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writingwithciara · 7 months

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He Never Will ~Jack Hughes~

summary: jack loves his best friend and only wants to protect her from the worlds shittiest boyfriend

word count: 3.6k

pairing: jack hughes x reader, reader x shitty boyfriend

notes: based off the song by alexander stewart (my birthday twin 💕). i've recently become obsessed with this song & haven't put anything out for jack yet so i figured i'd write this for him [TW: toxic relationship with abuse]

masterlist

jack was in love with his best friend. it was cliche and he knew it but he didn’t care. the only thing he cared about was making sure she didn’t find out.

her boyfriend could tell though. he saw the way jack looked at y/n & he hated hearing him talk about her to other people as if he was the one dating her.

it was like a game to hunter though. well, more of a test really.

he had suspicions that y/n was into jack so every once in a while, he would pick a fight with her just to see if she ran crying to jack. and most of the time, she did.

when she didn’t run to her best friend, she would run to his brother or the captain of his hockey team. but to hunter, it didn't matter who she ran to. The point was that she ran to another guy and he didn't like it.

but she always went back to him, no matter how bad he treated her and jack hated that. he knew she deserved better and he wanted to be the one she chose. jack wanted her to stay on one of the many nights she ran to him.

but she never did.

if he don't know what he's got now, he never will

it was the night before jack was supposed to head up to toronto for the all-star game when y/n came back to his place.

the tears were pouring down her face as jack let her into his apartment without a word. he could never bring himself to say i told you so, especially not when she was in such a vulnerable state.

a few minutes of silence passed as they sat on the end of his bed before jack spoke up.

"so what happened tonight?"

"i don't even really know. i got home from work and he was in the middle of trashing my apartment. he said something about me not being faithful to him, which is total bullshit. and i know we have our fights and shit on a daily basis, and that's alright. but tonight felt different. like if i had stayed any longer, maybe he would've hit me or something."

jack looked at her face for any sign of a mark, fearing that she may have been hiding something from him. but there was nothing so he let it slide.

"i'm gonna take you home and i want you to pack a bag as quickly as you possibly can."

"why?" she wiped her eyes and looked at jack.

"you're coming with me to toronto."

"are you nuts? that's only going to make this worse, jack."

"i'm going to be gone for a week and there's no way in hell that i'm leaving you alone with him for that long with no guarantee of safety."

"i'll still have nico. and luke even."

"please just do this for me? i'm worried about leaving you with hunter. i swear the kid's just begging to get his ass beat."

"jack, if i promise to go with you to toronto, will you promise to try to get along with hunter when we get back?"

"y/n, i've already tried. he's a lost cause honestly."

"can we not have this conversation again? i'm tired of hearing it." y/n sighed with frustration and stood up. she began to pace around jack's room.

"until you see how much better you are than hunter, i'm gonna keep bringing it up. and the fact that you've heard it more than once should be enough to tell you something!" jack raised his voice but regretted it immediately when y/n started to cry. "please just listen to me okay? look, i care about you and i only want what's best for you. i'm not trying to make you feel bad or anything. i'm sorry if i upset you." jack pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back as she sobbed.

y/n cried for a good 10 minutes before she finally spoke again.

"i'm not upset with you, jack. i could never be. i'm upset with myself because i know i shouldn't be with someone like hunter but i love him so much and i can't just walk away from that." she looked up at jack and smiled when he wiped her tears away. "please don't hate me for staying with him."

"i could never ever hate you. i hope you know that." he rubbed her back soothingly. "and although i don't support you staying with him, i'm always here if you need me and i'm never ever leaving your side, okay?"

"okay." y/n nodded with a shy smile.

"so, will you please come to toronto with me?"

jack and y/n ended up meeting up with luke and nico before the boys took y/n back o her apartment to get her stuff. luckily for them, hunter was nowhere to be found.

y/n packed a bag quickly and left a little note for hunter. jack didn't agree with that idea, fearing hunter would come find her and do something terrible. but luke and nico assured him that y/n would be safe with them while at the game.

the 4 of them got in the car and were on the plane in no time. y/n took the window seat and jack sat next to her.

"what's going on in your mind?"

"part of me just...i don't know...i feel a little bad for hunter. maybe he's only like this because he didn't get a whole lot of positive attention growing up."

"don't feel bad for that piece of shit, y/n. he doesn't deserve you. and his lack of positive attention is no excuse for the way he treats you. i really hope you understand that someday." jack sighed and changed the topic.

for the rest of the flight, nico did most of the talking while luke did everything he could to keep a smile on y/n's face, even if it was only a small one. he accepted it either way.

when they got to the hotel they were staying at, the lady at the front desk gave them 2 keys. jack handed one to y/n and the group went up to their rooms. y/n wasn't a fan of being alone but at least the boys were just next door if she needed them.

the first night in toronto was not great. y/n woke up from a nightmare screaming and she couldn't bring herself to stop crying. jack heard her scream and was in her room in seconds. his heart broke when he saw the state she was in so he stayed with her for the next two nights.

on draft day, y/n was sitting with nico and luke as they watched the event unfold. she excused herself to use the bathroom and while she was gone, her phone buzzed in her seat.

it was a series of texts from hunter. nico and luke took it upon themselves to respond.

the two boys shared a look before y/n returned. she noticed their weird behavior and raised an eyebrow.

"you weirdos doing alright?"

"yeah. never better." nico lied and turned his attention back to the draft.

"hunter texted you while you were in the bathroom and we answered him."

"luke!" nico shot his teammate a look before looking over at y/n beside him.

"what did you guys do that for?" y/n opened her phone and went through the messages. "i could've handled it, you guys."

"we're all tired of him treating you like you mean nothing to him. that's not how you deserve to be treated." luke sighed.

"we're sorry, y/n." nico sighed. "we just love you so much."

"i'm not sorry."

"luke!" nico shot him another glare and rolled his eyes.

"i'm sorry, okay? but it had to be said. y/n deserves better than what she has and if you guys want to tell me different, then go right ahead. but we all know the truth." luke sighed. y/n placed her hand on his shoulder and hugged him.

"i know you guys are looking out for me, and i love you for it. so much." y/n looked over at nico. "can you guys let jack know that i'm gonna head back to new jersey before hunter gets here? i need to go pack my stuff."

"are you leaving him?"

"yeah." she stood up and sighed. "i don't know where i'm gonna go though."

"crash at jack's. you know he won't mind."

"yeah because he's in love with her." luke chuckled, earning another glare and a wide-eyed expression from y/n.

"that's supposed to be a secret, luke."

"oh, my bad. i thought she knew."

"that's a conversation for another day. i got something to focus on right now. but i won't forget you told me." y/n kissed luke's head and gave nico a hug before heading back to the hotel to pack. she left a note for jack because she knew the boys would forget to tell him.

when everything was done, y/n found herself back on the plane to new jersey.

the flight wasn't long but it gave her some time to think about what luke told her. she was shocke but everything was hitting her all at once.

had jack always felt this way?

when the plane landed, y/n got in the first cab she could find and headed to her apartment. as the car approached the building, y/n was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread. she didn't want to end up running into hunter on the off chance he hadn't actually gone to toronto.

she slowly unlocked the front door and made her way inside. when there was no sign of hunter, y/n let out a sigh of relief before making her way to the bedroom.

she grabbed her suitcase and started throwing all her clothes into it. unfortunately, she only made it through half her clothes before she heard the door open and close. she tried to hide the fact that she was leaving but hunter entered the room before she could do anything.

"why would you feel the need to lie about where you were going?"

"you wouldn't have let me go support my best friends, hunter. i had no other choice. lying was my only option. plus i needed a damn break."

"what could you have possibly needed a break from?"

"from you. you're constantly keeping track of my whereabouts and you won't let me spend any time with my friends. the only time i get to see jack is whenever you start some pointless argument and drive me away for a night. it's getting to the point where i need to put my own mental health above everything."

"what the fuck are you trying to say?"

"i'm leaving, hunter. this is too much." y/n went to grab her bag but hunter gripped her wrist firmly.

"you're not going anywhere."

"let me go!"

"you're not going anywhere." he repeated, this time with emphasis on each word.

"i swear to god, if you don't let me go, i'll-"

"you'll what? call jack to come rescue you like always? well you can't. he's in toronto and i-"

at this point, y/n was tired of him and his comments about jack. she reached for the nearest object and swung it at his arm. hunter released his grip on her and before he could grab her again, she grabbed her suitcase and used it to keep some distance between them.

"i'll be back for my other stuff later."

"whatever, bitch."

y/n rolled her eyes and hurried out of the apartment. when she got in her car, she broke down and facetimed jack.

he picked up with a smile but it disappeared when he saw her tears.

"what happened? why did you go back to jersey?"

"i thought hunter was gonna be in toronto...and i figured i'd take that opportunity to come home and pack my stuff & leave the apartment. but he came home and...." y/n began to sob harder. "he hurt me, jack. hs grabbed my arm and it hurts so much. i don't know why i'm calling you when there's nothing you can do about it now."

"bullshit. i'm getting on the next flight home and i'm going to kick that douchebag's ass."

"jack, you're a captain of an all star team. you can't leave. quinn needs you there."

"but you need me there more." jack moved around the hotel room to pack his bag. "besides, quinn has elias and if he really needs another hughes, luke is here too. plus, i can't even compete in the all-star game so there's really no point in me being here."

"but this is important to you, jack."

"y/n, you are more important than any hockey game, all-star or not. you are my best friend and i'm going to be there for you when you need me to be." he looked at his laptop. "i'll be home in about 5 hours, okay?"

"okay." y/n sniffled and wiped her eyes. "is it alright if i-"

"of course you can stay with me. you don't even have to ask." jack smiled softly at the girl on his screen. "want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"please? i mean, if you don't mind." y/n propped her phone in the holder and began driving to jack's apartment.

"anything for you. you know that." jack kept y/n on the phone while he knocked on luke and nico's door. luke answered and smiled at his brother.

"hey. what's up?"

"i'm heading home. y/n needs me."

"just how in love with her are you?" luke smirked, not even realizing that y/n's face was on jack's screen and she could hear everything.

"dude, she's on the phone." jack's eyes darted down to his phone and back to luke's, whose eyes only widened when he realized.

"cat's out of the bag. oops." luke went to shut the door. "good luck, jack."

luke shut the door completely and jack looked back at his phone.

"for the record, luke is an idiot and i wouldn't listen to anything he says ever."

"never do." y/n smiled. jack returned the smile and couldn't help but stare at her as he headed down to the lobby to hail a cab.

"i won't be able to talk to you while i'm on the flight but i'll call you when i land, okay?"

"okay." y/n pulled into the parking lot of jack's building and got out. as she made her way into the apartment, part of her felt relieved. it felt like she was home.

"alright. the flight is boarding but i'll make sure to call you when i land. help yourself to anything in the apartment. there's some bath bombs and bubble bath at the back of my closet in case you want to take a nice, relaxing bath."

"thanks again, jack. for everything. i really appreciate you. have a safe flight."

"i will. love you."

"love you too." y/n smiled and hung up. she made her way into jack's room and pulled the bath stuff out from his closet. she ran the water for her bath and put on some calming music while also lighting a few candles. she put the cotton candy bath bomb in the water and when it was filled, she got in.

she hadn't even been paying attention to the time when jack got home. he stumbled in through the door with a busted lip and a shiny black eye.

"jesus christ. what the hell happened to you?"

"i'm sorry. i know you don't like it when i get violent off the ice, but i had to stop at hunter's before i came home. he hurt you so i hurt him. tit for tat i guess."

"how bad did you hurt him?"

"pretty bad. he's like 10 times worse than me right now."

"you didn't have to do that for me, jack." y/n looked at the cut on his lip. "now let's go clean up your lip and see if we can do something about that eye." y/n grabbed his hand and brought him to the bathroom. she sat him on the edge of the tub and grabbed a rag from the bin, running it under some warm water.

jack watched her every move intently, afraid that if he looked away, she would fade into a memory.

y/n wiped the dried blood from his face and started looking through her own bag for something to heal the black eye faster.

"you know, i don't hate it when you get violent off the ice, especially when it's to defend me. kinda think it's hot that you would put yourself in the way of violence if you're protecting me." she applied a cream to his left eye and placed a gentle kiss just below the bruise. when she pulled away from his face, she made eye contact with him. "i love you but can you please stop getting into fights?"

"thought you found it hot when i did." jack smirked.

"i do. but i also don't like seeing you get hurt." y/n ran her hands through his hair slowly while his hands held her waist. he tugged her closer and hugged her tightly.

"you're truly a blessing and i hate that hunter could never realize what he had."

"hopefully he realizes what he had now that he's lost it."

"you would never go back to him again, would you?" jack moved his had from his resting spot on her stomach and looked up at her.

"and leave you? no chance in hell will that ever happen." y/n knelt down to be at eye level with him.

there was something about the way he was looking at her that made her feel like they were alone in the world.

jack looked at her and he swore his heart began to beat faster. her gaze was focused on his lips and she tried to look away but she couldn't.

when jack's thumb reached up to draw delicate circles on her cheek, she knew she was screwed.

for years she was telling herself that she didn't have feelings for jack but here they were now, in the bathroom, sharing an intimate moment.

the feelings hit her hard and before she knew it, she was pulling jack in for a gentle kiss. when she tried to pull away, jack held her cheeks and poured everything into the kiss.

by the time the kiss ended, they were both out of breath and their faces were red. jack had a playful smirk on his face as he admired y/n's features.

"you are so incredibly beautiful, y/n. can't believe hunter would treat you so badly."

"how about we stop talking about that asshole & instead focus on this?" she gestured between them and smirked. "i love you and i'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

"i'm sorry i never told you how i felt." jack continued to hold onto her face while y/n held his arms. "in case it's not obvious now, i do actually love you. but how could i not? i mean you are the most incredible human being & definitely the most precious person i've ever known. you are perfect in every way and i will spend the rest of my life showing you how you deserve to be loved. i-if that's alright with you."

"you are all i want and all i need jack. forever and always, since forever." she wrapped her pinky around his and smiled. a simple gesture that's been part of their lives since they were 9 but they loved it because it meant more to them than anyone could ever know.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #nhl x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #new jersey devils #jh86

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makethosenarratorsfight · 1 year

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UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SEMI FINALS

*NOTE; propaganda is out of order due to the post length!

Eugenides Propaganda:

the entire plot hinges on a detail he lets the reader (and every other character) assume is true. I don't want to spoil it because it's a really fun reveal but he is lying from the first second he appears on the page and you can't trust him to tell the full truth about ANYTHING related to himself and his goals. he mostly does it to keep his advantage and not have other characters be suspicious of him but it's just so fun when you realise he's been lying the whole time

Kim Dokja Propaganda:

I haven't read orv but he's fucking gotta be from what I've osmosised

He tries to remove his emotions out of the narrative soooo much, literally the most repressed guy ever. Okay so for context orv is about how this guy, Kim Dokja, has been the only reader of an obscure post-apocalyptic webnovel for years and the novel suddenly becomes reality. And at first you'll probably get the weird impression that his behavior is pretty strange for, you know, a literal apocalypse happening in his world - like yes, he is concerned with survival but he doesn't seem all that scared and he kinda treats it like a video game where he has to grind to make himself stronger and he also treats his companions like a party in an rpg. Then there's also the way he approaches the protagonist of the webnovel, from the start he just kind of describes him as a ruthless psychopath and jerk that is unfortunately a pretty useful ally. And also there's the fact that he carefully omits any mention of his past and when somebody asks if he's worried about his family when the apocalypse starts he just kinda... brushes it off? Anyway so yeah, this bastard is definitely traumatized, although I don't know how much of spoiler territory that would be, considering the fact that literally when he first reveals his trauma he's also unreliable about it. And turns out he does indeed, care A LOT about this world and the people around him. Because well, he kinda didn't care to mention that this webnovel that has become reality was like... literally his whole world before it literally became his whole world. Like, it was the only thing keeping him going for 10+ years and the protagonist that he likes to call a stupid jerk was his comfort character who he pretended to be when he felt like he couldn't handle something in his life by being himself. The protagonist is also canonically the person he loves the most according to a prophecy and he literally can't fathom the thought of him dying, even the timeline versions of him that directly oppose him. And I haven't even mentioned the Fourth Wall yet but I feel like this propaganda is a little long already

misreading the intentions of his companion (yoo joonghyuk) so many time.

YOU DON'T UNDERSTANDDD DOKJA IS SUCH A UNRELIABLE NARRATORRRRRR GOD I COULD WRITE AN ESSAY BUT I KNOW YOU LOVE DOKJA TOO BUT OMG HE'S JUST SO AAAAAAAAAAAH

Rest of Propaganda under cut!

he is the worst like actually. he starts the story talking about how normal and average he is. he is not. he is constantly mischaracterizing his friends and he's so good at lying to the readers that you don't even realize it at first. almost every single time he cries we have to be told by other characters because he never says it himself. there is literally a scene where his narration says "i wasn't crying" and then the in-universe entity that narrates the actions of people (orv is really weird and meta) says that he was, in fact, crying. honestly genuinely anything he says about himself (or doesn't say) cannot be trusted. he is just so frustrating. he drives me mad. i love him dearly. but he drives me so mad.

Dictionary definition of unreliable narrator. Does not tell the reader anything and then things happen and he's like oh yeah btw there was also this and this earlier but i just didn't feel like mentioning it. There's even a thing called the "Fourth Wall" that is able to see through kdj's bs so occasionally you get gems like,

Kim Dokja: I didn't cry

The Fourth Wall: [Kim Dokja was crying]

Imagine being so unreliable as a narrator you need a more powerful narrator to call out the actual narrator.

^ same submission, just spacing it out

This goes into spoiler territory, but; Kim Dokja is in possession of a skill called the Fourth Wall, which on the surface seems like it appears because he read the book that reverse-isekai’d into his own. However, as the story goes on it becomes clear that it’s pretty much a souped up version of his pre-existing dissociation. You cannot trust him to be honest about his feelings, his past traumas or his feelings about his past traumas, not to mention his tendency to just outright omit information that only gets revealed later on either when it becomes relevant or when an outsider POV reveals what’s actually happening.

Exhibit A: he says (in 1st person POV) that he’s not crying. The Fourth Wall immediately contradicts this (as it is literally words of the novel) by saying (in 3rd person POV) ‘Kim Dokja was crying’.

Exhibit B: Fails to mention entire actions when it shows him emotionally honest even in the slightest; we had to read from another character entirely when Kim Dokja was being physically affectionate with his companion. It’s so bad that there’s this entire paragraph about Kim Dokja describing himself hiding his eyes in his hands in jerky, weirdly specific detail and just AVOIDING EVERY WORD THAT MIGHT SHOW HE’S CRYING. The brilliance of ORV is that when you re-read the entire thing you get hints that ‘yes, this WAS hinted at the entire time’ but you have to dig it out of Kim Dokja’s repressed, depressed self-hating internal dialogue with your own two hands.

^ same submission, spacing it out (i really should've done this earlier.)

i am a simple man (not a man). i see a tumblr text post with the words “unreliable narrator in it”. i read nothing else. i reblog & tag #kim dokja okay but in all seriousness i’m just going with the musty basic example: so there’s this moment where he sacrifices himself to save this guy. as he lays on the ground bleeding out, he says “hey, you don’t like me, right? you should kill me to get some money” the guy says “no kim dokja i cant do that (going through the five stages of grief except there’s only one and it’s anger)” the constellations (twitch viewers irl) are like omg he (the guy) doesn’t want to kill his companion (kim dokja) and shower him (the guy) with money kim dokja: oh, he’s not killing me for the money. smart!

as i quote a brilliant youtube video (all of omniscient reader’s viewpoint in 6 minutes) “yoo joonghyuk sees kim dokja as a c_____”

yoo joonghyuk: companion

kim dokja: cunt

^ same submission, once again. spacing it out.

Hides his true feelings, tells the readers what he thinks is convenient for the plot and that his own personal feelings don’t matter or are not so significant. Has unreliable thoughts abt his companion and is a liar. And is also an omniscient reader.

Kim Dokja always perceived his companions in this like nonchalant way like “oh yeah we get along but really we’re just fighting to survive (apocalypse setting) it doesn’t run that deep” when they all do genuinely care for him and he does in turn. He just, doesn’t think of it as an equal relationship? Dokja’ll sacrifice a lot for them but will get seriously flabbergasted if they do the same thing, so fricking problematic. Not to mention Yoo Joonghyuk, his “Life and Death Companion” (read: husband). Kim Dokja always seems to think that Joonghyuk has it out for him, which is kinda true, but he is literally blind to the fact that he’s attached to him. Like, it’s so obvious??? Also they have hella sexual tension but that’s another thing entirely

se get some many pov changes where kdj in his pov just assumed things based on what he knew the characters would do. however because of his interference the characters have changed and he wouldn’t know that if it hit him in the face

He's an unreliable narrator because he lies to himself and thus the audience. He literally rewrote his own childhood core memory. If someone says, "this guy is my friend!" He will go through so many hoola hoops in his mind just to rationalize it. Because he fundamentally believe that no one could love him and even if they did they couldn't know him and he's just gonna hurt them. He cries sometimes in canon but a lot of those times it's not even mentioned as crying he's that unreliable of a narrator. No joke, one time this guys he has a gay thing with called him his "companion" to someone who had just killed him (long story) and this bitch thought "oh wow he's doing it for the coins (another long story) he's so smart i wish I'd thought to that. He's terrible. He literally has an exchange with something called the Fourth Wall (an even longer story) where it said "you're crying" and he said "no I'm not" but he was crying. He makes me insane because the reader is supposed to project onto him. He made me see how much of an unreliable narrator I WAS. ORV is just like that tho.

#kim dokja #kdj #orv #omniscient readers viewpoint #once again #if kdj gets this poll blacklisted again im blowing him up #eugenides #the queens thief #queens thief #unreliable narrators battle #unreliable narrators #polls #semi finals

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ablatheringblatherskite · 8 months

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SORRY IM LATE TY FOR THE TAGS @lady-merian and @tsfennec!!

Are you named after anyone?:

my second name is from my late grandma!

When was the last time you cried?:

Two nights ago?

Do you have any kids?:

Nope! Haven't even had a romantic relationship yet LMAO

What sports do you play/have you played?:

honestly none LOL, my parents didn't really let me play sports because I have a heart condition. But I sometimes shoot hoops with my siblings, and I bike

Do you use sarcasm?:

Yeah, but honestly not as much as I'd like LOL. I tend to be more sarcastic when I'm annoyed tho

What is the first thing you notice about people?:

Their vibes?? I don't know how to explain it LOL, but like just the vibes they give off and whether I think we'd get along or not LOL

What's your eye color?:

Really dark brown! You need to see it in sunlight to really see how it looks though

Scary movies or happy endings?:

Scary movies are fun, but I'm gonna have to go with happy endings! And not just because they make me feel happy lol. I just have a deeper, more nuanced love for happy endings while scary movies are just for fun

Any talents?:

I mean, I think I'm decently musically gifted (and the only reason I know this is because I've never really had any lessons LOL). But I definitely think there's an experience aspect to it. I'd also like to believe I have some talent in writing and photography, although I'm more confident in saying that they're skills I have instead 🤣

Where were you born?:

Somewhere in a hospital in the Philippines

What are your hobbies?:

Writing, reading, photography, doodling, lettering

Do you have any pets?:

We have the family dog, a dachsund named Lila!

How tall are you?:

Short. Most adults are taller than me 😭

Favorite subject in school?:

English and literature

Dream job?:

Maybe a barista LOL, ooh or a candymaker for those hard candies. A baker might be fun too, or a teacher. A florist is starting to sound fun too! I don't think I can be a writer mainly sadly, but I want a job where I'd have time to do that still.

No pressure tags!!!: @dont-do-rice-babes, @choasuqeen, @kenandeliza, @offendedteaspoon, @rose-red-ink @youjustfeelthemforever, @rainintheevening, @nerdywriter36, @brendadaaedestler, @ladyphlogiston, @darling-gemini, @the-laurenceboy, @theragamuffininitiative, @rumpletrumple, @madlybattymontague, @its-a-hare-pom-pom

#tag games

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mydarlingbat · 5 months

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THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN BATMAN ROGUES AND THE JOKER.

Let's get down to business. I mean yes! I can talk about how long it took me to hunt down comics, but I rather skip all of that. It's not really irrelevant, although can I just say I adore this relationship. I might sound a little insane right now, but their relationship is just full of so many things at once. i can't even break it down right now, especially now. however this is going to focus on Batman and his other rogues unfortunately. I just want to announce and of course elaborate that I don't dislike any ships I'm about to mention. It's just to demonstrate the difference, in addition to that i do believe that mostly all of Batman villains has a level of like for the dark Knight. Maybe not romantically I suppose, but even perhaps so. Now sadly i can't post every villain on one freaking post, but I only can do one at a time. * Cries * nah, I'm just joking, but we are going to get a lovely display of both of their relationships. I will of course start off with theses panels.

He leaves Riddler to die more than once?

Riddler desires a sort of relationship with the Batman, but he yearns it to align with Batman and Joker relationship, and that will never ever happen. I honestly can't ship Riddler and Batman. Batman treats riddler horribly and he's very hostile towards him the majority of the time, which makes the ship unlikable for me, however I don't have any issue with anyone who ships Batman with the Riddler. They're not terrible. In the meantime let's chat about theses panels. Batman leaves the Riddler tied up in a warehouse in a chair? Now don't get me wrong, he does leave a knife near him, but he shows absolute no remorse or any kind of concern for him. He even goes on to say 'partner' sarcastically. Batman has repeatedly demanded The riddler to not call him partner or friend, while the Joker has repeatedly called Batman friend and partner. This is just one example.

Batman has never said don't call me partner to the Joker. He said don't call me bats, but partner? I haven't seen it yet, and let's not jump over the fact when you scroll up a little, Batman helps a tied up Joker. He helps a helplessly Joker. He goes down to see if a bloody half dead Joker is alive, and there's concern present. Not the ' are you okay ' Not the simple Riddler ' where's the sadness at Bruce? By the way this isn't Edward. He just thought it was at first.

Batman doesn't enjoy The Ridder like the Joker? You know someone ask me this before, and I honestly didn't even really desire to give them an answer. I didn't want to ruin their ship, but no he does not in fact enjoy his time with The riddler like he does with The Joker. How i can prove that? It's easy.

Batman is really over here saying. You missed me Joker? Bruce how gayer can you get. Haha! Now Riddler is practically begging for the dark Knight attention over here. I mean Batman doesn't even want to look at him, or acknowledge him. He just wishes this to be over with as soon as possible in this panel. Here's another example.

Anything except him. God the way Bruce constantly yearns to disappear away from the Riddler, while he's here with the Joker smiling.

Batman doesn't deny his dance with the Joker. He acknowledges it all the times, and even goes as far as to say I'm not in the mood. He doesn't tell the Joker to hire someone else to dance with, but he always dances with the Joker. Even if you say that Batman thought Riddler was going to die that night, but even Bruce wasn't an hundred percent sure if he would survive the bullet to his heart. The Riddler did wound up making it after all, so Batman was wrong about his calculations in the issue Batman #25 Jokes and riddles. When the Joker was dying on the Batman who laughs what did Batman do? He bought him back to life. He claimed he did it so the Joker could help him defect the Batman who laughs, but his own words demonstrated that that was not the reason. He told the Joker in these exact words 'you'll be safe here' This is why he bought him back because he didn't want him to live without his greatest foe. The Batman has let three people meet their demise to get to the Joker. It's not me trying make Batman into this heartless person, but this isn't the only incident that Batman has done this. What you all don't understand is that Batman doesn't have excuse for the Joker. He make a excuses. He like the Joker being alive. He goes out of his way to save him, and let's be honest the Joker was stabbed in the heart there was a huge chance the Joker wasn't going to make it in Batman cacophony #3, but he still let the killer go, and go saves the Joker. The point of this is to prove that Batman goes out his way to save the Joker, and go out his way to dance with him. Here's a reminder of that relationship.

This isn't finish yet. We need more proof right? I'm going to be talking about Batman confidential #27 and #28 which riddler makes appearance in.

#batjokes #batman and joker #batman #batman x joker #comic books #comics #the joker #dc comics #dcedit #batmm #The riddler #theories

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generalkenobee · 1 year

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Ted Theodore Logan Headcannons

This story contains NSFW headcannons and SFW headcannons

• The first time he sees you literal heart eyes-

•I mean you guys don't even have to be dating for him to not talk to other girls

•he thinks that it's disrespectful to even look at other girls now that you've officially introduced yourself to him

•talks about you all the time, to Bill, his dad, even Deacon

• literally looks at you like you're a fallen angel

• attached at. The. Hip. He never leaves you alone

•he'll walk you to every single one of your classes

•shares everything with you! He brought some gum to school? he brought 3 pieces (you, him, and Bill)

•he let's you pick his outfits when you ask

•compliments!!!

•you guys share clothes. Not in the way where he gives you his coats. I mean he'll take your socks 😭

•genuinely loves listening to you talk, he'll sit there for hours just staring while you talk about how practice is going or rehearsal, or just your day? He's all for it and ready to hear about it

•matching outfits...

•so many photos of you in his room...all over his bookshelf, his desk, even in his drawers

•he truly thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen

•I think he's low-key self conscious about not being very smart or good at sports, he thinks you can do better

•kisses no matter what, you haven't brushed your teeth yet? No problem, chapped lips? Ted literally could not care less, you could spit in his mouth and he'd be happy

•takes any kind of affection he can get

•I just know he gives the best hugs ever

•Tells Bill ALL about you

•doesn't pay attention in any classes except for health because he wants to learn about menstruation because you're always complaining about your 'period' so he wanted to know what it was (he got a c+ in heath and you were insanely proud of him)

•your parents don't like him because he's 'stupid' and you could 'do better', so he sneaks into your room almost every night

•has cried to you about his dad and how pressured he feels before

-NSFW-

•ok so I know not a lot of people will argue but like, hasn't even thought about actually having sex till you guys get together

•so so so thankful when you give him any sort of pleasure

•honestly submissive

•will finger you for hours on end

•doesn't like public sex, he doesn't want to do anything that could result in you being uncomfortable or exposed because he wants to be the only person to see you like that

•loves when you pull his hair

•giving you pleasure gives him pleasure

•came in his pants one time while eating you out

•the first sexual experience you had together was in his bed with you jerking him off and he finished in under a minute

•eye contact!!!!

•the first time you ever came around his cock he went absolutely fucking farel

If you have any ideas about Ted please share because I have lots more to say!!💕

#x reader #ted logan x reader #ted logan x y/n #ted theodore logan #bill and teds excellent adventure #bill and teds bogus journey #ted logan #ted theodore logan smut #ted theodore logan x reader #keanu my beloved #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves smut #keanu reeves #i love keanu #generalkenobee

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mixsethaddams · 2 years

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Throwing my hat into the latest trend of Shovel Talk posts. tw reference to past child abuse (not detailed)

Eddie gets the shovel talk from no less than five people.

Dustin, Robin, Erica, Max and Lucas. (Those two came as a pair, as they so often did since the Vecnapocolypse) Actually, technically six, if you count the fact that Dustin kept saying And Will Said...

They all say in and around the same thing. Steve deserves the world, he's been the babysitter for longer than Eddie's been the DM, blah blah blah. Honestly, Eddie's getting a little tired of people assuming he'll hurt Steve and leave him heartbroken. By the time he closed the door after saying goodbye on the final He Means More To Us Than You Do conversation, he was left in no doubt that the kids expected him to fuck up royally and they would not hesitate to choose Steve when (not if, as far as they were concerned) it happened. They would never forgive him. It was good to know where he stood, he guessed.

What Eddie didn't know, was that Steve was getting a few shovel talks of his own.

Wayne was first, obviously. Steve wasn't surprised to be pulled aside at the Byers/Hopper barbecue to listen to some very unsubtle threats about what might happen to him if Eddie came home with so much as a pout Even One Time, Boy, You Hear Me?

More surprising, was Joyce.

Joyce came by one night under the pretence of bringing by some leftover lasagne. Steve offered her a tea and they sat in the kitchen together while she asked polite questions about how things with Eddie were going. When Steve was done telling her all about the constant butterflies in his stomach, she clasped his hand gently across the table.

"I'm happy for you sweetie, I am,"

"Thanks Joy–"

"But you need to understand that Eddie is a fragile boy, and he needs real love, Steve. He's not the type to be happy with a, what do you call it, a fling? He's not the type for that,"

Steve was taken aback.

"This isn't a fling, Joyce,"

"Can you promise me that? I remember him from when he was just a kid and, god, well, I'd hate to see him hurt,"

Steve's mouth was open and closing like a fish, totally at a loss for words.

"Steve, can you promise me that? I know you're grown now and things are different, but I need you to say it for me,"

"I promise, I... I'm not who I used to be,"

Joyce patted his hand.

"Good boy. I better get home,"

And then there was Hopper.

Hopper knocked on the front door of the Harrington house early one Saturday morning, three sharp thuds on the door that made you think, Yup, Cops Are Here.

Steve answered still half asleep, barely aware he'd even pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

Hopper didn't accept the invite to come inside. He noticed Eddie's boots by the door.

"He here?"

"Uh, yeah, has been since yesterday, why? Did someone say he done something?"

"No, he's not who I'm here for,"

"What? I haven't done anything?"

"Good, and I expect you to keep it that way,"

Steve didn't know how to react. His eyes were still adjusting to the daylight and his brain hasn't quite woken up yet.

"Hop, I don't know what you're talking about,"

"El told me that you all know about the night he went to live with his uncle, says he told everyone the basics when Jon was worrying about turning out like Lonnie,"

"Yeah, he told me some more about it after too,"

"Figured he might,"

Steve shuffled from one foot to the other.

"I still don't know why you're here..."

"I was the one who carried him out of that house that night, Steve,"

"Oh,"

Oh indeed. Hopper's voice was gruff and low. Steve was actually nervous.

"I listened to him cry for hours. He couldn't breathe it was so bad. I never wanted to hear another child even speak after having to sit in the room while he told Wayne what went down,"

"I–"

"And I don't think I'll ever be able to sit right with the idea of that kid being sad again, because of someone else messing with him. I never forgot what he sounded like when he cried. Don't make me have to see him cry again, Steve. Do you understand me?"

Steve was stunned. All he could do was nod dumbly. There was no point offering any sort of defence, Hopper obviously wasn't here to listen. He was here to tell. Of all the people Steve might have thought would be on Team Munson, the former chief of police wasn't exactly top of the list. Eddie's distinct lack of criminal record through his teens might have been some indicator though.

Hopper gave Steve a curt nod and turned back down the driveway without another word.

He closed the door and leaned against the wood, letting out a low breath. Eddie appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes.

"Baby? Who was that?"

"Uh, Hopper..."

Eddie huffed a sleepy laugh.

"Hmm, shit, Law Man swing by to make sure I was behaving myself?"

Steve went to Eddie and pulled him into a tight hug, nuzzling into his hair. He really had no clue, did he?

"He was just checking in,"

Eddie hummed and went towards the kitchen to switch the coffee pot on. He had told Steve about the shovel talks he got from the kids earlier in the week. Trivial threats about leaving Hellfire and never helping him write a song again or going to one of his shows, taking back his Walkie privileges, things that seemed like the end of the world to a group of minors. Eddie had wistfully mentioned that Steve would never have to worry about being on the receiving end of something like that, he didn't think anyone really cared enough. Maybe You'll Get A Weird Look From Wayne, But I Think You're In The Clear, Golden Boy.

Eddie had no idea about the people that were looking out for him without him realising it. It made Steve's heart hurt. He'd half expected Robin and the others to have words with Eddie. It was almost a joke, he hadn't thought twice about it because he just kind of knew it would happen. He knew they cared, and he couldn't imagine how it would feel to be so sure that they didn't. That no one did.

Steve made a promise to himself then and there to never let Eddie feel like no one cared enough ever again, giving himself his very own version of the Don't Hurt Eddie Munson shovel talk.

It was the least Eddie deserved.

(Also posted to my ao3)

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #my writing #seth writes #shovel talks

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heygerald · 2 months

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Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 9

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

Read the story here: prev / next

Parker was dying.

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

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

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

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

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

How did one talk so much?

And more importantly—

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

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

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

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

"Doing—?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then why are you wasting it?"

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

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

Yeah, right.

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

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

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

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

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

"Could'a fooled me."

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

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

"I could!"

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

Still. She could at least pretend to be intimidated.

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

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

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

And—yeah.

Parker was definitely dying.

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

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

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

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

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

"I didn't say you suck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Melissa trailed after.

"All I'm saying is—" she started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Twice," Melissa added.

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

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

Melissa squared her shoulders at him. "Seriously."

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

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

"Uh, yes he does."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does—"

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

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

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

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

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

In unison, the pair gave cagey hmphs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

"Is that a crime?"

"A violent one."

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

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

"Coooolllltttttt," she whined.

He quirked his brow at her. "Seriously?"

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

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

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

That he understood.

The bastard.

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

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

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

She raised a brow at him, utterly unimpressed.

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

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

---

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

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

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

"It'll rip."

"It'll be fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's not a thing."

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

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

"It was a special."

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

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

"Are too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About what?"

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

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

"Because—you—he—the guy is an ass!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's that supposed to mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, yeah."

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

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

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

"For good reason."

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

It was a solid argument, they both knew that.

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

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

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

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

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

Which—fair.

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

He looked good.

He always looked good.

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

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

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

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

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

Pleased, she blinked back at Tom.

"What are you doing here?"

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

"I just finished my fittings."

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

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

Don't you dare, he said.

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

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

"With you two?"

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

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

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

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

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

"But—!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Not that many."

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

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

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

---

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

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

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

"This does taste good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Colt eats Mexican food," she argued.

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

"No, just the body."

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

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

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

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

Feeling better, Parker aimed for more neutral territory.

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

"He has?"

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

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

"What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Me? Never."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that they were dating.

Oh god.

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

Oh, god.

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

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

"Maybe."

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

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

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

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

"Can't you set a budget?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't—"

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

Her pleading did nothing.

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

"Jesus Christ, fine."

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

"That sounds disgusting."

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

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

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

But, no one noticed.

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

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

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hiddenlife-manager · 1 year

Text

Shigaraki x Chubby Fem Reader

cw... chubby reader, creampie, breeding, breasts, oral mention, degradation, pussy, cunt, breast sucking mention, milking, etc...

notepad... honestly haven't written an anime fanfiction in a while and after all gotta serve my orginal fans right hehe. Don't get me wrong I love soccer guys but my passion is fictional men.

Shigaraki was a slave to your body. Something about the curves caused him to suddenly ignore his rude and brash personality. Shigaraki found himself praising your body in his head while he spewed nothing but insults your way. Nothing about your curvy body; everything about how you are a mess for his cock only.

"Such a fucking slut." He spat out his words, laced with venom. He knew how much you loved being degraded. Even though Shigaraki hates others and would cross line to insult others, he knew where to stop.

"Ah- wait!" You blushed as you felt his gloved fingers pumping in and out of your cunt. Shigaraki spit onto your cunt, chuckling lowly. He loved your folds and the way your tummy existed, so he could rest his head on it when he wasn’t fucking you good. He pulled his fingers out of your glistening cunt. It was perfect puffy lips, ready to take his cock.

"Shut it, slut." He spewed out as he turned your body to its side and lifted your chubby leg over his slim body onto his shoulder. His cock was so hard, dripping pre-cum, ready to fuck your pussy, wanting to burry himself in your beautiful folds, your form that comforted the incel. His thighs wrapped around your other leg. Right then and there, with no warning, he shoved his leaking cock into your pussy. "Fuck…" He trailed off, moaning loudly.

He began to pull out slowly, then shoving himself in a harsh way, your skin slapping against his and his balls slapping against you. He needed to go fast; just the feeling of you taking him in almost made him cum inside your pussy. Holding your body gently, making sure one finger is lifted from each hand that holds you.

The position he was in made it so hard for him to pull out of your tight cunt. He loved the way you clenched on his cock, your legs shivering from each time he shoved himself into you. Moans leave your plump lips. His one hand trailed from your hip to your big breast. He loved how soft it was.

"Such a fucking slut, milking my cock, isn’t that right slut?" Shigaraki moaned; all you could let out were moans and cries as he continued to fuck you. You began to feel the knot in your lower body, your back arching, wanting him to fuck you faster, his cock hitting the right spot.

"Shiggy- fuck!" You let out breathlessly. He smirked, knowing he had your perfect body under his control, yet he himself was closer than you were. He struggled to hold back the impending orgasm he knew he was about to have. His hands could never do him justice, unlike your pussy which sucked him in and begged for his cum. Begging for him to fill you up and get you pregnant makes your already big breasts full of milky liquid that Shigaraki could drink.

With the very thought of his mouth sucking milk from your sore breast because he was fucking a baby in you, it made him cum in your walls. Shigaraki slumped with a high-pitched whimper, leaving him as he continued to thrust into your pussy that clenched on and off as you tried to get away from his thrust. Your orgasm was also washing over you suddenly.

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raelle-writing · 8 months

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DFF Theory: Non's brother is White

Warning that this post will contain spoilers for episode 6 of DFF, spoilers under the break

One of my biggest unanswered questions about DFF right now is: Who is New? And will he play a role in the series in the future?

We don't KNOW that New will have a role in the series, of course, but he's talked about a lot. he could just be there to identify Non as the lesser child while New is the golden child, and show why Non feels like he can't talk to his parent about his problems...

So, what do we know about New?

1. Based on the family photos shown in episode 5, we can see that New is EITHER a couple of years older or a couple of years younger than Non. Non is in 11th grade, so that would make New either around 19 or 15.

2. We know he's studying abroad and his family is sending him money. We don't know where, or what age he is. It's implied that he's older by the comparison, but it's never said specifically (unless there's an honorific that isn't being translated into English). We also know that New needs a lot of monetary support wherever he is abroad, since Non's mom talks about taking out an emergency loan to send him more money.

So then, IF we assume New is part of the show, who is he? I'm going to go ahead and say he's not Phee because we know Phee is the ❤️, wants to be Non's BF, and he's not abroad.

So who does that leave?

The three people I can think of are Tan, Perth, and White.

Perth might be the most likely because we haven't seen much of him yet, but he IS in the background of some of the casino scenes. And maybe it's possible that Perth plays New, and New is actually not a good kid and is in with a gang but has his whole family fooled, and the reason he keeps having to ask for money is because he's in debt or keeps losing it...

But I don't think that's likely, so that rules out Perth.

Next is Tan, who is probably the most obvious choice. But I don't think the timeline makes sense, considering New would be older or younger than Non and Tan is in the same grade as the other main characters. So unless he was able to fake his name, age, and schooling records it would've been impossible for him to transfer into their school in the same year as the rest. It is possible that he could pull that off, but Non's family is shown to not have money, so I don't know how he could've pulled off faking those records. So IMO, Tan is out.

The last option is White, which I will say, DOES fit the timeline. If Non's brother New is actually younger than him and brilliant, he could be studying abroad in an advanced program, and it might also explain why his family keeps needing to send him money since he wouldn't be able to get a job if he was that young.

White is the youngest of the group since he calls everyone there "Phi" and at the beginning, the friend group teases Tee about "tricking kids." White also shows a lot of capability in tense moments, and is the one who is the best with technology.

White acts scared and cries a lot when the others are around, but when left to his own devices he steals the tape, watches it, finds a gun and steals it. He's also the one who is good with technology. He mentions in the first episode that he'll work on boosting the signal of their walkie talkie, which isn't a simple thing to do. He's good with computers, probably too good for his age.

I think that of all the people who we've seen so far in the show, White is the most likely to be Non's brother. The comparisons are a misdirect, so we wouldn't suspect him. White has Tee (who is the person who has screwed Non over the most so far) wrapped around his little finger from the beginning. He plays up being cute and helpless until the exact moment he needs to be capable, then he's capable as hell.

I'm not sure that New is going to play a part in this series, honestly. But if he shows up, I think White is the person who fits the bill best.

#dead friend forever #DFF the series #DFF theory #white DFF #dead friend forever the series

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makethosenarratorsfight · 1 year

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UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE B

Hamlet Propaganda:

Have you seen the man. Is he clinically insane or just putting on an antic disposition. Is the ghost real

Kim Dokja Propaganda:

I haven't read orv but he's fucking gotta be from what I've osmosised

misreading the intentions of his companion (yoo joonghyuk) so many time.

YOU DON'T UNDERSTANDDD DOKJA IS SUCH A UNRELIABLE NARRATORRRRRR GOD I COULD WRITE AN ESSAY BUT I KNOW YOU LOVE DOKJA TOO BUT OMG HE'S JUST SO AAAAAAAAAAAH

Rest of Propaganda under cut!

Kim Dokja: I didn't cry

The Fourth Wall: [Kim Dokja was crying]

Imagine being so unreliable as a narrator you need a more powerful narrator to call out the actual narrator.

^ same submission, just spacing it out

^ same submission, spacing it out (i really should've done this earlier.)

as i quote a brilliant youtube video (all of omniscient reader’s viewpoint in 6 minutes) “yoo joonghyuk sees kim dokja as a c_____”

yoo joonghyuk: companion

kim dokja: cunt

^ same submission, once again. spacing it out.

#hamlet #shakespeare #hamlet prince of denmark #kim dokja #kdj #orv #omniscient readers viewpoint #if kdj gets this poll blacklisted again im blowing him up #unreliable narrator battle #unreliable narrators #polls #side b

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cherrychilli · 1 year

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18+

AFAB reader, P in V sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, outdoor sex, exhibitionism, slight blood play

A/N: Felt ✨inspired✨ by this poem.

"Normally I tend to choose my words carefully when it comes to such delicate matters. However, seeing you now, standing here in the moonlight, all I can think about is pulling your panties down and fucking you with your socks on" -- Michael Faudet

"You're insane"

"So you're saying you don't want to?"

"You're insane", you avoid the question like a dart aimed in your direction, repeating yourself with added emphasis.

Steve's smile turns cocky, hazel eyes lowering to rake over your body. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have come out here to meet me dressed in that", he points out, more than sure of himself.

Your lips purse. No comeback fighting its way through. No retort on the tip of your tongue. Nothing but the trill of unseen crickets and wind sweeping through leaves overhead to punctuate your silence.

Your moonlit skin must have turned transparent without you sensing it because he's seen right through you, effortlessly seeking out the stray thread that held your coy façade together. "Gonna come clean or are you gonna keep pretending?", and just like that, he unraveled you with a single smooth tug in the form of a wry smile.

The truth was you had lured him there into the woods behind your neighboring houses in your skirt and thigh high socks and a text that started with 'I miss you' and ended with 'come find me'. On the surface it all seemed innocent enough but he was right. You wanted him in places you shouldn't.

You wanted him in the front row of empty movie theaters, just you and Steve and a forgotten movie illuminating your tangled figures. You wanted him inside lonely train compartments going nowhere, nothing but the the sound of your hometown whipping by and breathless cries of each other's names filling the air.

You wanted him where bedsheets and locked doors couldn't conceal your ecstasy. Alone together in places where people weren't meant to be that way.

What you didn't want however, was for him to figure you out so easily. To realize so quickly that the crisp weather wasn't to blame each time you rubbed your thighs together and take smug pleasure in reading you so well.

Being thought of as predictable. It made you want to spit.

You shrink further, your uncharacteristic silence beckoning him closer, the corner of his lips tugging higher.

He's within your reach now - lured again only this time he doesn't know it.

You're going to bite those smirking lips bloody and enjoy kissing them better.

"You like knowing that it's kinda wrong, don't you? 'sthat what gets you so wet?"

Caged between Steve's arms, back against the trunk of an aging red maple, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt, you tip your chin up to run your tongue over his bottom lip and collect the blood that's beading there.

"I like being bad with you", you tell him honestly, swallowing the metallic tasting drop before pressing your lips to his, careful not to worsen the little tear you've made there. He hisses quietly when you part, the sting of your bite becoming more faint with each wash of your tongue and soft peck of your lips.

"My sweet girl...who would have known", he humors with the tone of someone whose known all along.

His fingers slip down to squeeze around the plush exposed skin between the tops of your thigh highs and the hem of your skirt, groaning at how soft and warm you felt in his cold, calloused hands.

"D'you like them?", you wanted to hear the obvious answer in the gruff of his lowered voice, pulse quickening when his fingers dip underneath your skirt. "Wanna take your panties off and show you how much", he finds the lacy waistband, hooking his fingers in and tugging them down.

Dead leaves and dry twigs crunch beneath you as you shift, balancing one hand on his shoulder while you shimmy your hips to help him slide the garment down your legs and over your shoes. You haven't told him yet how good he looks under the silvery moonlight, even when fresh blood bleeds through the split in his lip as he grins at the wet mess in your panties. You hold on to the thought like a secret, ready to threaten him with another bite when he brings the damp panties up to his nose, inhaling you deeply and stifling your almost warning.

"You're not getting these back", he informs you needlessly, tucking the pair into his back pocket for later. You suppose it's fair. A tradeoff for both wounding and underestimating him. "Fine", you utter indifferently but if he were to frame your face with his palms you're sure he'd feel you burning up under his stare.

You need to regain some control. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of having you beg too.

Reaching out, you pull him closer by the belt before he has a chance to reach under your skirt again. Steve makes an abrupt noise of surprise but makes no effort to stop you, watching you unbuckle it before popping open the button on his jeans. You lick at blood again as you work a hand underneath his boxers, clearing his lips of the crimson droplet when you grasp at his hot, stiff length.

"Fuck, you're beautiful", he breathes out, eyes trained on your face as you pull him free, thumb brushing over his silky, leaking tip. That playful arrogance he wore so brazenly only moments ago has drained from his features and you grin back wickedly in triumph. "You always get so sweet when you've got a hand on your cock?", you tease his almost immediate shift in demeanor, stroking a pretty whimper out of him.

He'd make himself into honey if it meant that you'd keep touching him like that - looking at him like you had your fingers held over his pulse, ready to push down and watch his eyes roll back whenever you pleased. He mirrors your earlier struggle, nothing smart or sharp on his tongue to lob back at you, surrendering to your touch with a thick gulp. You stroke him while his forehead presses against yours, the two of you exchanging the same shaky breath back and forth as your fingers grow tacky with precum.

"Stevie"

"Yeah?"

"Does it still hurt?"

It takes him a moment to realize what you mean, the sting in his lip having completely faded now.

"No- uh. No it doesn't hurt anymore", he croaks out his reply, cheeks all pink.

"Good".

And then there's a pause. It's hard to tell, even with how close you're pressed together but he swears the marrying of your brows and the little hitch in your breath means that you're working up the nerve to say something.

"Kiss me".

Something vulnerable flashes behind your sultry eyes. A plea underlying your soft command. Words grasping for some romance to undercut the blood.

And he gives it to you.

Wounded lips on yours, tongue delving into your mouth, a groan that makes your spine spark with fireworks. You feel like you're only burning brighter in the night.

You notice another bead of blood pulling to the surface of his pink lips but the chance to swipe at it with your tongue is stolen from you when Steve dips down to lick over your bottom lip, surprising you. "Got some on you", he says, thumb coming up to rub the remaining red tinge off of your mouth. "Leave it", you manage to stop him before he can wipe it away. "Please", you whisper but when you're this close together it hardly feels like one. You couldn't stand the thought of him erasing the bloodstain. Not when you wanted to wear it on you like rubies.

"Shit, really?", he holds your face in his palms, hazel eyes going wide with a mix of awe and exaltation.

"Yeah... I like it", you confess and suddenly he's reminded of your hand still wrapped around his twitching cock.

"Need to feel you", he breathes out urgently. "Turn around, baby please? gonna cum if you keep talking like that".

The need pervading your body feels so potent that if he were to ask, you'd get down in the dirt on your hands and knees and let him take you like that - rutting into you from behind with your cheek pressed to the earth.

Next time, you promised yourself.

You uncurl your fingers from his cock, pressing both palms against the coarse bark of the red maple, back arching to press your ass out for him.

His fingers squeeze over your thigh highs again, just below the curve of your ass, cock streaking precum on your skirt.

"Fuck- you're so sexy...you gonna put these on for me again, huh baby?, he flips your skirt up, eyes darkening at the sight of your pretty dripping cunt.

"You- ah- you like them that much?", his hand grips your hip, cock teasing your entrance.

"Gonna show you how much", he growls just before pushing in.

If the sounds of your cries carried through the darkened woods, you didn't care who else heard them. The sounds of Steve's grunts and moans muffled by your hair set your belly alight, hips pushing back in a frenzy to meet his rough thrusts.

"You feel so good- you feel so fucking good, angel- fucking soaking my cock-shit"

Your nail polish chips at your filed edges as you rake them against bark, toes curling inside your shoes when his fingers find your clit.

It's all a delicious, dizzying mess under the night sky. Blood and sweat, slick and seed, you and Steve.

Walking back to your door, hand in hand with Steve, his release warm between your legs, you're satisfied now but that tug deep in your chest will make it self known again, need beckoning you back.

The next time you ring his door bell he finds you in a new skirt and thigh highs to match. Knowing smiles exchanged in place of words, he takes your hand as you lead him back to the woods.

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader

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