying which almost happened.

Santa’s cousin was just bored and wanted to play Suburbs & Sitcoms, the lamest of D&D variations.

… also I kind of need most of the Freelancers to take a ridiculously long time to realise that Maine’s “housemate” David, is Washington because he doesn’t take his helmet off very often and they were all convinced Wash is at least 7 years younger than he actually is.

[stranger-marauders]

unbreakable

six: the party

chapter summary: Kate decides to take a different approach to navigating Steve’s party. Steve worries about Kate, but he wants to be with Nancy more.

chapter warnings: language, alcohol use/intoxication, mentions of an alcoholic parent, steve is a bad friend, stancy

word count: 4.8k

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STEVE HAD ALREADY ensured Kate’s presence at the party later that night by bringing her straight to his house after school.

Of course, there was nothing unusual about her being inside of his home. Kate had stayed at his house more times than she could possibly count on Tuesday nights alone, never mind if one considered the other days in the week. Normally on party nights, though, she didn’t like to stay if she could help it. Something about sleeping in a room across the hall where her best friend was getting his weekly lay wasn’t comforting.

For now, they both sat at his dining room table, trying their hardest to finish their homework. Steve had turned on the radio to play in the background, the newer songs playing more often than the older ones. When he had stood up to turn the volume knob up slightly on the radio to hear “If Anyone Falls,” Kate knew he was kissing her ass. It didn’t take much brainpower for her to figure out he was trying to better her mood through the power of Stevie Nicks.

It wasn’t her fault that things were awkward. The tension that hung in the air was just the same as all of the other evenings spent together before his parties: they’d both already begun anticipating the outcome of the night.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” Kate finally asked, not looking up from her math homework.

Steve immediately began fumbling over his words. “Oh, I, uh… No. No, no, you’re great. Perfect, even.”

“Hm,” she hummed softly, still focused. “You know, I still don’t understand why I have to be here.”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Steve replied. 

She only glared at him in response. 

“Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that.” He paused whenever Kate rolled her eyes. “Look, it’ll be fun just like it always is, okay? Promise.”

“Fun, my ass,” Kate mumbled under her breath, focusing even more on her homework.

“It will be, okay? Also, I definitely need your support. I can’t do this shit without you, you know that. It’s not the same.”

She sighed almost inaudibly, shaking her head slightly without looking up from her work.

“I know you love me,” Steve said, watching her carefully for her reaction. When she didn’t reply, looking completely unfazed, he cleared his throat. “Hey, I, uh… I–I almost forgot. My mom restocked the liquor cabinet if you want anything. I know it’s—”

“Sure, I could totally do a shot right now.”

His head quickly snapped back in her direction. “A shot?”

Yeah, preferably nine millimeter. “Calculus sucks, Steve.”

Steve put his hands up in surrender. “Look, I–I’m not doubting that, seriously, I just—” He stopped to look at his watch. “It’s not even five o’clock yet, Kathy.”

“All the more reason to do it,” she replied, her eyebrow quirking upward slightly. Whenever his worried expression didn’t change, however, Kate sighed, shaking her head once. “Look, just open the riesling and we’ll call it even.”

His stomach churned at the thought of giving her a glass of wine, even if it was just wine. Kate had never been much more than a social drinker, and he’d never been given an exact reason why. Steve could only assume part of it was because of her father’s alcoholic tendencies. He thought that maybe part of it was because she liked watching him make a fool out of himself when he was drunk himself (because he absolutely made a fool out of himself, even if he didn’t want to admit it). Steve had never gained the courage to ask directly because he didn’t want to bother her about it, even if he thought it would take some of the anxiety away. Nonetheless, he always asked her if she wanted something while they were at his house, just in case she ever decided to drink with him alone.

Steve, however, hadn’t been prepared for the change in answer tonight. “You sure nothing’s wrong?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Oh my God, I’m fine. I just need a break, you know? Thought you’d be thrilled at the sound of that, honestly.”

He shrugged in return—her answer hadn’t made him feel any better. “Fine. Riesling it is.”

“And none of that sliver of a glass shit, we’re denting it.”

Steve snorted before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. The thought of drinking a noticeable amount of wine with her before the party began slightly disturbed him, but he didn’t want to make waves. For the first time in a long time, Kate was willing to let loose in more ways than one, and he wasn’t going to question it. Not yet. None of it, however, stopped him from worrying about her.

Kate, on the other hand, knew that if she tried hard enough, she could finally fall numb to the pain that Steve Harrington caused her on nights like this one: the same pain she couldn’t even begin to explain, even if she tried.

She didn’t think it was a problem. She’d watched her entire life as people drank away their problems. Besides, she didn’t think she would have any fun if she didn’t drink. Quite frankly, she wasn’t in the mood for any of Steve’s typical behavior, and she certainly didn’t think she was ready to deal with Tommy or Carol, either. 

That was why the alcohol went down rather quickly. Out of wines, she certainly liked riesling more than most, mostly because it didn’t taste like alcohol, but she didn’t like it enough to go through three cups of it before Tommy and Carol arrived.

By the time Nancy and Barbara had arrived at the Harrington residence that evening, Kate hadn’t had too much to drink, at least not in her opinion. Steve, however, had grown increasingly worried.

He could barely recognize the girl that sat in front of him now. There was something unsettling about the way she was currently, something about her sprawled out on the couch with a beer can in her hand that made him tick. That was his Kathy, not Tommy’s nor Carol’s, even though the way she was sharing the couch with her currently proved otherwise. She didn’t seem anything like herself, and that was something that completely horrified him.

Even though Steve was concerned, he still didn’t do anything to stop her.

As the alcohol slowly invaded her bloodstream, Kate felt the buzz within her. The buzz that only told her more, more. She didn’t dare refuse, but she obeyed as she let the alcohol burn in her system like fuel. She finally understood why her father was an alcoholic: for once, he was finally able to feel something. For all those years, she never quite understood the fire that ignited once it entered your system. Now, though, she understood it, and she wasn’t afraid of it in the slightest.

Whenever the doorbell rang, Kate looked at Steve, watching him for his reaction. Her eyes traced over him as he smiled for half a second, almost like for a moment he thought that Nancy wasn’t actually going to come, and he ran his hand through his hair as he went to open it for her. 

Carol groaned. “I really don’t understand what he sees in this one.”

“Me neither,” Kate said softly, finishing what was left of her can of beer. “I want another one.”

The redhead turned to her, giving her a confused look. “Another one? Seriously?”

She shrugged. “What? It’s not like I’m drunk or anything.”

“Yeah, you also haven’t stood up since you stopped drinking the wine.”

Tommy chuckled from across the room, sitting in one of the big comfy chairs with a beer in his hand. “Yeah, Harrington’s been your beer bitch all night.”

Kate leaned her head back over the armrest, her vision moving a tick behind. She giggled at the sensation. “I’m not that fucked up. My eyes are just a little… slow.”

“Slow?”

Before she could answer the question, her attention was snagged by Steve, as well as Nancy and her friend’s newfound presence in the living room. Kate almost rolled her eyes instinctively—what type of person took their best friend to a hookup? She very quickly, however, remembered her place in this situation as the other party’s best friend who had been brought to a hookup.

“All right, you guys wanna go out back?” Steve asked, looking at Nancy, then Kate. It was almost like he was looking for their approval.

“Let’s go, Harrington,” Tommy said, not needing another hint. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

Whenever Kate stood up off the couch, she realized how heavy her head felt, and she became self-aware of how much she’d actually had to drink, even if she couldn’t remember exactly what she’d consumed. When she regained her balance, taking a few careful steps to ensure she was fine, she knew that this was the most drunk she’d ever been. That didn’t, however, stop her from grabbing another beer whenever she went outside.

It also didn’t stop her from drinking two or three more. She couldn’t remember how many she’d had now, but it had been enough where time seemed to be whizzing by and simultaneously not moving at all. Kate tried not to pay too much attention to the group as a whole, mostly because she didn’t want to think about any of it. Currently, Tommy was trying to throw Carol into the pool, and Steve was attempting to flirt with Nancy. On occasion, Barbara talked to her, tried to make the situation better for the two of them, but Kate could hardly stand any of it. 

In hindsight, she didn’t know why she thought drinking would somehow better the situation. She should have known that her tolerance for bullshit was greatly lowered whenever she started drinking, and she especially should have known that it would diminish to even lower standards if she got this drunk. Of course, Kate hadn’t prepared for that. She hadn’t even thought to prepare for that. 

Something else she hadn’t thought to prepare for was how much she’d feel. Kate hadn’t truly realized how much she’d cared about all the girls he fucked around with until she’d gotten so drunk, until he’d flirted with Nancy right in front of her. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. How was a person supposed to feel whenever their best friend was flirting with someone else in front of them? It was absolute bullshit, especially when she loved him—

Oh.

Kate tried to push it out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about what all of that meant. Right now wasn’t the time for that. Her brain was fuzzy, and that was without the emotional turmoil going on inside of it currently. No, this was a tomorrow issue. That was if she remembered that she’d even had the thoughts in the first place.

“You okay?”

The two words halted Kate’s thoughts like they were a brick wall, making her turn to the source: Barbara. “Hm?”

“I said, ‘are you okay?’” Barbara asked again. “You look like you’re in your head, or something.”

Kate hesitated, nodding. “Y–Yeah.”

Barbara pulled her chair closer to her, watching the rest of the group that Kate seemed to be fixating on, though possibly not on purpose. “Some party, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kate said, slurring her words. “I just got… dragged along. You know? Just like I, uh… Just like I normally do.”

She shook her head. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“This,” Barb said, gesturing out to the people in front of her. “All the time. I don’t get it.”

Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. You… You get used to them. After a while.”

“I just…” She hesitated to go on. “You’re just so different from the rest of them. Tommy and Carol and Steve, I mean. How are you even friends with them?”

She shrugged again. “I’m not, really. Just friends with Steve.”

“Like that’s much better.”

Kate chuckled in response. “You know, they’re tolerable whenever you’re around them all the time. Steve is… He’s been a good friend, for the most part.”

Barb shook her head. “If he was a good friend to you, you wouldn’t be here right now.���

“Couldn’t you say the same thing about Nancy?” Kate asked. “She obviously dragged you here, too.”

She sighed softly. “Yeah, but Nancy… She doesn’t do anything like this normally, you know? This seems… a little too normal for you to be here all the time.”

Kate sighed, taking another sip of her beer. “What can I say? He needs me.”

Barbara turned back to watch Nancy interact with Steve once again. “I think you care too much about him. Much more than he deserves, anyway.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replied, turning back to look at the blonde. “You deserve more than that, Kate. A lot more.”

She shrugged carelessly, taking another sip of beer as she watched Steve carefully. God, she hated him. She hated his stupid hair, his stupid crush on Nancy Wheeler, the stupid cigarette that sat tucked behind his ear, the stupid flask he had in his hand. She hated herself for every decision she’d ever made that led up to her sitting outside at Steve’s house in the dark in November, freezing her ass off while she drank shitty beer just to feel something.

She quickly became distracted again when Steve had finally stood from his chair again, throwing the cigarette he’d been smoking to the ground. She watched him carefully as he pulled a pocketknife from his pocket and cut a hole into the bottom of his beer to shotgun what was left of it, just to pull the cigarette from behind his ear to smoke it once he’d thrown the can to the ground.

Of course, Nancy had been watching, too.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” she asked, obviously not as impressed as Steve would have hoped.

“You’re not?” he asked, the cigarette still hanging out of his mouth.

“You are a cliché. You do realize that?”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” he said, finally lighting the cigarette that still sat between his teeth.

“Okay.”

Kate found herself shocked beyond belief. She couldn’t believe that Nancy was falling for Steve’s tricks, not even a good one of his, and she could only watch in silence. Of course, Barbara was also watching her friend in utter disappointment.

Up until now, Barbara had always been under the impression that Nancy would have never done anything like this. Her best friend had never exactly been boy-crazed or anything of the sort, which was why the scene unfolding in front of her confused her even more. She didn’t seem like Nancy at all.

As she watched Nancy and Steve now, Kate mulled over Barbara’s words in her head. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she had said, the first thought that had come into her head right after she’d spoken, because that couldn’t be it. She’d never thought about Steve like that, not really, and as she watched him now, it certainly didn’t help. Now wasn’t the time for it. It’s not like she wanted to think about him that way, but the more she tried to push the thoughts away, the more she couldn’t. Despite everything within her screaming “no” to her, more than ever before, Kate wished the girl that Steve was trying so hard to impress was her.

Kate had been brought back to reality whenever Nancy’s shotgunned beer can clattered to the ground.

“Why don’t you give it a try, Katie?” Tommy asked, taking a puff of his cigarette.

She almost didn’t understand what he was saying. “What?”

Steve shook his head, putting his arm out. “No. Absolutely not.”

Kate, however, didn’t seem to care what he thought. “No, I–I can do it.”

“No. You’re not doing it.”

“But—”

“No, okay? Don’t be stupid, you’re not—”

“Steeeevie.”

Steve quickly averted his gaze as he swallowed the lump in his throat, scratching at the neckline of his shirt. He hadn’t heard her call him Stevie since she’d first moved to Hawkins. After he’d quickly composed himself, his face still slightly pink, he looked back at her. “Kathy, please just stop. You’d never do anything like this if you weren’t so—”

“She can do it if she wants to, Stevie,” Tommy said, holding another beer can out to her.

“Yeah, I wanna try it, too. Stop telling me what to do,” she said, taking the can out of Tommy’s hand. 

“Kathy—”

Carol scoffed, cutting him off. “She’s not eight years old, Steve, she’s fine.”

Steve hesitated to speak again, his face taut. When Nancy hesitantly handed her the pocketknife, he sighed, running a hand through his hair absent-mindedly. He’d been so caught up in Kate and what she was doing that he hadn’t even noticed how Nancy was looking at him. Even Barbara had given him a glance and noticed his worried stature.

For the first time in a long time, Steve was nervous.

He didn’t know what it was that was making him nervous. It wasn’t like she hadn’t drank before, but he couldn’t ever think of a time when she’d ever drank that much. Steve thought maybe it was the way she’d been acting before the party, the carefree attitude she’d taken on that he’d almost willingly accepted just a few hours ago. He didn’t know what to think, but right now, all he could think about was her. 

The apparent tipsiness of his stature didn’t help. He wasn’t as drunk as Kate, sure, but he certainly wished he was less intoxicated than he currently was. His leg bounced slightly as he played with the neckline of his shirt, scratching the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, even if he wanted to. Steve, however, knew he couldn’t. Something in the back of his mind was screaming, begging for him to do something to stop her, but he couldn’t do that either.

All he could do was watch.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Kate chugged the beer quickly. She had little control over her actions now, and once she was finished with it, she almost dropped to the ground with her beer can, it clanking on the concrete, but she caught herself. If she wouldn’t have, Steve had made himself ready to catch her instead. He only stared at her now as she was praised by Tommy and Carol, which was something he never thought he would see.

It wasn’t a secret that Kate and Tommy had had their differences over the years. Tommy hadn’t even given her a chance whenever she’d moved back to Hawkins, and that was something Steve had never been able to understand. Kate hadn’t done anything wrong yet, but it certainly didn’t help over the years that she hadn’t ever gone out of her way to be kind to him or Carol, for that matter. 

It wasn’t like Carol had been kind to her, either. While to her face she treated her fine, Steve couldn’t even begin to remember how many times he’d heard her say something about her whenever she wasn’t there. Maybe it was about her lack of makeup, how her hair was just a little too frizzy, her figure, or maybe the way she dressed—Steve had seemingly heard it all. 

That was why he couldn’t believe the scene he was watching in front of him: he never thought he’d see Tommy and Carol actually be kind to her.

Nancy looked at her best friend. “Barb, you wanna try?”

“What? No,” she answered quickly, turning to Nancy. “No, I don’t want to. Thanks.”

“Come on.”

Steve, even if he knew that she didn’t want to shotgun a beer, saw it as an opportunity to take the attention off of Kate. He didn’t want to know what else Tommy would convince her to do. “Come on. Yeah.”

Barbara lowered her voice as she turned to her friend. “Nance. I don’t want to.”

“It’s fun! Just give it a—”

“Nance…”

“Just… Just give it a shot.”

Seemingly tired of defending herself, Barbara finally stood up from her lawn chair. “Okay.”

Barbara had only agreed to do it so that right after she’d shotgunned her beer, she could disappear from the spotlight and take her place in the shadows once again. At that moment, she wondered why she hadn’t left hours ago, why she hadn’t made Nancy go without her, or even better, why she hadn’t made the both of them just go home. Suddenly, she remembered: she was only there so Nancy could be with Steve.

Barbara, however, had noticed something she would never tell her best friend, not unless Nancy asked her. While she had never truly talked to Steve Harrington or Kate Hopper before that day, before that night, really, she had noticed in just a few hours how the two cared for one another. Now she understood why everyone at school thought that they were secretly together. Barbara had no idea why Nancy would even try to pursue him: it was more than obvious that Steve Harrington cared about Kate Hopper more than anything else in the entire world, and that was more than any girl, Tommy and Carol, even, and nothing could take that away from him, no matter what.

That was when Barbara realized that Steve didn’t even know that he was in love with his best friend.

When Barbara took the knife from Kate’s hand, Steve took another drag on his cigarette.

“So, you just…” Barbara trailed off when she cut herself on the knife, the can rolling swiftly out of her hand.

“Gnarly,” Tommy said, snickering.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, worry lacing her voice and etching her face.

“Yeah.”

Whenever she looked down at her hand, however, Nancy thought otherwise. “Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” she said bitterly. Without another word, she looked at Steve. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Steve jumped up quickly, his own intoxication level showing slightly whenever he stumbled as he stood. “Oh, it’s… it’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to–to the left.”

As she walked away, Steve sighed. In a way, he felt guilty for the thought, but he was simply glad that it hadn’t been Kate who cut her hand open. When he looked at his best friend, he almost hadn’t noticed that she, currently, was taking her sweater off. 

“Kathy.”

“What?” she asked somewhat whiny once she’d gotten her sweater over her head. “Tommy said I wouldn’t do it!”

When Steve quickly shot a look of anger in his direction, Tommy shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Look, I didn’t think she would actually do it.”

Steve sighed, trying to get her attention. He gulped whenever her sweater was thrown onto the ground, leaving her only in a black bra and her jeans. He knew he’d seen her in less before, but that wasn’t something he wanted to think about. Not whenever she still looked that pretty without a sweater on. Not the girl, nor the time for anything like that.

“Kathy. Stop it.”

Even with Steve calling her name, she only seemed to ignore him. It wasn’t too long before Tommy dared her to take off her jeans too and Carol slapped him in response. At that point, Steve thought he could have killed him, but now he was too focused on the fact that she was trying to take her pants off.

“Kathy—”

“No, Stevie, it’s fine. It’s a… It’s a pool party anyway, right?” she slurred, fumbling with the button on her jeans. “Can’t swim in… in your clothes.”

Just before Kate could undo the button on her jeans, Steve panicked and pushed her into the pool. Tommy followed quickly behind him, shoving Carol in first. Steve even got to push Nancy in before he front-flipped into the pool after her.

Whenever she’d hit the water, Kate had almost frozen to death. When she finally emerged from the water, she shivered as she took in what was happening around her. It all seemed like a blur as Tommy and Carol made out, as Nancy chased Steve, who had taken one of her shoes. Now she could only hope that she wouldn’t turn into an ice cube. As she looked out into the trees behind Steve’s backyard, she could have sworn she saw something, someone, but she quickly forgot about it. She could barely register anything to begin with.

It hadn’t been too long before Steve had carried Kate out of the pool, wrapping a towel around her.

“Tha… Thank you,” she slurred, still shivering from the cold.

He sighed, letting go of her arms and looking away from her. “You’re so drunk.”

She scoffed seemingly overdramatically. “No, I’m not! I’m not drunk! I’m just cold.” She giggled—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her giggle like that before tonight. “I’m going to steal a sweatshirt from you, Stevie.”

Steve thought he was about to tear at the seams. “O–Okay.”

Before Kate skipped away, she bopped his nose lightly with a quiet “boop.” She didn’t even acknowledge the rest of the group before she happily made her way up the stairs to Steve’s room.

Now wasn’t the time to lose it. Even if Kate was driving him absolutely insane at the moment, he couldn’t lose it. It wouldn’t be fair to Nancy. It already wasn’t fair to her that he was stuck having to take care of his drunk best friend, but he couldn’t do anything to fix that. All he could do now was put her to bed and hope that he still had a chance with Nancy.

“She’s wasted,” Tommy said, almost snickering. It was like he couldn’t believe it. “I mean, can you believe it? Hopper, this wasted? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her pick up more than three drinks in a night, never mind this.”

Steve couldn’t even begin to formulate a response before Carol spoke on the matter.

“You know, I never thought she’d break out of her shell. Not with Daddy being police chief and all—”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Steve said sharply, cutting Carol off before she could say anything else about her. “She’s just… She’s just drunk. She probably won’t even remember any of this tomorrow.”

“Aw,” Carol responded. “Is Stevie worried about his little Katie?”

Steve didn’t know whether it was the amount of stress he was currently feeling or if it was the amount of alcohol he’d ingested that night, but, for once, he dropped the façade and spoke his mind. “Yeah, I am.”

Whenever no one responded to him, Tommy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well,” he started, quickly trying to change the subject, “I hear his mom’s room has a fireplace.”

“Are you kidding?”

Of course, Tommy and Carol both ignored him. “Oh yeah?”

Steve shouted louder at them as they walked toward his mother’s room. “Okay, well, you know, you are cleaning the sheets.”

Whenever the couple had closed the door to the room, closing them off from the rest of the house, Steve turned to Nancy. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Nancy gave him a tight-lipped smile, almost sympathetic. She might not have known him for long, but he could see the stress he was currently under, even if he tried to act like he didn’t care about anyone.

“Yeah, come on. Let’s get you some dry clothes. We can go check on her, too.”

“We should probably do that anyway, right? With her being that drunk?”

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck as they began to walk up the staircase. “Probably.”

Before Nancy could make it all the way up the stairs, however, someone called for her. “Nance!”

She turned around to find Barbara, waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. “Nancy. Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” she replied innocently, almost as if she didn’t know what was about to happen. “Just… upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool.” She stopped to chuckle at herself, but when Barbara didn’t laugh, she continued on. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home? I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance…”

“Barb. I’m fine.”

However, Barbara definitely didn’t think it was fine. “This isn’t you.”

As she spoke, Nancy didn’t know if she was reassuring her best friend or reassuring herself. “I’m fine. Just… go ahead and go home, okay?”

Without another word, Nancy walked up the rest of the stairs to meet Steve in his room.

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