#The only boys in blue I stan are strippers

[kalamity-jayne]

DON'T BE A BITCH ASS COP!!!

[juneviews]

how would you personally rank Off's characters?

also Gawin's and Mond's characters

I have a full post of me ranking off's characters already! but here it is for mond & gawin :)

MOND:

sun (midnight motel): ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS PERFORMANCE!!! carried the show!!! slayed beyond all expectations!!! truly incredible as the villain, one of my fave acting performance EVER I loved it so much. also sun in himself is the most interesting villain I've seen!

namnhao/namnuea (the judgement): shit show with problematic tropes but mond ATE!!! him as namnhao is not only unrecognizable & absolutely adorable, but really had some fucking top tier acting!

badz (boy for rent): the role that started it all. made me fall in love with this cutie & unable to ever go back. badz is hot af, the only character that didn't annoy me at some point during the show & the acting is very good.

kluay (water boyy): the first role I saw mond in!!! kluay honestly carried the show, he's so fun & flirty & cute and we love him in this house!!!

gram (not me): I love gram, but not the storyline he was stuck in for the whole show. I love how political gram is, how much he can be a debate-lord at times lol, and even that he's a scaredy cat. I LOVE the way he spits on dan when he betrays the gang & how he hugs sean after he gets shot. I LOVE his banter with nuch & will forever be a gramnuch stan. however, I didn't like how withdrawn from the rest of the gang they made him in order for him to pursue eugene, who looked uncomfortable the whole time & was his best friend's ex. gram had so much potential, but sadly he ended up being my least favorite character from not me bc he got the short end of the stick. mond did a great job though!

tee (the underclass): kinda forgettable show tbh but tee was a very cute love interest & I watched the whole show just for mond so slay!

matt (kiss me again): even though kiss me again is legit the worst gmmtv show ever made with ugly duckling: pity girl & turn left turn right, and matt's love interest is THE FUCKING WORST, he was kinda sorta okay I guess. to be frank I forgot everything from this storyline bc the way his love interest wanna prove he's gay is YIKES.

dodo (saneha stories: bar host): a hot, struggling stripper who becomes a literal dad??? if the show wasn't so short & rushed this would be way higher, mond ATE!

term (ps: I hate you): a hot dummie who forgives lies for love, which... couldn't be me lol so he's there.

por (fabulous 30): I really liked fabulous 30, and it wasn't because of the main character played by mond. por is bland AS ALL HELL, pushy & disregards his best friend's feelings, and he just... gave us nothing. at least he's cute thanks to mond's good looks though :')

GAWIN:

pisaeng (be my favorite): so it's very hard for me to decide which is my favorite gawin role, simply bc imo pisaeng, dan & mork are all my faves for very different reasons. but I will put pisaeng here bc I literally don't see how anyone could dislike him? like he's perfect but not boring & does have struggle, which we LOVE around here! also the depiction of him finding his sexuality in bmg ep.5 was INCREDIBLE I loved it so much!!! so pisaeng will be number one (for now!)

dan (not me): now, dan is on another plane of existence for me. I literally adore him & am a dan apologist THROUGH & THROUGH bestie. I genuinely think he's one of he most interesting characters I've EVER seen, and that makes it so he shouldn't be in this ranking. he EXCEEDS this ranking! I absolutely adore imperfect characters & I think the depiction gawin gave dan was perfect. BUT dan also gave me THE MOST PAINFUL betrayal scene in existence that literally has changed my dna TO THIS VERY DAY, so just for that I'll give him the number 2 spot :')

mork (dark blue kiss/kiss me again): girllllllllll, my heart aches having to put mork in number 3 bc I LITERALLY ADORE HIM!!! I was a huge dbk stan but since then I've legit rewatched the show only for mork lol, I absolutely love him & he's an amazing character! so as I said previously, mork is number one in my heart on a equal playing field as pisaeng & dan, I can't choose!

saifa (enchanté): literally the tiniest role but he was hot af AND played a guitar rendition of offgun's too cute to handle on the show???????? AN ABSOLUTE BLESSING THANK U! also he legit played cupid for akktheo so slayyyyyyyy!!!

mile (girl next room: motorbike baby): honestly better than the actual love interest cpodiuygsuichdisucodihb, hot & ALSO plays guitar (duh), too bad that he's a cheater lmao!

xxx

[antisociallilbrat]

Blue Steel Chp.1

Read on Ao3

Chp. 2

Rating: E

Summary: Stan Uris doesn't want to be here, he'd rather be anywhere but here. At a strip club. He doesn't want to listen to Richie flirt with the server, and he doesn't want to smell the sweat and sex. But then The Pussycat Dolls start playing over the speakers and the most handsome man he's ever seen walks out on the stage. There's humor, smut, and angst down the road.

Relationships: Stanley Uris/Bill Denbrough and Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrack

This was by far the most stupid idea Richie has ever had, and by going along with it, by proxy, that makes Stan stupid too. Oh how he loathes it.

It was for Richie’s birthday, that’s what he had to keep reminding himself. That's the only reason he agreed to this very, very idiotic idea. It’s the sole reason this is the first (and the last) time he’s setting foot into a male strip club .

If only his parents could see him now. Young established accountant who hasn’t been on a date in even a year, gritting his teeth while trying desperately to look like he’s having a fun time. Too bad they haven’t talked to him in three years, since he came out as gay.

Sitting on faded leather stools by a high table certainly too small to hold anything more than a couple drinks, the smell of cologne and sex is seeping into his cloths. The whole outfit is going to have to be thrown away, he can’t wear it again knowing where he's been in it. Not that that matters too much, Richie had picked out his outfit. Jeans that were two sizes too small that he’d been meaning to throw away and a button up shirt that had the first two buttons ripped out (Richie’s fault) that gave him no choice but to expose his collar bones.

Their table isn’t even that close to the one big stage in the room. He’d figure if Richie had ever managed to drag him into this musty place, they’d be right up front sitting on the couches that surrounded the stage. He mentally shudders at the idea what exactly is on the couches. Said couches are filled with what looks like a drunk bachelorette party, shrieking every time one of the beefcake strippers wink at them. That’s probably the norm for this place on a Friday night.

Granted, he still has a good view of said beefcakes from his table, but he’s a respectable man. Unlike almost every other guy sitting at the tables, hungry twinks eye fucking the strippers. But wait, Richie is also one of those twinks ( twunk? ) so maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Still though, he won’t oggle at them, the dancers are people too, just working a job. Wonders how many of the smiles are faked when a woman tucks money into their g-string.

All said, it does seem to be a decent setup for one of these places, not that he has much to compare it too. The bar behind them seems more tempting as he swishes his water bottle. This would be more enjoyable if he was a little drunk. Richie and him took a cab here so what’s the harm? Richie himself was well on his way to being drunk.

“Boys would you like a drink?”

Ah yes, an angel has appeared.

A server in tiny red shorts and a pink tank top that looks soaked to his torso arrives. (Places like these have servers? The twinks are the servers? ) Chestnut brown wavy hair compliments his caramel skin tone, as does the bright pink eyeshadow and glitter adorning his cheeks do. The guy is even in skates .  His name tag is labeled ‘little A’ he notices.

He looks expectantly between him and Richie, server book and pen in hand.

Richie breaks the silence by whistling, “Damn honey why are you taking the orders? You look like you should be on the stage.”

He can practically see Richie’s eyes turning into heart shapes.

Little A, just rolls his eyes and throws a thumb towards the shrieking women, “Thanks, I’m real flattered but I serve because I’m not the typical clientele’s type of man,” he replies sarcastically.

“You’re my type of man…” He leans forward, adjusting his glasses to read his nametag, “Little A,” he says out slowly.

The waiter only rolls his eyes again before facing away from Richie and completely towards him. “You? Mister I’d rather be anywhere than at this stripclub? Do you want a drink?”

Okay damn, that’s a call out.

Losing a little bit of composure his mouth hangs open. How are you supposed to respond to that? Does he look that miserable?

“Aw look at that, you took his breath away too,” Richie chides.

"Knock it off!” Little A responds, not turning from Stan, eyebrows raised. Looking smug and expectant.

“Uhm I guess Gin and Tonic?” He is a grown man, this guy who can’t be no older than twenty two shouldn’t be able to make him feel small like this.

Richie cheerfully says “me too handsome!”, obviously trying to get the guys attention back on him.

Little A just smiles a little and starts skating away after writing it down in his little waiter book.

“Hey wait! What does ‘ little A ’ mean?”. Richie calls out a little too late, watching the guys backside as he skates towards the bar.

“Tell you what Stanny boy, I can tell you right now ‘ little A ’ most certainly does not mean A as in ass. Because mister feisty is thick as hell.”

“Beep beep Richie.”

“Oh come on! You’ve barely said a word all night!” he reaches across the table to shove his shoulder, “liven up a little Stan. This is the famous King’s Palace!”

Yes he knows exactly where Richie has dragged him too, the place he hasn’t shut up about since they’ve moved to Atlanta. It’s one of the most highly rated but still small scale clubs in the whole city. Known mostly for it’s only word of mouth marketing. To which Richie had heard about it from one of his comedy buddies.

“Also it’s my birthday so you have to stand by my side as I woo our sexy little server.”

Okay fine.

“There’s no way he’s ‘ wooed ’ by you Trashmouth. Annoyed may be a better term for how he feels towards you.”

Dramatically throwing a hand over his heart, “Shots fired! By my own best friend! And on my birthday! Could there ever be a great- oh hello again.”

Just then Little A arrives with two Gin and Tonics in hand. And yes, he looks annoyed.

Setting them on the table (Stan’s quick to grab his and start drinking) he looks between them again. “If you need refills or new drinks, just wave me over, I’ll be around.”

“Any chance I can see around my place?” Richie never knows when to give it a rest does he?

Little A still looks annoyed but is that amusement starting to show through that brow furrow? Surely it can’t be. “You can't take a hint can you mister...?”

“Mister Richie Trashmouth Tozier,” he answers with a bad wink. “May I know your real name ‘ little A ’?”

Little A actually laughs a little, “Okay mister trash- mouth. And Little A is all you get to call me.”

“Mmm it’s not a good name to moan out though, wouldn’t you rather me say your actual name when I’m fantasizing later?”

Stan groans as Little A blushes? He really wishes he wasn’t being forced to listen to this interaction.

Little A doesn’t say anything back as he turns to skate away, Richie yelling out names that with A after him, “Adam?! Andy?! Alice?!”

That's exactly when the next act is being introduced to the stage, tearing his attention from Richie.

A woman’s voice comes over the speakers, “Good evening ladies, gays, and theys! It’s time to receive what you’ve been waiting for all night! Presenting audiences favorites, Big Diesel and Blue Steel!”

The black curtains behind the two poles on stage opens up to reveal two of the most attractive men he has ever seen.

“When I grow up” by The Pussycat Dolls start blaring overhead as the men strut on to the stage, the women on the couches screaming the loudest they have all night. He doesn’t even realize he’s standing to get a better look.

They’re both extremely hot. One is all dark skin and muscles, clad in gold booty shorts and a gold vest that says Big Diesel on the back that’s noticeable when he turns around to flex. A gold cowboy hat and cowboy boots complete his outfit.

The other one, one look at him and for a moment (a very brief moment) he thinks he could believe in love at first sight.

Dark brown hair that the stage light reflect hints of auburn red, and the most intense blue eyes he has ever seen. He’s slimmer than Big Diesel, but lean muscles still ripple under his smooth pale skin as he gets down his knees at the edge of the stage, hands behind his head and he moves his hips to the music. He’s dawned in something similar to the  other dancer. Silver instead of gold vest, and silver speedo instead of gold booty shorts. He too is wearing a cowboy hat that matches his color scheme and cowboy boots. Silver studs in his ears and silver hoop nipple piercings also differ from his stage partner.

Blue Steel .

His mouth feels suddenly very dry. Maybe it's from the fact that he’s finished his drink, or maybe it’s the fact that he can’t tear his eyes from Blue Steel’s crotch as it bounces as the dancer jumps and criss crosses his legs in beat with the music. The surrounding audience is practically pouring cash on the stage at their feet, amazed with them as much as Stan is.

This is not like him! He is better than this dammit! The only reason he’s here is to appease Richie, not to oggle these men just trying to make a living!

Still though, as the song wraps up he finds himself fretting that the dancers are about to head back behind the curtains.

But then “Don’t Cha,” also by The Pussycat Dolls comes on and the dancers start to walk off the stage and into the crowd. Big Diesel goes over to the biggest couch, swaying his shoulders and hips as he lip syncs the music, completely mesmerizing the group. His smile is bright as they frantically tuck money into his shorts and vest pockets.

Blue steel approaches one of the other couches, heading straight to a woman with a sash that says ‘bride to be’. Stan can’t take his eyes off of him as the man lowers himself so that his knees bracket the woman’s thighs, practically shaking his junk in her face.

She doesn’t seem to mind as she laughs and screams, her and her friends flooding him with cash.

Blue Steel looks truly lost in the music, as his body moves smoothly to it, running his hands up and down his defined abs. His eyes are closed and his face is towards the ceiling, a small smile playing on his pouty lips.

Right when he feels himself embarrassingly starting to grow hard at the sight of it all, Blue Steel opens his eyes and makes direct eye contact with him. Stan can’t turn away as Blue Steel smirks at him and starts to break himself from the group of horny women and starts walking past the couches.

Towards him.

He can feel himself gulp and faintly hears Richie wolf whistle while he shoves his shoulder.

It’s almost like he’s in a trance as Blue Steel approaches him, somehow he’s found himself sitting back on the stool. When did that happen? What kind of cologne is Blue Steel wearing that’s so strong and so woodsy? Oh God, is he going to be able to tell that Stan is hard?

One thing he wasn’t able to tell from the stage is that Blue Steel is tall. Very tall . The man towers over Stan, even with him sitting on the high bar stool. His hips are still swaying and he manages to be moving to the music as he stands inches away from him.

Whatever he’s packing in that speedo, it looks more than adequate. Later he’ll feel bad for blatantly looking.

Blue Steel is so close now, he can see the sweat from the lights and dancing dripping off his body. It doesn’t gross him out nearly as much as it should. Those bold blue eyes he also notices are surrounded with a thick black eye liner, really making their color pop. Silver freckles are barley visible but he can see them dancing across his nose.

The dancer places his two big hands on Stan’s shoulders as he sways his shoulders with the beat, sashaying down a little so that his face is right right in front of him. He feels like he can’t breathe, his body has gone rigid straight. Blue Steel seems to know the effect he’s having on him, if his (boyish?) smile is anything to go by.

Tipping, that’s something he should be doing right now right? There’s a reason Richie stuffed a bunch of twenties (they’re both proud to say they’re relatively comfortable money wise) into his front pocket? That's the entire reason Blue Steel is over dancing on him, he's working. His fingers don’t seem to work but notices Richie reaching over to shove a couple twenties into the strap of the dancer’s speedo. Blue Steel breaks eye contact briefly to blow Richie a kiss.

Blue Steel’s beautiful eyes are now once again locked with his and mind fighting between wanting to write poetics about how his eyes compare to the raging ocean and his horny hindbrain wondering what kind of noises Blue Steel would make if Stan was to tug on the hoop piercing in his nipple with his teeth.

The dancer is simultaneously too close and not close enough. His hands go back behind his head as he looks down at him, taking him a minute to realize it's an open invitation to touch him. And God, does he want to. Despite that though, he can only bring himself to let his hands hover over the seductively moving hips.

Blue Steel fucking giggles, as he takes his hands and places them on his swaying hips himself. The hip bones are sharp but the surrounding muscles are defined, and thick. His hands stay stagnant, but he wonders what other areas would feel like to caress.  His mind is so in the gutter right now he doesn’t ever think he’s understood Richie more than he does right now.

“Having fun big boy?” Blue Steel asks, looking down at him over his high cheekbones.

Big boy? If anyone was to ever describe him, those are not the words they would use. But this is probably what Blue Steel calls all of the males he pays attention to while working. He finds himself fantasizing about what Blue Steel’s first words would be to him if they met anywhere else. Or on a first date. Would he pay as much attention to Stan as he’s doing right now?

Probably not.

Doesn’t matter as Blue Steel is absolutely mesmerizing and he’s harder in his pants than he’s ever been so he can only manage to nod, causing Blue Steel to giggle again.

Blue Steel looks across their table and notices Stan’s empty glass before picking it up, giving Stan a little playful pout. He doesn’t have time to question it before the dancer is calling out towards the bar, “Hey Ben, serve this g-gentlemen right here a vodka bulge, on me!”

Over the music he can’t hear an affirmative but did Blue Steel just order him a drink? And what in the hell is a ‘vodka bulge’?

The song that has seemed to go on forever is finally coming to a close and Blue Steel leans down to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, looking at him with that boyish smile on his lips once again, before turning to saunter off.

“Hey wait!” he finally breaks out of his stupor. Blue Steel turns to look at him with questioning eyebrows. Hastily he digs into pocket for his wallet, forgoing the twenties in his pockets, pulling out two one hundred dollar bills. It’s his emergency money but he feels the need to tip him well, let him know how appreciative of him he is. Him and his alluring beauty.

Tomorrow morning he’s going to consider himself just as bad as Richie with the server, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

Seeing the money Blue Steel walks back over, looking at him expectantly. Hesitantly he places the money in one of Blue Steel’s vest pockets, patting it as he retracts his hand. Blue Steel grabs his wrist before he fully manages to pull away though.

He brings his hand up to his face where he kisses his fingertips, the lips lingering on his thumb as he looks down at him. (God those lips are so plush.) After what feels like an eternity, he winks at him and walks away for the finale time.

Is that what heaven felt like?

Richie’s laughing brings him back to reality, “Stan the man ! Good God I never thought I’d see anything like that!” He proceeds to break into a fit of laughter. Richie is never going to let him live this down but he can’t bring himself to care at this moment.

“One vodka bulge,” Their server from earlier skates up to them, a large blue drink in a weird bulging glass in hand. He looks like he’s trying to retain his own fit of giggles, look smug as all hell, obviously witnessing what happened.

Silently he accepts the drink, Richie’s laughter died as soon as Little A rolled back up. Little A pays him no attention as he skates back towards the bar.

“Hey wait! Come back! You can roll into my heart!”

Little A doesn’t even glance back.

Sipping the drink, it’s strong and tastes like blue raspberries, not exactly bad taste but nothing he’d ever order for himself. His eyes go back to the stage where Blue Steel and Big Diesel have reconveyed on stage together. As the next song starts, a slower indie song that he has no idea what the name is, the two dancers start swaying on their respective poles. Blue Steel twists his whole body around it, jumping on the pole and his thighs flex with the pole between them.

It goes on a while, both dancers using the pole as if they know nothing else. Blue Steel looks lost in the music again, eyes closed as he flexes and swings around the pole. His head moves to the music. His drink goes faster than he means too, the pleasant thrum of alcohol pulsing through his veins. It does nothing to help his hard on and he considers ordering another ‘vodka bulge’.

Their act must be coming to a close as Big Diesel and Blue Steel meet up in the center of the stage, linking arms as they wave and wink at their adoring crowd. Are they a couple? There’s definitely something there between two dancers, the way they glance at each other adoringly.

Stupid jealous brain does not like that one bit.

The two dancers do their finale waves and make their way behind the closing curtain. It’s sad that’s over. What could have been? He still feels the ghost of Blue Steel’s lips on his cheek and fingertips. Odds are he’ll never see him again, and most certainly never learn who Blue Steel really is.

Unless he comes back.

For the rest of the night, the other dancers don’t even compare.

[writing-radionoises]

"Space Boy."

Craig Tucker. 

People know him as a "bad boy," someone who skips classes and smokes cigarettes. Someone scary, intimidating, and sometimes oddly attractive. However, you know him differently.

When you think of Craig Tucker, you think of space, animals, and all good things there are.

He's constantly spaced out, out of his body, so much that you've picked up on calling him "Space Boy." He's stoic, but fragile. He'll pack a punch, sure, but he'll regret it in about fifteen minutes.

If you were asked to describe Craig in one word, it'd be distant. Distracted. Tired. Anything of the sort.

You are Kenny McCormick, and you've known Craig since elementary school. Practically you're entire life. He wasn't always so distant and spaced out, he used to be quite the opposite. Third grade Craig Tucker was social, he loved talking and making friends. The very next year, though, he just snapped. Though "snapped" isn't quite the right word, you'd say he grew up too fast or such.

You know better now, but your fourth grader brain wouldn't of been about to comprehend such a thing until high school.

High school is where everything changed for all of you.

​​​High School was where you realized that you needed to change for the sake of your own mental health.

High school is where you realized you had a crush on your best friend.

High School was where your best friend admitted to you that he has disassociation and was beginning to develop derealization due to child abuse. 

Where you promised Craig you would never leave him, knowing it was a promise you couldn't keep.

The week you graduated from high school you picked up Karen and ran. Your mother told you to take Karen and run, get out of South Park and most importantly, never look back.

"I want you to pack up yours and Karen's stuff and take a bus out of here. I don't care if you go to Denver or Louisville, hell, go on and head to New Mexico or Kansas, wherever the money will take you. I don't want you or my little girl to grow up to be like anyone here . . . Get out and do something with your life, get out while you can," your mother said, sniffling as tears pricked at her eyes, "Most importantly, Kenny, never look back."

She handed you a bag of coins, most likely her tips from this week and you nodded, hugging your mother for the last time. 

You were only eighteen, recently turned, when you grabbed your sister and left for Denver. You only got to say goodbye to Craig.

Not Kyle. Not Stan. Not Butters. Not Wendy. Not Bebe. Not even Cartman.

You picked Karen up from school and saw Craig there. He was staring into a distance, deep blue eyes seemingly grayed out as he was lost in the depths of his own mind.

You tapped him on the shoulder, shaking him awake.

He looked over to you in surprise, eyes wide at first, "Oh, hey Kenny."

"Good afternoon, Space Boy," you answered with a grin, "How's it feel being an adult?"

The noirette shrugged, hands in his pockets, "It feels . . . Kinda weird, not much different, though. Maybe it's just me going into an episode again, I don't know. Nothing really feels different for me . . . I'm just happy I'm moving away from my dad soon."

You nodded in agreement, you never liked Craig's dad, especially after he practically ruined Craig's state of mind. More so because he doesn't like you, he thinks you are the reason Craig has bad grades and such, even though a doctor told him to his face that Craig has disassociation and bad grades can't really be helped.

"Yeah, I understand," you replied, seeing Karen exit the middle school. You turn to Craig and hold out your arms, gesturing for a hug. He complies, practically falling into your arms and holding your small frame tightly. You always forget how tall Craig is until you hug. 

"I hope life treats you well, Craig," you said, pronouncing his actual name instead of calling him "Fucker" or "Space Boy" felt weird.

"You too, Kenny. Take care of Karen and yourself, okay?" He responded, refusing to let go until you nodded.

Karen and Tricia walk hand in hand towards you two, and you tell Karen to say goodbye to Tricia. They hug and say they'll see each other tomorrow, on the first day of summer. Your heart breaks knowing that won't be true. You took Karen's hand and walked her to the bus stop. She didn't question why they were here, so you didn't explain. You bought tickets to head to Denver and boarded the bus, sitting in the back seat.

Karen whispered questions to you, and you answered. Your explained that you were Karen's mom now, you two were moving to Denver to start new. She was going to start at a new school, you were going to get a job and rent out an apartment.

"It'll be hard at first, but were going to make it," you said, your grip on her hand tightening.

Despite your calm exterior, you were rather upset and panicky. You were fifteen minutes into your new life and all you could think about were the people you miss. You've hated South Park throughout all the times you've died and been reborn, you have never wanted anything more than to leave, but the people you'd leave behind is what caught you. 

You wanted Craig. You wanted to hold his hand and joke about how much you'd miss Cartman's shenanigans.

You wanted Kyle to comfort you and tell you that what you were doing was right.

You wanted Clyde to hug you and tell you how much better you'll feel when you're away and fully transitioned.

You wanted Butters to cuddle you and tell you how good life would be too you in repayment for your childhood.

But all you had was Karen. You loved Karen with all your heart, but she was thirteen. She could not fulfill all your emotional needs. She couldn't carry all your emotional baggage on top of her own.

So you'll stay quiet and hope for the best. 

You're too scared to look back, anyway.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The next few weeks included spam texts from Craig, asking if you were okay, where you were, and all of that. You answered when you could, but you were busy. Life is hard when you're working two different waitress jobs, on top of trying to settle in, on top of trying to raise money for your transition, and on top of caring for Karen. You and Karen settled in at a hotel for now, until you could rent an apartment. Karen offered to work, too, she wanted to babysit and help pitch in, but you said that she didn't have to. She was often times home alone, so you would give her your phone and tell her to go out to the park and make friends. When you finally gave Craig your address and told him everything was fine, you received a couple boxes from the purple of South Park. There was one from Butters, containing many hand made feminine clothes for both you and Karen, along with a hoodie for each of you. Token sent money and frequently donated to your Kickstarter for your transition. Tricia had sent Karen a bunch of their pictures together, along with a friendship bracelet and get phone number. Craig has said that he wanted to send something, but he was busy trying to find a job and an apartment.

Eventually, though, he sent you a couple makeup kits.

It took about a year for you and Karen to move into an apartment and for you to legally change your name. Mackenzie McCormick took place of Kenneth. Karen started eighth grade not long ago, as well as participating in the local children's theatre. You keep in contact with most of your friends, mainly Butters and Craig. Craig apparently attending college to become a veterinarian, though works a side job currently. Butters, on the other hand, is a social worker. He's moving out of South Park and up to Washington next year, to be closer to his long distance girlfriend. 

Stan and Kyle got engaged, their wedding is in four months and you're invited. You're planning on going, especially since Karen is the flower girl. It doesn't seem like time has passed when the date comes around. You and Karen take a bus back to South Park for the first time in a year. You stay with Craig, who is quick to pick you up from the bus stop and take you two to his apartment. When Karen crashed, exhausted from the long day, it becomes apparent to you that life has not treated Craig well.

His apartment was small and crumbling. The mirror on the wall was cracked, splitting your features in two. You hadn't realized how long your hair has grown, no one had commented about it. Craig looked even worse, the blond roots peeking out from under his hat and dark circles under his eyes almost black. His dark blue eyes had paled into a more papery color, a gray-blue. You slipped off your hoodie, a long sleeve white dress on your body as you sat down beside Craig.

"Hey Space Boy, what's up?" You says nervously, trying to act as if nothing happened between you two, "Let me just . . . Get this straight, okay? I haven't seen you in so long but I don't want there to be any secrets between us anymore . . . Me leaving you without saying anything was bad, and I'm sor-"

"What else have you been hiding from me," he deadpanned, cutting you off.

You sigh, reaching out to grab his hand when he yanks it away. 

"It's not much, I promise . . . My biggest secret is that I can't die, which I'm certain you already know of because you've remembered some of my deaths. My second one would be having a crush on you since third grade, haha . . ." You tried to laugh it off, looking into a distance to hide the redness of your cheeks, "What about you? This won't be onesided, right?"

Craig hesitates, lifting up his head and gazing at you, his eyes piercing right through yours, "I'm a stripper, got disowned by my family last week, got straight up told by my doctor that he had given up on me, got diagnosed with derealization a month ago . . . Oh, and got beaten the shit out of for being gay."

He sighs, and you notice he's beginning to shake.

"They cut you off of your mood stabilizers, didn't they?" You questioned, grabbing his hand, he didn't pull away this time.

He nodded slowly, "I've been in a major disassociation episode for almost a week, my vision is seriously failing me and I'm scared to drive long distance. I'm realizing I'm slowly beginning to forget everything before fourth grade. I just . . ." Craig lets out a sigh once again, "I feel awful, Mackenzie, fucking awful. On top of that all, I have a wedding to attend tomorrow." 

You tilt your head to the side, "What's so bad about the wedding?"

The noirette snickers a bit, you can see you've lifted his mood, "This is going to sound stupid and childish, but I was always excited to get married. I told myself up until my graduation that I wouldn't have sex until I married, and that I would marry out of love. One of those two things didn't happen . . . Not to mention, now I'm thinking I'll never find the perfect guy, haha . . ."

Your heart breaks a little bit, knowing that Craig would never return your crush if he saw you as a woman. You aren't sure if you're happier knowing he sees you as a woman yet has no romantic interest in you, or if you'd be happier if he saw you as a man and gave you a chance.

"Craig, we're going to that wedding together, you won't be alone the time. Maybe, after this, you could come up to Denver with Karen and I, if you want . . . "

"I'd like that."

The room goes silent for a moment before you both stand up and he leads you to his room, where Karen is already sleeping, and says he'll take the couch.

You wave goodnight, as he whispered softly, "Hey Kenny, I knew you had a crush on me."

With that, the door closed and the apartment falls silent. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The next morning, you wore a yellow sunflower dress. Part of your back shows though the dress, giving everyone a glimpse of your angel wings tattooed on your back. Butters insisted on doing your hair, putting up in a bun and leaving out your bangs. He gave you the dress, too, said he wore it as Marjorine. 

You don't remember much of the wedding

​​​​You remember sitting next to Craig. He was spacing out, lost in the depths of his mind just like he was a year ago. His eyes wide, dark circles hidden with concealer. His deep blue eyes remained grayed out and faded as he stares directly at Kyle, though probably not thinking about the ginger.

"Earth to Space Boy, time to wake up," you mumble, but he doesn't move.

[tgon]

The Nightmare Room #8, Shadow Girl | Review

Title: The Nightmare Room #8 – Shadow Girl

Author: R.L. Stine

Cover Artist: Tristan Elwell

INTRODUCTION

Today's book is all about heroes.

Fictitious ones. Not to be confused with real ones like doctors or nurses.

At least that means you won't have to read a review of Gray's Anatomy. Although, by the end of things, you may wish you'd done that instead. This story retroactively makes me regret being nice to the last book.

STORY REVIEW

Protagonist Selena Miles has been sent away for a month to live with her aunt, uncle, and detestable cousin, Jada. The following story takes place in Chicago, which is distinct from other Nightmare Room locations in that it has CRIME. The city's characterization is a bit glib, so I'll add in some slick Chicago references to pick up the slack.

One of Jada's friends is mugged, and this makes Selena angrier than Mrs. O'Leary's cow. Jada pontificates on how cool it would be to become a superhero and how awesome it would be if superheroes were real and also SUPERHERO SUPERHERO SUPERHERO. We can rule out "subtlety" from the list of powers Jada is hiding.

The school colors at Elmwood Middle School are red and blue, but Jada tricks Selena into wearing yellow and green on her first day. The entire school boos Selena, making her feel sad, almost as sad as the lyrics to "Casimir Pulaski Day." Things only get worse when Selena goes back to her aunt and uncle's house. She finds a note from her mother saying that the two will never meet again and that Selena's entire life is a lie. Seems like a perfectly reasonable time to freak, but Selena decides to wait things out because she's still hung up about accidentally dressing like a Green Bay Packer, I guess. Selena takes the alarming note to her aunt. No joke, Aunt Janet explains away the note by saying Selena's mother must have been "moody" when she wrote it. Seems like a helluva mood swing! Selena tries calling her mother about six times throughout the book. It'd make sense in real life, but it's pretty boring to read.

Meanwhile, all throughout this book, Jada has been sneaking out at night, presumably shadow girling around or something. Selena investigates and discovers that Jada has been using a secret room hidden behind a bookshelf. Since she doesn't have parents anymore, Selena is undoubtably preparing for a Narnia-type adventure. Before investigating further, Selena enlists the help of one of Jada's friends, Stan. (I would've expected Jada to be friends with Giant Steps or even Take Five, but it's nice to know she's friends with some hip-hop tracks.) The duo gains access to the secret room by pulling on a lever hidden amongst the books, proving that knowledge really is power. Even the book I'm reading right now is powerful. It can open doors when wedged like a doorstop.

The kids find a cloak. There's also a mask with cat-like eyeholes. Stan guesses that it might be a "burglar costume," severely misunderstanding what a cat burglar is. That night, Selena decides to confront Jada to ask if she's involved in any Eyes Wide Shut situations, but Jada is gone. Kidnapped, evidently. Jada calls Selena and tells our protagonist to don the secret suit and come to the rescue. In the most shocking twist yet, our protagonist takes to the Chicago streets in costume. Using Jada's instructions, Selena actually finds the location. That's pretty good for a child who put on a strange costume "because my cousin said so."

Now, this is where the plot begins to really turn into a supernova: (1) Jada wasn't actually kidnapped. (2) She's wearing her own supersuit. (3) She's the "Red Raven." (4) Aunt Janet has superpowers but is retired. (5) According to the Book of Fates, Selena's destiny is to become a superhero named Shadow Girl. (6) There is a "Book of Fates." (7) The book says Selena's fate is to kill Jada. What a coincidence! Apparently, the book I'm reading is trying to kill me, too. Suddenly, I realize the several chapters about phone calls weren't so bad.

Selena uses her newfound powers to fly away. Good thing Chicago isn't known for being too windy. The book never really explains why Jada is so excited to fight Selena and probably die. At least Selena acknowledges that fighting her cousin to the death might be an unnecessary danger. Meanwhile, Selena notices some danger in town and decides to get involved. Selena's suit gives her super-strength, allowing her to save a boy from a group of bat-wielding goons. It's just Chicago, y'all, where there's a nightly brawl! ...And all that jazz!

Jada (possibly sensing all that jazz) finds and confronts Selena. She accosts Selena for not showing more enthusiasm about their death battle. In fact, Jada feels jealous. Not about the whole "getting to live" thing. Jada is jealous that she doesn't get to be Shadow Girl. The two begin fighting. Selena rips off Jada's amulet, the source of her power, killing Red Raven. A character died?! Man, this is totally di⁠ff—

Oh but the death was just a metaphor.

"Red Raven" may be dead, but ⁠(much like the Sear's Tower) Jada changes her identity. Now, she gets to be Shadow Girl.

You feel cheated. I feel cheated. Selena doesn't feel cheated because she gets to go home! I can appreciate a character whose struggle is trying to escape a lame story. Unfortunately, when she arrives, she finds her mother's supersuit and realizes that her life won't be going back to normal.

THE VERDICT

Shriek Home Chicago probably would've been more palatable.

BEST QUOTE(S)

Violence makes me sick. But I wanted to run over there and punch her face until it was red and blue too!

Ah yes, I believe that's a Gandhi quote.

"It's your costume, Selena," Jada said. "It has always been here, waiting for you."

THIS IS MY SUIT! IT WAS MADE FOR ME! ⁠— Junji Stino.

He picked up the computer mouse. "Now, where do you think you attach this?"

The most complicated piece of computer hardware that Stine can name is the mouse.

I stepped into Mom’s room and hurried over to the bed. [...] "You weren’t supposed to see that!" she cried. "I didn’t know you were coming home. I would have put it in its place." My heart pounding, I picked it up. A red cape. A pair of silky red tights. A sparkly black mask with diamond-shaped eye holes. "Mom? What is it?" I cried.

Mood swing! Mom's a stripper now.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

[writing-radionoises]

Noirette Of The Night

Craig Tucker. Correction, Craig Sapphire Tucker. A very open and bisexual stripper, former minor porn star, even. Truth be told, he'd do anything for money. And truth be told, he never bothered to correct anyone, because they were mostly right. His name is Craig Tucker, doing his normal shifts in the Peppermint Hippo in skin tight shorts and crop top. It was almost painful to move, but honestly, even staying in the place was painful. The loud, blaring of music made it almost impossible for anyone to hear each other. The flashing lights where painful to even glance at, it made his job even more difficult than it had to be. The disgusting feeling of men and women he didn't even know grabbing his body honestly made Craig want to vomit. And sometimes he did. Sometimes there would be times when he'd go back to his tiny, dark, and cold apartment, throw up in the bathtub, and cry while holding the tiny mammal named Stripe. Often times, Stripe was the only thing that kept Craig going. All his left over money from paying bills went to Stripe first, all that's left would be grocery money. Tonight was almost no different from any other. His shift ended at about midnight, and usually close to the end of his shift, he would take a smoke break outside. After that, come inside once again and order a drink, hang out with the other lonely drunks. He'd avoid going back to his apartment until morning. The only thing different about every other night was the people at the bar. Sometimes there were older guys, sometimes there were guys that looked a little too young to be in the club. Today, there was a short, blond male, sitting at the bar with a cup in his shaking hands. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Craig shrugged it off, leaning over the table to order a martini. This action was answered with any catcalls and whistles, along with a couple drunk chants of his "stage name," Sapphire. A martini glass was passed to the noirette, and he felt a light tap on his shoulder. A shiver went up Craig's spine as he looked up to answer, trying to see if he could recognize the person's face through the flashing lights. "Hey, Craig," said the rather soft, yet obviously drunk, masculine voice, "Can you do a favor for a friend of mine?" He recognized the other noirette as Stan Marsh, a somewhat regular at the club. Beside him was a, very clearly, sober ginger, clinging to Stan's arm like a shy girlfriend. Kyle, he thought to himself, that's the boy he rambles about constantly when I try and talk to him . . . "Sure thing, darling, whatcha need?" Craig replied, his tone much lighter than usual, the cutesy nickname too cliche for his taste, though it was all he could think of at the moment. Stan points to the nervous blond, to which Kyle slaps his hand down and whispers something rather aggressive to Stan, to which he shrugs. "Our friend, uhh . . ." The noirette drifted into thought before jumping back into his sentence once again, "Tweek. He never gets out, constantly nervous. . . . Show him a good time? I want him to enjoy himself," he says with a smile, his focus fading in and out. Tweek, Craig thought once again, his blue gaze wandering over to the shaking one once again, remember that. "Oh, sure, I don't see why not," he answered, sitting back up from leaning over the bar and grabbing his drink, than making his way over to the boy. Craig took a seat beside him, watching the other closely as he screamed something along the lines of "GAH," then falling silent once again.