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drivergemini · 2 years

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hellfire baby :: e.m.

summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne

content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie

word count: 1013

when all of the hellfire boy’s entered through the theater room’s doors, they felt a huge rush of excitement. eddie had been hyping up his new campaign for about a month and told everyone that he was going to do something real special for their first meeting.

what they did not expect was a small little girl, maybe around 1 or 2 years old, sitting in their dungeon master’s place. she had a pink dragon onesie on and her big brown eyes stared back at the group.

“why good evening lovely gentlemen.” eddie popped out from behind his throne, holding a small sandwich bag filled with ‘star wars’ cookies. he handed it to the child with barely any acknowledgement and she gladly grabbed it with eager hands. “are you lads ready to start this wonderful campaign?”

each boy had their own looks of confusion on their faces. they looked at eddie and then the child, then back again.

“eddie why the hell is there a baby here?” dustin was the one who spoke up.

eddie’s face sported a wide grin. “well guys i would like to introduce you to the surprise i mentioned.” he scooped up the little girl and presented her to the d&d club memebers. “everyone this is my daughter mei. say hi mei mei.”

“hi mei mei.” the little voice spoke a she waved a tiny hand to the boys. she tugged her onesie hood down, reveling long, brown hair, just like her dad’s.

“daughter? eddie we didn’t even know you could speak to girls?” mike chimed in.

“well wheeler, if it matters to you, i don’t speak to girls because i already have my fiance.” he raised his eyebrows at the last part.

you see, eddie munson didn’t become a super-super senior because he was dumb. he became a super-super senior because he accidentally got his high school girlfriend pregnant. they had been together since they were 16. eddie and y/n were going great until the summer before their senior year. y/n’s pregnancy took a large toll to both of their academics, so eddie decided he would try and lighten his girlfriend’s stress load. on april 29th, 1984, their daughter was born.

he thought y/n’s future was too bright for her to be held back, so after she gave birth he let her continue as an almost normal high school student. eddie didn’t get to graduate that year. but he did get to hold his baby as he watched the love of his life walk the stage.

he didn’t graduate his second senior year either. he was too caught up in healthy parenting and making sure he was there to watch his daughter’s firsts. he watched her first steps, her first time eating solid foods, and even heard her first word. ‘dragon’.

so here he was, his third senior year, finally ready to walk that stage.

as eddie finished up the story he heard a sniff. all heads turned toward the direction of lucas.

“dude that story was so beautiful. i didn’t even know that.”

“yeah most people don’t except a few people who were in school during that time like harrington. but y/n kind of chose to drop off the map so it isn’t talked about much.” eddie sat down in his chair and placed his daughter on his lap. “now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?”

eddie’s new campaign was centered around exploring an abandoned gem mine to figure out what was terrorizing the near by townsfolk.

“so little dwarf, you enter the cave with your mates behind you. as you guide them with your light, the air becomes increasingly warm. as you approach the growing heat, you see a shimmer of pink scales.”

“munson you did not...” dustin starts as his hands grip the table.

“you raise your torch higher and you see her in all her glory...” eddie lifts mei off of his lap and places her in the middle of the table. “mei the fire breathing dragon.”

all the boys start to exclaim in frustration. what kind of sick father makes his own kid the first boss of his d&d campaign? eddie munson that’s who. after explaining they all need a time out to discuss, they all huddled in the corner.

“dude what are we going to do? we can’t slay the dragon. i mean look at her, she’s adorable!” dustin whispered.

“i mean honestly if you think about it, it’s just a game.” mike said. typical.

“yes but the moral principal of it is, eddie knows that we would have to be sick son’s of bitches to kill a kid. especially his daughter.” dustin explained frustrated.

him and mike felt a little wedge between their legs. they all looked down to see mei still holding her bag of cookies.

“tooktie?” she raised it up to the air, offering the boys a share of her snack.

each boy took only one, while politely thanking her for sharing. she unwedged herself from the huddle and waddled towards her dad.

“juice peas?” she said to him, pointing to a sippy cup sitting on the table. he handed her the cup and looked at the clock on the wall.

“unfortunately boys, time is up for today’s meeting.” eddie tsked.

just as he said that, y/n opened the door to the club room and walked in scanning around. each person all had their eyes on her.

“mommy!” mei squealed, running towards the young woman. she jumped into her arms, y/n picking her up and spinning her around.

eddie grabbed a small child lunch box and walked towards the two girls. “as you see i can't stay any later than i’m supposed to tonight guys. but this will give you some more time to think about your next move.”

he trailed behind the two girls, waving everyone goodbye.

as the door closed, each hellfire member could hear a faint, “eddie why is our daughter talking about slaying a dragon?”

followed by “edward munson why did our daughter just say son of a bitch?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things 4 #eddie munson my beloved #parenting fic #the baby fever has been real yall #hellfire baby sushihousebread

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mimi-0007 · 1 month

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FATHER & SON: James Earl Jones with his Father Robert Earl Jones on Stage in the 1962 Production "Moon on a Rainbow Shawl."

Robert Earl Jones (February 3, 1910 – September 7, 2006), sometimes credited as Earl Jones, was an American actor and professional boxer. One of the first prominent Black film stars, Jones was a living link with the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and 1930s, having worked with Langston Hughes early in his career.

Jones was best known for his leading roles in films such as Lying Lips (1939) and later in his career for supporting roles in films such as The Sting (1973), Trading Places (1983), The Cotton Club (1984), and Witness (1985).

Jones was born in northwestern Mississippi; the specific location is unclear as some sources indicate Senatobia, while others suggest nearby Coldwater. He left school at an early age to work as a sharecropper to help his family. He later became a prizefighter. Under the name "Battling Bill Stovall", he was a sparring partner of Joe Louis.

Jones became interested in theater after he moved to Chicago, as one of the thousands leaving the South in the Great Migration. He moved on to New York by the 1930s. He worked with young people in the Works Progress Administration, the largest New Deal agency, through which he met Langston Hughes, a young poet and playwright. Hughes cast him in his 1938 play, Don't You Want to Be Free?.

Jones also entered the film business, appearing in more than twenty films. His film career started with the leading role of a detective in the 1939 race film Lying Lips, written and directed by Oscar Micheaux, and Jones made his next screen appearance in Micheaux's The Notorious Elinor Lee (1940). Jones acted mostly in crime movies and dramas after that, with such highlights as Wild River (1960) and One Potato, Two Potato (1964). In the Oscar-winning 1973 film The Sting, he played Luther Coleman, an aging grifter whose con is requited with murder leading to the eponymous "sting". In the later 20th century, Jones appeared in several other noted films: Trading Places (1983) and Witness (1985).

Toward the end of his life, Jones was noted for his stage portrayal of Creon in The Gospel at Colonus (1988), a black musical version of the Oedipus legend. He also appeared in episodes of the long-running TV shows Lou Grant and Kojak. One of his last stage roles was in a 1991 Broadway production of Mule Bone by Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston, another important writer of the Harlem Renaissance. His last film was Rain Without Thunder (1993).

Although blacklisted by the House Un-American Activities Committee in the 1950s due to involvement with leftist groups, Jones was ultimately honored with a lifetime achievement award by the U.S. National Black Theatre Festival.

Jones was married three times. As a young man, he married Ruth Connolly (died 1986) in 1929; they had a son, James Earl Jones. Jones and Connolly separated before James was born in 1931, and the couple divorced in 1933. Jones did not come to know his son until the mid-1950s. He adopted a second son, Matthew Earl Jones. Jones died on September 7, 2006, in Englewood, New Jersey, from natural causes at age 96.

THEATRE

1945 The Hasty Heart (Blossom) Hudson Theatre, Broadway

1945 Strange Fruit (Henry) McIntosh NY theater production

1948 Volpone (Commendatori) City Center

1948 Set My People Free (Ned Bennett) Hudson Theatre, Broadway

1949 Caesar and Cleopatra (Nubian Slave) National Theatre, Broadway

1952 Fancy Meeting You Again (Second Nubian) Royale Theatre, Broadway

1956 Mister Johnson (Moma) Martin Beck Theater, Broadway

1962 Infidel Caesar (Soldier) Music Box Theater, Broadway

1962 The Moon Besieged (Shields Green) Lyceum Theatre, Broadway

1962 Moon on a Rainbow Shawl (Charlie Adams) East 11th Street Theatre, New York

1968 More Stately Mansions (Cato) Broadhurst Theatre, Broadway

1975 All God's Chillun Got Wings (Street Person) Circle in the Square Theatre, Broadway

1975 Death of a Salesman (Charley)

1977 Unexpected Guests (Man) Little Theatre, Broadway

1988 The Gospel at Colonus (Creon) Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, Broadway

1991 Mule Bone (Willie Lewis) Ethel Barrymore Theatre, Broadway

FILMS

1939 Lying Lips (Detective Wenzer )

1940 The Notorious Elinor Lee (Benny Blue)

1959 Odds Against Tomorrow (Club Employee uncredited)

1960 Wild River (Sam Johnson uncredited)

1960 The Secret of the Purple Reef (Tobias)

1964 Terror in the City (Farmer)

1964 One Potato, Two Potato (William Richards)

1968 Hang 'Em High

1971 Mississippi Summer (Performer)

1973 The Sting (Luther Coleman)

1974 Cockfighter (Buford)

1977 Proof of the Man (Wilshire Hayward )

1982 Cold River (The Trapper)

1983 Trading Places (Attendant)

1983 Sleepaway Camp (Ben)

1984 The Cotton Club (Stage Door Joe)

1984 Billions for Boris (Grandaddy)

1985 Witness (Custodian)

1988 Starlight: A Musical Movie (Joe)

1990 Maniac Cop 2 (Harry)

1993 Rain Without Thunder (Old Lawyer)

TELEVISION

1964 The Defenders (Joe Dean) Episode: The Brother Killers

1976 Kojak (Judge) Episode: Where to Go if you Have Nowhere to Go?

1977 The Displaced Person (Astor) Television movie

1978 Lou Grant (Earl Humphrey) Episode: Renewal

1979 Jennifer's Journey (Reuven )Television movie

1980 Oye Ollie (Performer) Television series

1981 The Sophisticated Gents (Big Ralph Joplin) 3 episodes

1982 One Life to Live

1985 Great Performances (Creon) Episode: The Gospel at Colonus

1990 True Blue (Performer) Episode: Blue Monday

#james earl jones #black tumblr #black literature #black community #black excellence #blackexcellence365 #actor #robert earl jones #stage actor

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writingoddess1125 · 8 months

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Theater Brat pt. 3 🎭

Buggy x FemReader

Some more Angst then Fluff but still fun!

You felt like your head was pounding, groaning softly as you felt yourself come to. Was it the alcohol from the party in Tangerine town?.. but you don't remeber drinking that much?.. It wasn't until the image of Buggy's eyes on you that evening that everything came to and you snapped your eyes open finally.

It was almost pitch black but with a single spotlight on the ground about 10 ft from you, yourself seated on what could only be described as a wooden red throne. Sitting up you see you're dresses in a far too expensive gown, very similar to one from your favorite musicals but dyed a sky blue color as well as jewelry hanging down from your ears, neck and wrist. Even a ring placed on your hand which was gold with a sapphire in the center.

A sense of panic hit your chest as you tried to sit up- far too quickly as the ache in your head returned. Making you sit back down on the chair.

"Sorry, those Muggy Balls can cause drowsiness and headaches.. I thought I gave you the smallest one I had but- seems it was still too strong" You heard a all too familiar voice say, turning to see Buggy standing just to the side of the throne. Leaned against it as he used one of his knives to clean under his nails-

"B-Buggy what the hell? I agreed to go with you- why did you?"

"To make it easier, it's harder to sneak a person put instead of just kidnapping them while unconscious. Way quieter" He said with a crooked grin, Leaning back up and walking around the throne like chair. Looking you over like a predator who had finally caught their prey.

"And the costume?.." You questioned, swallowing thickly as you saw his eyes linger over your form.

"Just a gift, for your care of me while with the Strawhats" He said with a smile. His hands playing with your hair as he stepped to your left and sighed contently at the sight of you.

"Bring it here!" He yelled at some shadows in the corner, before a grand desk was brought out and set infront of you by two of his crewmates. The finest of pens, pencils, paints and paper also set upfront of you, as well as a bowl of fine sweets you had once expressed enjoying and even popcorn.

You couldn't help but feel both flattered and a little scared how much he had thought this threw. Your favorite snacks, your favorite drinks, he had truly listened to it all and you hadn't even realized it.

"I have prepared my best show yet, and as promised. No 'Gore' or anything to scare you Doll' He said teasingly, which surprisingly drew a chuckle from you.

"I hope you enjoy, and I do want to see what you can draw up for me" He said with a wink as he stepped back from you and into the waiting spotlight.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Girls here to witness the greatest show of all! Buggy' Circus of Delight!" He announced, the lights coming on all around you as flocks of different acts came out in at first a symphony of chaos. Before they organized in a perfect rehearsed fashion.

Act after act was done perfectly, from the dancing Lion, to Buggy's juggling act which even included his own head that made you laugh st your seams. Musical numbers of your favorite songs, Acrobatics, Contortionist and everything under the sun.

By the end of it you were Grinning ear to ear and applauding the group.

"That was absolutely wonderful! You all are very talented and lovely, I'm impressed" You praised, which earned received smiled from the crew. Buggy walked over to you and leaned against the chair again to see what you had made, Grinning widely at the drawing you had conjured up.

"Perfect-" He muttered, You looking up at him to see his eyes on you and not your painting. Blushing a bit as you smiled.

"I'm glad you like it Buggy! I wanted the highlight the diversity and talent of your show" You said, cheerfully, however you were surprised when Buggy detached his hand and gently grabbed yours. Looking to see you had removed the bracelets and ring-

"You took them off?" He questioned, raising a brow at said jewelry on the desk.

"Oh I didn't want to get ink on them or scratch the paper" You admitted with a calm shrug. He frowned slightly.

"If they were damaged or you don't like them I'd get you new ones" He said with a shrug, Acting like the jewelry wasn't that important or hard to find.

"(Y/N) I promise I'll give you anything you wish for. Nothing is too expensive for you" He said, his eyes glowing with that same emotion as before- one you didn't know until now... obsession.

"There is no need for that, I promise. Besides Buggy this stuff is lovely but far too expensive for me. This could cost most people a fortune and I have never worn expensive things" You emphasized, but saw Buggy smile and pick back up the ring and slide it back on your finger. Giving your hand a gentle squueze.

He waved over his crew members who brought his throne over- you realizing he must have had a second throne for you either brought up or made as his own was sat next to you, his hand still holding over yours. As if also rehearsed a large meal was brought out and set on open spots of the desk. You noticed how much this seemed to be planned- the show, dress, jewelry even the lunch and snacks gifted to you... it was perfectly planned.

"Say what did you think of the juggling?-" Buggy said quickly, pulling your mind from yout questioning thoughts like he could read you so openly.

You and Buggy talked for a while, eating lunch together and tlaughing. Buggy expressing delight in the artistic rendering that you had made and even flexing his arm to show that he was way buffer then most, laughing you to break out in giggles which he clearly enjoyed

"This has been delightful Buggy, But I must get back to my crew" You said with a happy sigh having enjoyed the day greatly despite the scary start, not catching the darkened look that grazed Buggy's eyes.

"Alright, But it has been a long journey and show for you. How about you take a bath and rest a little? I have a room you can use" He said with a kind smile, which seemed off in a way. However you nodded non the less.

After the very nice bath and having a few snacks you laid in the massive bed. Dressed in the nice pajamas that one of the crew members dropped off for you.

You looked around, noticing something you hadn't noticed before. The gold looking bolts on your window so it couldn't be opened, how secure this room was and separated it was from the crew quarters. Paired with something that immediately caught you eyes- painted directly above your head was a blue bird- around its closed wings golden lines wrapped around it..

"A golden cage..." You whispered, dread filling your soul as you looked around. The expensive clothes laid in the cherry wood draws, the massive sleigh bed that was filled with the finest of of pillows and silk blankets. All the art supplies and trinkets you could ask for.. This was your cage- He wasn't going to let you out.

Rushing to the door you try the handle, feeling the door not give way and the handle not budge. Locked.. from the outside. Rapidly you started to pull at the handle, feeling tears well in your eyes as the realization fully set in.

"Oh Gods..." You gasped out, fear running through your body as you stood back. Realizing what was happening to you- A prisoner of Buggy, his own personal friend that he would never let go of-

You started to bag against the door and cry out for release but your please were ignored. Instead silence only following you- As fear crept into your system you sat at the stool near the window looking out at the sky and crying silently.

It was a few hours before you heard the sound of the door being unlocked. Watching as Buggy stepped in with a large tray of food and drinks that was clearly ment to be shared, a smile on his lips.

"I see you're settling in well- a few of my Freaks mentioned you had started to bang on the door and rattle the nob.." He said, his gaze hardening a bit while his voice stayed jovial. Watching you as you stood up from the easel and a painting you had started after crying.

"Buggy why are you keeping me here? This isn't what we agreed to! You said I could go"

"Did I?-" He said with a amused smile. You couldn't tell if this was a punishment for his imprisonment or a reward for your presence, Clearly it was as clouded to you as it was to him- He simply smiled seeing the confusion and fear in your eyes and brushed it off. Instead walking to the record player in the room and putting on one of the records, slow music began to bleed through the horn and filled the room with song.

"You're my person (Y/N) I can't let you go that easily"

Stepping forward towards your shaking form he gently wrapped one hand around your waist and another holding your hand. Guiding you to follow him in a gentle sway-

"I promise, I'll make you happy. Happier then anyone else-" He said calmly, his hand holding your tightly as the two of you swayed to the music. A few tears running down your cheek and felt his lips kiss them away slowly. Smiling against your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes as the music began to come to a end.

"and I'll kill anyone who dares try to get in my way"

#x reader #one peice x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #one peice live action #one piece

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nesyanast · 8 months

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Some suggestions for experimenting with Jewish practice and experiencing Jewish culture

Observe one full Shabbat. For 25 hours, do no work- not even the laundry. Attend services, read and relax, but don't go shopping or cook. If you have children, do something fun together as a family on Saturday afternoon.

Attend a synagogue-sponsored retreat for a sense of what a complete communal day of rest can be.

Try to keep kosher in a basic way for a month as a way to infuse one of the most basic of human needs with Jewish content. At home and when you eat out, avoid all shellfish and pork products, don't mix meat and milk, read the labels in the supermarket and don't buy foods prepared with lard.

Plan and host a holiday celebration.

Go shopping in a kosher food store and Jewish bookstore.

Attend Jewish theater performances, Jewish choral groups, shows by touring Israeli pop stars.

Tour the local Jewish community center (JCC).

Attend an Israel Independence Day celebration.

If you are a member of a congregation, get involved in a congregational program or two. Attend an adult education class or sisterhood events. Volunteer for committee work.

Include Jewish tours and expeditions while on vacation or business trips. In New York City, visit the lower east side, the Jewish Museum and Ellis Island. In Washington go to the Holocaust Museum. In Rome, visit the ancient Jewish ghetto. Whether you find yourself in Baltimore or Bombay, try to find the oldest Synagogue in the city, or makes a pilgrimage to the best Jewish deli. If you're in a strange city on Shabbat, go to services at a local synagogue.

From "Choosing a Jewish Life" by Anita Diamant

#jumblr #jewish #judaism #jews #jewish culture #nesyapost #jewish history #jewish holidays #jewblr #jewish conversion #jew by choice #jewish books #Jewish reading #full note: i feel be very cautious with hosting a Jewish celebration with no Jews present #i have a feeling others will feel the same tbh #some of these are more geared at with the assumption of having a Jewish partner so just keep that in mind

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blueiskewl · 6 months

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Vatican Museums Opens Ancient Roman Necropolis to the Public

The site was previously only accessible to scholars and specialists.

The Vatican Museums has newly opened to the public an ancient necropolis stocked with carved marble sarcophagi and bone-filled open graves of everyday ancient Romans.

The word necropolis comes from the Greek expression for “city of the dead.” These “cities” grew up alongside roads outside the urban center due to laws forbidding cremation and burial of the dead inside city limits. Funerary practices and rites are preserved especially clearly in the necropolis that extends along the Via Triumphalis (a Roman road now known as the Via Trionfale), with burial sites accompanied by eye-popping Roman frescoes and mosaics.

Previously, the necropolis was accessible only to certain groups of scholars and specialists. It is now open to the public via the new Saint Rose Gate entrance, inaugurated with the exhibition “Life and Death in the Rome of the Caesars.”

How extensive is the archaeological area?

It extends nearly 11,000 square feet. The size of the necropolis is not as extensive as some other Roman burial sites, but its importance lies in its proximity to one of the most significant religious sites in Christianity.

What is known about particular people who are buried there?

According to archaeologists, no less than the tomb of St. Peter himself is located in the Vatican Necropolis.

But in general, “Here, we have represented the lower middle class of Rome’s population,” said Leonardo Di Blasi, an archaeologist with the Vatican Museums, in a video on Euro News. “They are essentially slaves, freedmen, artisans of the city of Rome.” Some were the property of the emperor, and are indicated to have been the “servant of Nero.”

One of them was a man named Alcimus, who was the set director for the downtown Theater of Pompeii, the most important theater of the period. Another was a horse trainer who worked at the chariot races.

One young boy is interred there, according to the Catholic News Service, marked by a sculpture of a boy’s head accompanied by an inscription reading “Vixit Anni IIII Menses IIII Dies X,” Latin for “He lived four years, four months, and 10 days.”

How did this ancient burial ground come to light?

The Vatican burial grounds were first explored in the 1940s at the request of then Pope Pius X, who wanted to be buried near the grave of Peter the Apostle. The dig revealed numerous mausoleums and tombs.

The newest part of the burial ground was revealed through an infrastructure project in 2003, as the Vatican excavated for a new multilevel employee parking garage.

What happened when the Vatican discovered these newest burial grounds?

The department of the Vatican that was overseeing construction of the parking garage, intent on meeting its deadline, was accused of trying to conceal the find, Giandomenico Spinola, an archaeologist and deputy artistic-scientific director of the museums, told the Catholic News Service. It was only when journalists publicized the discovery that he and his colleagues were invited in to advise.

When were the bodies there buried? How have the tombs been so well preserved?

Bodies were interred in this burial ground between the first century B.C.E and the fourth century C.E., and organic remains have vanished. A number of the graves, including their tombs and decorations, including frescoes, mosaic floors, and marble-carved inscriptions, were fortuitously preserved by a series of mudslides in the area.

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tightjeansjavi · 10 months

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♡ Barbie Girl ♡ | AU!Joel Miller x f! Reader

A/N: this was such a fun lil idea to pursue and I love the idea of Joel wearing pink just cause he knows how happy it makes Sarah ♡

~word count: 1.5k~

Summary: Joel, Sarah and Tommy go to the Barbie movie opening weekend

Warnings: none, lots of fluff, Joel is a feminist icon, soft dad vibes, Joel is a girl dad himbo, he’ll do anything to make his kid happy, Sarah is an icon on her own, Tommy is Tommy of course but he’s so himbo too, AU that takes place in 2023, Joel is a progressive dad, Sarah loves him for it, little bit of flirting with Joel and the reader, no age gap, some spoilers for the Barbie movie! (+18 for language) minors dni.

July 2023, Austin Texas

Joel Miller never would consider himself to be a ‘girl dad’ as the younger generation would refer to him as. He had to literally look up what the word ‘DILF’ meant when Sarah told him one day after school that all of the moms thought he was attractive. He had Google on speed dial just so he could feel like he was ‘hip’ again. 36 years old and he felt older than ever. Sarah was a big help of course and steered her dad in the right direction political wise. Her dad was a good man of course, but nothing made her happier than when she had his full support as a young woman. Before the Barbie movie came out, Joel and Sarah spent every weekend volunteering at a local women’s shelter. The bumper of his truck was decorated with women-empowering stickers including a sticker that said, ‘Abortion is Healthcare’ and ‘Women’s Rights Are Human Rights.’ He didn’t stop there of course. He also had a BLM sticker, ‘Dismantle White Supremacy’, ‘Eat The Rich’ and he still had a Bernie sticker front and center.

The weekend that the Barbie movie came out, Joel had already pre ordered tickets for him, Sarah and Tommy as well who had multiple pink shirts for Joel to choose from. Sarah had insisted that they all had to wear pink and Joel would do just about anything to make his baby girl happy.

“Are ya sure your old man doesn’t look silly in this?” Joel gestured to his hot pink tee-shirt with a soft huff as he observed his appearance in the mirror.

“Dad, why do you think you look silly? Pink is totally your color!” Sarah responded with a genuine smile as she playfully placed the Barbie baseball cap on his mess of brown curls. “Do you or do you not feel Bonita?”

Joel stifled a chuckle, shaking his head as he fixed the cap on his head. “I feel Bonita.”

The drive to the movie theater consisted of listening to a Barbie inspired Spotify playlist off of Sarah’s phone. Joel and Tommy proudly knew every word to the Barbie Girl song of course. Once they arrived to the theater, Joel was awe-struck at the amount of people who were dressed in pink and he felt less self-conscious about his hot pink shirt when he saw numerous guys and dads wearing pink shirts as well.

At first he was confused when a group of women around his age said, “Hi Ken” to him and Tommy, and “Hi Barbie” to Sarah who immediately responded with a wave and, “Hi Barbie!” She gently nudged her dad with her elbow as he stood there blinking, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Dad, you gotta say hi Barbie! Back.”

“Oh. OH! Shit, sorry sweet pea.” He cleared his throat under his breath before he raised his hand with a sheepish smile. “Hi Barbie!” He was looking right at you out of all of your friends. You were dressed head to toe in pink and you mirrored the same sheepish smile that he did. Joel turned to his daughter afterwards, cheeks feeling inflamed. “Did I do alright? So, I say that everytime someone says hi Ken?”

“You did great, dad! Yeah, so everytime a Barbie says, ‘hi Ken!’ You say, ‘hi Barbie!’, and when a Ken says, ‘hi Ken!’ You say, ‘hi Ken!’”

“Yeah, brother. It ain’t that hard.” Tommy chimed in and wrapped his arm around Joel’s shoulders and gave them a light squeeze.

“Shuddup Tommy.” Joel grumbled under his breath.

Your friends from your college days insisted that you join them to go see the new Barbie movie. At first you were against the idea until you read reviews and once you saw it was a movie that empowered women, you were all in. It was your idea in the end to dress head to toe in pink and you and your friends each had a comfort Barbie in your purses as well.

When you saw Joel Miller across the way looking confused as all hell when your friends said ‘hi Ken!’ You thought he was adorable for two reasons. One being he clearly was wearing pink to support his daughter and two, he looked proud of himself after saying ‘hi Barbie!’ To you and your friends.

“Now, that’s a real man if I’ve ever seen one!” Your one friend, Jessica excitedly whispered to the group as if she was back in her highschool days in the passing period hallways.

“Okay, but his brother? Jesus Christ, if I wasn’t married I would be all over that!” Avery chimed in with a giggle.

“How do you know that they’re brothers? They could be two dads taking their daughter to the movies.” You responded with a shrug as you pulled up the tickets on your phone.

“Nah, they look related and besides, the one with the baseball cap was looking right at you babe!” Jaimie commented with a small grin as she nudged your side gently.

“No, he wasn’t.” You responded with a light laugh and shake of your head.

“Girl, he looked like a blubbering fish when he saw you.” Your friends all affirmed.

Your friends were right on the money with that one. Joel Miller was doing his absolute best to check you out in the most respectful way he could while he was in the line for popcorn. Sarah of course caught the way her dad was looking at you, and she was determined to get him to muster up the courage to talk to you after the movie.

The movie was everything Sarah had imagined it to be. She laughed, she cried and Joel and Tommy had teared up during some of the scenes. Especially when Barbie and Ken travel to the real world and the first thing she experiences is being cat-called and objectified by men. The patriarchy was alive and well outside of Barbie land and as a straight, white man, Joel recognized that he and Tommy had an easy life compared to their female counterparts. This didn’t mean that they agreed with it. In fact, Joel and Tommy were fully against the patriarchal system.

Sarah found herself hugging her dad tightly as the credits rolled and he was gently smoothing down her curls and kissing the top of her head. Sometimes Joel felt guilty over the fact that Sarah no longer had a mother figure in her life, but it was moments like these that reminded him that he was just a dad doing his best for his kid who he loved so dearly. “I love you so much, baby girl. I’ll always fight for you. Okay, kiddo?” He whispered softly with his lips against her temple.

Sarah hugged him tighter. “I love you so much dad. Thank you for always being there for me.”

Tommy was tearing up again.

The three Millers took a selfie with the Barbie poster just outside the movie theater with their faces squished into the frame. The picture was being taken while you were standing outside of the women’s bathroom waiting for your friends. You watched as Joel struggled to get his phone at the right angle, so you took it upon yourself to go over and help. “Hi Kens, hi Barbie! Would you guys like me to take a picture of you?”

Joel already felt his cheeks begin to heat up. “Hi Barbie. That would be great if ya could. Can never get these damn angles right with this thing. I uh—I like your outfit. It’s very Barbie.” He commented softly.

“Thanks, Ken. I really like your baseball cap.” You responded with a genuine smile as he handed you his phone. You took a few steps back so that all three Miller’s would be in the frame. You took a few photos before handing him his phone back just as your friends were departing from the bathroom.

“Hey, Barbie? Before you go, my dad is way too shy to say it but he thinks you’re super duper pretty.” Sarah proclaimed without skipping a beat.

Joel was beet red now as he scrubbed a hand down his face, fingertips scraping across his beard. “Sarah! You can’t just—” He sighed with a nervous smile. “Okay, it’s true Barbie. I do think you’re super duper pretty. Cats out of the bag thanks to my daughter.” He gave Sarah a playful warning look and mussed up her curls.

“Well Ken, it’s your lucky day because I think you’re really handsome. Do you wanna see Oppenheimer with me next weekend?”

“I would absolutely love to go see Oppenheimer with you next weekend Barbie.” Joel didn’t hesitate to respond.

“It’s a date. See you next weekend, Ken.” You exchanged phone numbers before you made your way over to your friends who were waiting for you.

“This Barbie has a date next weekend!” You told your friends the good news and they all excitedly cheered for you.

As soon as Joel and Sarah got home, Sarah dug out her old box of Barbie’s and brought them down to the living room, while Joel had found all of the Barbie DVD’s that Sarah insisted he keep. They spent the rest of the evening playing with her Barbie’s and watching the Princess and the Pauper; Sarah’s all time favorite Barbie movie.

Tag list: @chaotic-mystery @saradika @cavillscurls @thetriumphantpanda @sinsofsummers @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @last-girl @tessa-quayle (you will love this one)

Creator divider made by @saradika

Barbie divider made by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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accio-victuuri · 5 months

Text

Wang Yibo Bazaar January Issue feature article

What do you hope to see from him when you pay attention to him?

Faced with a public figure does not speak, should we choose to remain silent and just observe and speculate, or should we continue to build a bridge of dialogue at eye level and continue to ask questions?

This is a question Wang Yibo asked us.

We are happy to receive and answer - to come calmly without presuppositions, to follow only the intuitive guidance of the moment, to eliminate biased thoughts, and to see him as a "person" first.

This is not an article written just to fill the page. Perhaps what I can tell you truthfully is that every word in it was written at the filming site of this work, and was typed word by word at a distance of less than 20 meters away from the person I was working on - Wang Yibo. It seems that this is necessary to ensure the immediacy and time-limited nature of this creation.

It is full of questions that may not be asked even if they sit down and face to face. Perhaps it is precisely because there is no need for conclusive or chaotic answers that these questions become more reckless, direct and useless.

In the end, not only did the answer no longer matter, but it became increasingly unclear who the question was addressed to.

Wang Yibo: What you see is what you get

Written by: Lu Yanni

In a huge room surrounded by cement, there are two small temporary spaces surrounded by black cloth: the larger one is a shooting room, and the other smaller one is a space where people can watch movies and rest at any time. There were some white folding chairs inside, which were only occasionally empty throughout the cover shoot.

For more than four hours, the only thing that never stopped here was the music - some of which were from the editor's private playlist, and some of which were specially requested by Wang Yibo. They may be psychedelic, light, noisy, or strange, difficult to classify and describe, but no matter what the style and rhythm of the music are, they are all consistent and uninterrupted.

Wang Yibo just kept his head down and said nothing, even sternly smiling, and immersed himself in doing what everyone who came to him wanted him to do. Are all similar jobs the same? Does every day of his life look exactly like the same day?

The music was so loud that people could jump inside. He remained silent, without saying a word. There was nothing but silence.

He squatted down, covering his face with his hands, and then his head. His hands messed up his hair.

He half-knelt until he gradually fell to the ground. He curled up into a ball. He looked up. He bent over and simply lay flat on the ground, one leg bent, the other leg also bent, and his hands spread out and stretched forward. He fell directly to the ground. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hands on the white floor paper.

He said nothing, nothing but silence. Where is he lying?

I suddenly thought of his name being screamed out by the crowd in that small southern town more than a thousand miles away half a month ago, and the moment of silence when the lights went out in theaters one after another in contrast to the noise. , he sat down in the seat that belonged to him for a short period of time, and could occasionally get a moment of calm and peaceful listening time in the dark.

What shape and color is the peace he needs? Does he need peace?

The stylist used a tool to curl the bangs on the wig to make them fly a little more, then sprayed them with moisture, pulled them up, and sprayed them with hairspray to make them look messy and branched. He closed his eyes and let it all happen. That's not his hair. What does that lock of hair have to do with him?

A group of people squatted there, surrounding him in the center. The umbrella-shaped light illuminated him, and all he could hear was the snapping of the shutter and the blinking of the flash at the same frequency. It was as if a group of people had discovered some rare plants in the mountains and were sampling them very quietly and carefully. He sat there, occupying only the size of a corner.

Is this a rare moment of relaxation for him? "Relaxation" - it's just our guess. How can one person experience what he is feeling moment by moment for another person? Whether it is one-way or two-way, how easy is it to "understand" between people?

He stood up again, covering his head with his hands, as if he had just hit something, or as if the fight had just ended.

He tilted his head back slightly and took a deep breath. Was it exhaustion? Or some other feeling?

The staff passed by and sighed softly: "The shooting was too intense!"

Looking back, Wang Yibo was curled up in a ball and lying on the ground again. The photographer asked his assistant for a tissue, and he caught himself sweating profusely.

Wang Yibo was still lying on the ground, his body stretched further.

Reputation, what is it?

Is there anything else that can rival the vanity that comes with being in the spotlight?

If he were willing to give one thing in exchange for everything he has now, what would his answer be? What would your answer be?

Will prosperity last forever?

"I know why you wanna hate me! (I know why you wanna hate me!)" "

I know why you wanna hate me!"

The music has changed. Clothes changed. His body also seemed to be suddenly injected with a strength that would not be easily suppressed. Wearing a white vest, jeans, and chewing gum, Wang Yibo smiled, danced involuntarily to the music, and sang along, his voice getting louder and louder. The chorus was repeated once, twice, three times, four times...

"I know why you wanna hate me!"

He jumped up. His long arms and legs were swinging in the air.

What kind of opportunities and luck are needed to eliminate other people’s prejudices against you or your own prejudices against others? Is this something that can be controlled by just relying on the rise and fall of one's own ideas?

The next picture is the cover picture. Everyone is working hard to get as high a score as possible. His silence then became deeper.

Someone was saying, "Let's not act like a cover photo shoot... just be normal." So everyone laughed together, trying to relieve some of the pressure and tension, but he remained silent.

What are we creating?

He was leaning on the sofa, looking lazily at the camera, suddenly closing his eyes and leaning on the back of the sofa. How can we know what he is thinking at this time? Does he really enjoy this? A question that doesn't expect an answer at all. Who am I talking to? Who am I asking? A tree, a piece of cream cake, a chair, a bolt of lightning?

On this blank screen, a new face and a new piece of clothing appear every month. What does he, who occupies the center of the screen, think about such rapid changes? Is there any panic? If not, then where is his panic? Does he think his panic has merit? Why do so many things have to be assigned so-called "value"? Who stipulates that people must prepare for a rainy day? Can't we make a decision after it rains? So what if it rains and it’s too late to make a decision? It's nothing more than getting soaked all over. It will be fine if the sun comes out the next day to dry it off.

Things seem to be getting a little more difficult.

"We have to get this cover picture out..."

"How about everyone disperse and stop crowding around him."

It's so hot in the room.

What else could he do? He couldn't go anywhere but stay where he was. Doesn't he want so many people surrounding him? Is he afraid of crowds? Didn't he live for the crowds and the attention of everyone? What does he want to live for? What do you hope to see from him when you pay attention to him?

If a little bit of the world is enough for him, how big is that "little bit"? What are the essentials?

There was a burst of cheers and applause, and everyone was very excited. He suddenly raised his arms in the slightly depressed atmosphere, and wow, the photo was finally "available".

“Well done!”

#wang yibo #this article made me feel some kind of way and it’s so beautiful cause the writer is just observing yibo #it must be so intimidating to work with him 😅😅😅

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 16 days

Note

d. di. dillo ml <3 could i maybe perhaps get hcs for the boys and a theatre kid! s/o? <3

A/N: I’m a stage manager so I feel qualified to answer these asks. I went down the high school theater train here because it felt the most applicable and I felt most confident writing it so…yeah. Hope you enjoy!

DARRY CURTIS

This man is an absolute saint and unofficially joined your set building crew once your show started because he works in construction kinda sorta and figured what better way to help your show than to help build everything you need

The rest of the cast and crew goes absolutely wild when he shows up the first time because let’s be real folks, Darry is absolutely stunning, incredibly strong, and an absolute gentlemen

He’s wonderful at helping you with lines too, if you need some assistance with memorizing or just someone to talk through them with, Dare is more than happy to help you out

Dare’ll give up his free time for that too, like in the evenings when he wants to do is crawl into bed and catch some rest before having to work again tomorrow, he’ll sit with you in the living room and recite lines until you feel confident

Come show time, he’s sitting in the front row with his brothers, grinning up at you when you’re on stage, clapping the loudest when it’s done <3

He brings you flowers too, a nice little bouquet that he gives to you after you’re done, congratulating you on such a good performance, he’ll tell you every show you do was even better than your last, no matter what happens

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop absolutely loves that you’re an actor, he thinks it’s super duper cool and is literally so in awe of your talent no matter how talented you think you actually are-

He likes to joke, that if he were still in school, he’d be up on stage with you, acting right alongside you, playing every love interest you could ever have on that big stage

The theater director, I’m sure, would have loved to have Sodapop in the plays/musicals because just look at that man’s face and I will bet you actual money that Sodapop can sing too

On those rough days, the days where you can’t remember any of your lines, can’t hit any of your notes, miss every single one of your cues, Sodapop will be there to help you through it

Those days happen, I see them all the time, but Sodapop, with the gentlest voice you’ve ever heard and the sweetest smile on his face, will offer to help you with everything

Come showtime, Sodapop is sitting in that front row, right in the center of the stage, hearts in his eyes and flowers in his hands, eager for you to perform so he can see you doing your thing <3

PONYBOY CURTIS

Guess what buds, Ponyboy Curtis a stage crew kiddo because I said so and now it’s canon in this universe in which these headcanons exist-

He does lights or something, something where he’s around the cast enough to develop a huge crush on you but still separate enough so that he has to make an effort to see you

But once you start dating, Ponyboy finds himself being dragged into the cast circles and into your friend groups more often, being brought more into the acting group of people

One time, and I swear to you it happened one time, he was working one of the spotlights for a rehearsal and was so in awe of your acting talent that he just…forgot…to spot you during your big monologue…

When he notices that he missed his cue, he apologizes like a million times once he finds you again, and when you realize why he missed the cue, please give him a million more kisses because that’s really cute

After you guys finish your show, Ponyboy takes you out to the diner or something and have a little date with you and congratulate you on your job well done!

DALLAS WINSTON

After talking with my dearest friend, thanks a bunch @a-person-who-didnt-wanna-be-here, I finally figured out what I was gonna say about this boyo, I stared at his section for WAY too long

But anyway! If you’re dating Dallas and you’re doing high school theater, prepare yourself for him either asking a shit ton of questions about what you’re working on or absolutely not caring about anything at all

For sure, he’ll show up at your shows and give you a rinky-dink little bouquet of flowers and congratulate you on a job well done and have absolutely no clue about what show you just performed

Dallas will literally get up in the middle of the show and leave because he’s bored when you’re not on the stage and he’ll just hang out outside and smoke until he’s bored of being outside and wants to go back in

If you find yourself in the unfortunate situation where you have to kiss one of your fellow actors for a scene, you don’t have any good options regarding Dallas

Either you tell him before and have to deal with him complaining and threatening your fellow actor or you don’t tell him and run the risk of him finding out <3 good luck!

JOHNNY CADE

Supportive! Boyfriend! To! The! Max! Johnny is absolutely wonderful with a theater kid partner and I just know it all the way done to the marrow in my bones

He would help you run lines, hanging out at your house until the late hours of the night until you’ve got all your lines down and just help you remember them because he just likes you so much

Johnny doesn’t want to be in the plays/musicals and he doesn’t want to be involved with the stage crew either, but he hangs around rehearsals when he can because it beats going home and he likes being able to walk you back to your house when it gets late and stuff

The rest of the cast loves him though, he’s a sweetheart and a little cutie and ya know, he just, he never does anything wrong. He’s a little baby boy and I love him-

He comes to all your shows! You can always find him sitting in the audience cheering for you at curtain calls and waving when he catches your attention

Johnnykid tries to get the rest of the boys to come with him too, mostly Ponyboy, because he wants to show off how talented you are and all that good jazz!

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit is not in any of the shows. He’s never on a cast list, never in the crew, he doesn’t help with anything at all. But he’s always at rehearsals-

Why is he wasting his time at rehearsals you may ask? Why is he spending afternoons in that old theater, sitting in the uncomfortable seats and watching people practice a show he’s not even in? Oh, it’s because of you, of course!

He doesn’t do much, especially not when he’s got you sitting next to him, and a majority of his time is spent sitting with you and running his mouth about the other cast members and stuff

A large chunk of what he says are compliments on your acting and mumbled remarks into your ear about how you’re better than whoever is on stage or how the two of you could be off somewhere else, doing something else…

But everyone else thinks he’s kinda funny and he doesn’t cause too many problems when he’s around cause you keep him on enough of a leash that anything he does can be considered more funny than problematic

When opening weekend rolls around, he tells everyone he knows to come see you perform, hyping you up consistently and making sure when you come out for bows, you’ve got an audience full of people waiting there to cheer you on!

STEVE RANDLE

I feel like I boil Steve’s character down to a cheerleader boyfriend way too often but like- that’s just the way he is- I don’t know what else you want me to say-

But anyways, just imagine for a moment, sitting in the garage of the DX while Steve’s covered in grease, working underneath a car, while you sit pretty by the toolboxes and run lines with him

He offers to pick you up from rehearsals and drive you home for multiple reasons because a) he likes taking care of you, b) he likes hearing about your rehearsal, and c) he’d never miss an opportunity to drive you around

He drags Sodapop along to your shows because he feels weird going by himself but still really wants to show up out of the blue and surprise you by sitting in the audience with flowers

Triple bonus boyfriend points, he takes you out for dinner after your final show to congratulate you on a job well done and treat you to something while simultaneously showing you off!

While you’re rehearsing and stuff, he calls you his superstar because he’s goofy like that and will state how you’re the next rising star and compare you to all these famous actors/actresses and ask you not to forget about him once you make it to Broadway

TIM SHEPARD

Tim popped by your rehearsal one time because…I don’t even know why, probably cause you forgot your script at his house or something and everyone absolutely lost it cause Big Bad Tim Shepard is at a theater rehearsal

He doesn’t really talk to anyone but you, handing over that script and offering to pick you up after you’re done and take you out to dinner or something <3

Tim’s a pain in the ass to work on lines with, but he’ll help you out if you really need a hand with memorizing them-

I’m getting this visual of you sitting in the Shepard kitchen late at night, deep in thought at the kitchen table while Tim sits on the opposite side and reads from your script, feeding you lines when you need a little hint

He drops you off at the theater on opening day, way earlier than the actual showtime because call times are a thing and they absolutely suck, but he sends you off on your way with a good luck kiss

Tim doesn’t sit in the front row, doesn’t sit with your family, doesn’t bring anyone else along with him, but he’s there at your shows and always gives you a little wave when you bow, winking at you when he manages to catch your eye

CURLY SHEPARD

Imma just be real with you, there’s a really high chance that Curly might be thrown in reform during your show run, he’s a delinquent and ya know, he has a rough time staying out of the pen sometimes

In that case ^^ he sends Tim in his stead so that Tim can tell him all about how you did so that Curly can shower you with praise once he gets out

If he’s not in the pen! Yay! He comes to all of your shows and never buys a ticket, sneaking in every time because no one’s gonna stop him from seeing you perform during your big moments

He hangs out during rehearsals, causing a ruckus when he can and loping off with a smug smirk when he gets kicked out, after blowing you a kiss of course

Curly’s not gonna bring you flowers but it’s not because he doesn’t care it’s just cause he doesn’t have the money or the memory to get you flowers so he just gives you a bunch of kisses instead!

Random to finish, but don’t ever try and get Curly to run your lines with you because he’ll end up turning it into some sort of, remember-a-line-and-you-get-a-kiss game and then y’all will just end up making out instead of working on memorizing lines sooooo……yeah

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five-rivers · 1 month

Text

Chance and the Community Chest

@bellsandmischief phic phight phic!

“I don't know, Tuck.”

“Come on, Danny. You said it yourself. There's not much else to do on a Friday night since ghosts trashed the mall. And the arcade. And the theater. And the mini-golf course. And the bowling alley. And the ice rink. And the roller rink.”

“You don't even like skating.”

“And Floody Waters. And the park. And the Nasty Burger. Both of them. And the McMasters.”

“We wouldn't be able to hang out in a McMasters anyway.”

“It's the principle of the thing. The park is closed, too–”

“The park isn't closed. It's just that the Amity Park New Religion Convention is happening there.”

“Do you really want to go to the park when it's full of cultists?”

“I don't know that it's fair to call them cultists–”

“One of the groups literally calls themselves the Coalition of Universally Lateral Thinkers.”

“No. That has to be a joke.”

“It isn’t. I've looked them up. They've got some kind of Scientology-level crap going on. They're convinced that you can astral project yourself to the Ghost Zone and travel to other realities that way.”

“Well, I mean, you can, but–”

“Wait, what? Stop. Stop walking. What do you mean, ‘you can?’ Are you saying that astral projection is an actual thing?”

“Yeah? Is that not what I said?”

“Right. So. Should we, uh, stop them? Is that why you've been so weird about coming?”

“I haven't been weird about coming. I've been questioning your decision to bring a dozen binders full of rules for a game when we've never been here before.”

“Excuse you, these are the latest Dragonpath PDFs that I got for the low, low price of free. And there are thirteen of them, not twelve.”

“Yeah, and then you made up the price difference by making color copies. Seriously, Tucker, I think community board game night is more like Monopoly and Scrabble, not, uh. Something with fifty pounds of rules. And no board.”

“Actually,” said Chance Counter, unable to resist butting in despite his eavesdropping being quite successful so far, “‘board game’ in this case is more shorthand for– What is that?”

He’d been listening in, but he’d thought the teens were exaggerating, as teens tended to do. Nothing had prepared him for the enormous stacks of white plastic three ring binders.

“Fifty pounds of rules for Dragonpath,” said the white one, deadpan. He was the one carrying most of the books. “Weren’t you listening?”

“Oh,” said Chance. “Yeah. Are you the only ones planning on playing… that.”

“I wasn’t planning on playing anything in particular, Tucker just needed help bringing them over from his house. I’d be perfectly happy with Monopoly or, I don’t know, that one where you’re building stuff on an island.”

“Catan?” suggested Chance.

“Could be,” said the boy. Thinking back on the overheard conversation, Chance was pretty sure his name was Danny.

“I can’t believe it,” said Tucker. “I’ve been abandoned. Abandoned by my own friend. Abandoned! For what’s objectively the worst board game ever.” He almost dropped the binders, but his friend shored up his stack with his hip.

“What, why is Catan the worst?”

“Not Catan! Monopoly!”

“Why is Monopoly the worst?”

“Because, as our dear friend Sam would say, it signifies and symbolizes the ultimate capitalist hellscape. And also it causes fights.”

“I don’t think Sam would say that.”

“You don’t think I’d say what?” asked a girl who had just walked through the door of the community center. “Oh, hi. Are you one of the organizers?”

“I sure am,” said Chance, smiling. “My name is Chance Counter. We’re right in here.” He gestured behind himself, into the room where he’d just finished setting up the last of the old folding tables. He hoped they’d withstand Tucker’s massive tomes. “You three are a little on the early side, but our regulars should start coming in soon enough.”

“You might get some extras,” said Sam, walking past him. “Basically everywhere else is torched. Ghosts.”

“It’s not only the ghosts. There’s also the construction and the convention–”

“But it’s mostly the ghosts. By the way did you see that one of the groups set up in the park has an acronym that literally spells ‘cult.’”

“Did everyone know this before me?” asked Danny. He circled Chance and deposited his load on the nearest table. It creaked alarmingly. “How much math do you need to know in order to play this, anyway?”

“Less than Monopoly,” said Tucker, also dropping his binders on the table. “Look, man, we can basically play Doomed with these rules.”

“Why would we do that when we can already, you know, just play Doomed?”

“Because we can do things that we can’t do in Doomed. Trust me, it’s going to be great.”

Danny blinked down at the books. “Look, I like a good TTRPG as much as the next guy, but this is a bit extreme. Sam, will you play Monopoly with me?”

“Sure,” said Sam, sliding the box out from the stack of games on the central table.

“Sam! You were supposed to rail against the greed and corruption of capitalist states where monopolies are allowed to form!”

“I can do that and still enjoy a fictional monopoly,” said Sam. “I get to be the race car.”

“I want the dog, then.”

“You two are horrible.”

“And our battle will be glorious,” said Danny. “Should we wait for the other people, or will they not want to play Monopoly?”

“Oh, our regulars are very easy-going. Most of them will go with whatever is set up, although we do have an RPG group that meets every other week. They mostly play Eldritch Endeavors, though.”

Tucker groaned. “I want the boot.”

“I sense a butt kicking joke approaching, but would you really kick a dog? A doggy? A cute little puppy?”

“I hate you.”

Chance heard the community center door open again. He poked his head back out into the hallway. “Andrew!” he said, as the teens mumbled something about sense. “Great to see you. We don’t usually get you on the first Friday.”

Andrew, who was tall, thin, and sported a goatee, paused. “The first Friday?”

“Lost track of the days, huh? Well, might as well make the most of it. We’ve got some kids setting up a game of Monopoly back there.”

“Yes, I suppose I might as well,” said Andrew. He pulled off his coat, folded it over his arm, and stopped halfway into the room. “You!”

“You!” replied Danny.

“Chance, you really can’t allow this poetry-destroying hoodlum in here!”

“I said I was sorry! And then you attacked me!”

“It was my magnum opus!”

“Hey! Hey! This is a community game night,” said Chance. “The center policy is that everyone is welcome here unless they start something here, okay?”

“What about restraining orders?” asked Danny.

“Do you have one?”

“... No.”

“Then I don’t see how that matters. Now, you don’t have to play together–”

“Oh, but I will,” said Andrew, pulling a chair up to the table. “I’ll take any avenue to give this brat the beating he so richly deserves.”

“Oh, it’s on.”

“Uh, could we maybe tone down the smack talk as well? Maybe to something that wouldn’t get you arrested when taken out of context?”

Andrew simmered. Danny glared.

“Hi, Chance, what’ve we got– What are you doing here?”

“Star?” asked Sam, incredulously.

“Mikey?” asked Tucker, more incredulously.

“Oh, uh, hi, guys,” said Mikey, shyly.

Danny looked between the two of them. “Did you guys not know that they’re dating or something?”

“How do you know that we’re dating?” demanded Star.

“We’re keeping it secret!” said Mikey, horrified and loud enough that any secrecy was most likely moot.

“Not very well.”

Star swallowed visibly. “If you tell anyone–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no threats during community game night, please,” said Chance. “My heart can’t take it.”

“Who would we even tell?” asked Tucker. “We’re social pariahs. Hey, Mikey, how do you feel about Dragonpath?”

“Third edition is better. And Eldritch Endeavor is better than all of them.”

“You’re dead to me.”

“Aw, Tucker, I thought I was dead to you.”

“Anyway, this is the first Friday,” said Star. “Not RPG night. Is this the set with the purse?”

“Don’t think so,” said Danny, peering into the box.”

“I’ll get it,” said Mikey, moving towards the stack of game boxes where the second Monopoly set was hiding. “Is anyone the iron yet?”

“The what?” asked Tucker.

“The clothes iron,” said Mikey. “I like the irony.”

“Oh, you mean the useless technological throwback.”

“I iron some of my clothes,” said Sam.

“Of course you do,” said Tucker, shaking his head. “Of course you do.”

“I would like to play the game, now,” said Andrew.

Chance clapped his hands together. “So, Danny, why don’t you start us off, since you were the first one in?”

“Mm, yeah,” said Danny. “Let me just finish dealing out Mikey’s money.” He set down a few more bills, then shoved them over to where Mikey had just sat down. “Okay. Dice?” Tucker handed them over, muttering imprecations. “And… seven. That’s… one… two… three… four… five… six… seven. Chance. Erm. Chance card, I mean. So, let’s see here… ‘Take a walk on the Boardwalk. Advance token to Boardwalk.’”

There was a wave of quiet as Danny happily paid the bank four hundred Monopoly dollars and set the Boardwalk deed card down in front of himself. He looked up. “What?”

“Danny,” said Sam. “This is nothing personal, but you know that we all have to destroy you now, right?”

Danny’s eyes narrowed. “Bring it.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic

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whereserpentswalk · 6 months

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Imagine how it would feel to be in a post apocalyptic world but live in a place that's relatively unaffected. Like, society in breaking down but the specific place where you live is mostly still continuing life as normal.

Like imagine you live in the largest city in your country (somewhere like New York, Berlin or Tokyo), and you're hearing about a portal unleashing horrors throughout the world. But because you live in an important trade city, you're mostly safe. The place you live is where the troops are centered, and where the protections are.

Eventually when the apocalypse is in full swing you're city lives on as a city state. The government is slowly replaced with a more left leaning one that can better deal with a world without global trade. The millions of people living in your city still have the types of jobs they had pre apocalypse, there's still electricity, public transport is still running, movies are still made, universities and theaters are still open. You're safe along with millions of people but you know that a few miles from your apartment, past a massive stone wall that they had to build, is the end of the world.

You hear on the news how people live in most of the world. The warlords, the strange scavenger and raider cultures, the mutants, the horrors from beyond the known world. But it's all so far away from you, yet so very close.

There are jobs in your society that exit the city. Technically everyone is allowed to leave but nobody would really want to unless it's for work. There are people who leave the cities as warriors, as scientists, as ambassadors, and as traders, some see them as brave adventurers, but most would never want to fill their shoes.

Sometimes people from outside the city move there. They really do look like you'd expect people from the apocalypse to look like. Each major group from outside the walls has their own enclaves and neighborhoods. You wonder why culture changed so quickly.

You've only been outside the walls once since they were built. It was just to see what it was like, and you didn't go far. You thought you would die, but you didn't. You saw a light in the distance from the fire of an unknown tribe, and you saw the same world that exists within the walls, and that existed before them.

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adrianicsea · 4 months

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the time that glenn howerton was in a gay period-piece play about crossdressing

so awhile back i was poking around glenn howerton's wikipedia looking for movies and such that i might have missed, and i noticed it had a small theatrical section listed. this was never something i'd given much thought in the past, but on this particular occasion i was so hard-up for new Glontent that i decided to see what i could find about the three plays listed there, because i'd never seen anyone else have much luck with that and i love a good internet scavenger hunt. walk with me.

compleat female stage beauty caught my eye right away-- the title of the play itself is interesting, and i happened to know already that the most famous real-life duke of buckingham was the lover of king james. so of course i went delving...

and what should i find but the entire playscript for compleat female stage beauty, For Free, on archive dot org? anyone on earth can rent it and read it for an hour at a time, or for 14 days if you want to really take your time with it. i have to assume that this is NOT common knowledge among sunny fans (or anyone else), as the archive upload only has 99 views at the time of making this post.

to give a VERY succinct summary of what the play is about-- in the 1660s, during the english restoration, women were allowed to act professionally onstage for the first time in english history. this caused problems for the male actors who had previously made their careers playing female characters, such as edward kynaston, around whom the play centers. outside of his acting career, kynaston is a gay man, and he's in a romantic entanglement with george villiars, the duke of buckingham (NOT the same duke of buckingham who was fucking king james-- that was this villiars' dad. we love gay fathers and their gay sons!) kynaston struggles to find his place in a changing social landscape where it seems as though his talents are no longer needed or wanted.

before getting into the script proper, the book has some information about notable early productions of the play. this is great because it pins down a lot of details about glenn's involvement in the show that wikipedia left unanswered, but there's also an unexpected sunny crossover here-- in an even EARLIER production, the lead role was played by david hornsby!

(i also learned over the course of my deep dive on this that glenn's costar, lead actor brandon demery, was a fellow member of glenn's graduating juilliard group!)

things don't end well for kynaston and villiars, but still, the onstage relationship between the two is both electrifying and heartbreaking as it changes over the course of the show.

now, this WOULD be where i would include cast pictures or footage or any kind of photos of glenn in this show... but if any such material exists, it's not publicly available. i went so far as to email the publicity and outreach coordinator for the theater that hosted glenn's production of this show to ask if they had any archived materials, but she told me that they didn't.

but this production took place in october of 2000, meaning it was pre-that 80s show, meaning we can all sit and think about how a glenn that looked like This was acting in a gay period piece about crossdressing and gender roles and the mystery of human sexuality. dudes rock.

a bit of a disappointing note to end on, i know, but i really wanted to talk about this play and share it with people!! it's a super interesting and overlooked part of glenn's early career, but also i think the script is fascinating and very well-written in its own right. i definitely encourage yall to check it out on the internet archive if you're interested-- again, it's literally free!

#glenn howerton #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #compleat female stage beauty #this is a longer and more coherent version of a post i made two months ago that got no traction--#--because i accidentally opted out of having my blog's original posts show in any tags. lol. and even lmao #it's crazy what's just like. there and relatively easy to find on the internet if you take the time to look

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months

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There's Beauty in Tragedy

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: home invasion, robbers, being tied up and gagged but not injured, mostly fluff

Summary: You own a multi-billion dollar company, and that means you're a target for a specific group of people who robs very rich. The whole experience is very scary but you meet the woman of your dreams because of it, so you can't be too mad at the situation.

Square Filled: crime scene (2023) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This big mansion is all to yourself. A dozen bedrooms and bathrooms, a big movie theater, a gorgeous indoor pool, a luxurious spa next to it, and that’s barely scratching the surface. Why do you need all this? Well, you don’t. You’re more than happy with living in a two-bedroom house that you can craft to your liking instead of a big place like this.

You make so much money that you had no other choice but to put it toward your dream house. Your heels click on the clean tiled floor as you walk into your sleek office where you know a hoard of emails are waiting for your response. For someone who is the CEO of the best jewelry company this country has ever seen, you have a shit ton of work you need to do.

Your passion in life is to make jewelry for people to feel beautiful in. It all started in the basement of your parent’s house like every other great company has. The first people you ever made jewelry for were your parents with jewels you found while camping one summer. They were so impressed that they told their immediate family who were interested in you doing this for them.

They told their friends who told their kids who told their friends and soon, everyone in town was lining at your door for your jewelry. That’s when you started taking commissions only for people who are willing to pay which is how you were able to buy your first car with your own money. Yes, you got a job when you turned seventeen so you can get experience under your belt even though you could live off what you were making on your jewelry sales.

Once the business got big enough to work out of your parent’s basement, you used your money to buy a small space in the local mall where you could extend your services to more people. You hired a few of your friends to help you with the business for a few years, and the company was only getting bigger.

It got to the point where you bought yourself your own building, and hired a call center team, IT services, mailroom workers, and a whole fleet of teams who could do the work you were doing back in high school. You named yourself the CEO of Shining Star Jewelry and retired at an early age.

You’re doing pretty well for yourself and you don’t like to hide it. You sit down at your desk and work on answering emails for a couple of hours. Afterward, you’ll make yourself some dinner and take a hot bath while watching your favorite TV show. The first hour goes by quicker than you thought it would, and you look at the time with a yawn. Maybe you can get away with cutting it an hour early.

You’re about to log out of your account when your security cameras pick up something in your backyard. Two men are in your backyard with a big black duffel bag slung over their shoulders with the intention of breaking in and stealing shit. They smash the back door and walk inside your home.

You’re not sure what to do in this situation. Do you hide? Do you run? Do you call someone? Your security alarm is set up to send a silent alarm to the local police if you don’t turn it off, so the police are coming either way. The only problem is, you’re not sure how long it will take them to get here.

Your fight or flight response kicks in and you choose to run in hopes they don’t find you. However, luck isn’t on your side because as soon as you step foot out of your office, both men stand in your way.

“Lookie lookie what we got here,” one of the men says.

They’re both wearing skull bandanas that they have tied over their face so that the only thing showing is their eyes.

“Take anything you want. Please don’t hurt me,” you beg.

“Tie her up,” one of them says.

The bigger man grabs your arm harshly and yanks you into your office. He takes out some rope, duct tape, and zip ties that will be used to subdue you. You have no clue if you’re going to lose your life, get raped, get injured, or whatever they have planned. Instead of fleeing like your body is telling you to do, you allow the man to do whatever he wants to do to you in hopes that he doesn’t hurt or kill you. He ties your ankles together with zip ties, your wrists are tied with rope very tightly, the zip ties your ankles to your wrists so you can’t use your hands, and duct tape is wrapped around your eyes and mouth so you’re forced to breathe through your nose.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go. A place as nice as this must have good security alarms. The police will be here any minute.”

Both men leave you alone in your office to wonder what they’re taking and where they are. You have a lot of nice expensive shit everywhere that they can make a lot of money off of, but there is so much of it that they can’t possibly take it all before the police come.

Twenty agonizing minutes later, you hear police sirens outside your house. You’re not sure if the two men are gone, and if they are, you hope your cameras caught which way they went. Two officers knock on your front door to check if you’re alright. You try screaming as loud as you can but the duct tape is preventing you from making a lot of noise.

“Check around back,” one of the officers say.

Both of them split up to see if there is any disturbances only to meet at the back door which is shattered with glass all over the ground.

“NYPD! We’re coming inside!”

Both of them train their guns in front of them as they walk inside. They stick together and sweep each room one by one until they get to your office. They walk in and aim their guns at you thinking you’re one of the intruders.

“Shit,” the first officer curses and holsters his gun. He kneels next to you and takes the duct tape off first. “You’re okay, Miss. We’re here to help.”

“I couldn’t fight back,” you cry. “I am so scared.”

“I understand. Robles, help me with the zip ties.”

Both officers remove you from your ties. They didn’t kill you. Why? Paramedics come so they can check you out while more officers come to gather intel on what items the burglars stole, where they went, and who they could be. After the paramedics clear you, a female officer sits down with you in your living room.

“I know you must be scared out of your mind, but do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

“No.”

“Okay. Do you remember what the intruders looked like?”

“They had masks covering their face. I could only see their eyes. They were wearing skull bandanas around their faces. One was really big. He’s the one who shoved me into my office. The other one was really skinny. I probably weigh more than him,” you scoff. A look of realization comes over the officer’s face. “What?”

“Excuse me.”

She gets up and walks over to another officer. She whispers to him but the sound carries over to you so you’re able to hear her.

“Call the FBI. They’ve struck again.”

You’re not sure what’s going on or why the FBI needs to come here for two people stealing shit but you have no choice but to wait for them to arrive. They’re coming from Quantico, Virginia which is only an hour by plane. Three agents go to your house while the rest are set up in the NYPD station.

“Agents, thank you for coming.” You look to the left and see the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. Blonde hair, slim, and from what you can tell blue eyes. “I’m Detective Faulkner.”

“I’m Agent Hotchner. These are Agents Jareau and Morgan.”

“You told me over the phone that this matches the other crime scenes?”

“Yes. My men found Miss Y/N in her office with duct tape over her mouth and eyes with rope and zip ties. The intruders wore skull bandanas. I read through the files that they’ve been hitting houses up and down the coastline, right?”

Two men have been hitting rich houses and stealing billions of dollars worth of things. They don’t kill their victims, but it’s suspected that they sell the items and use the money for their trafficking business.

“Yes.” JJ’s eyes look over at you and you look away to prevent her from seeing your blush. “Is this her?”

“Yes. She’s pretty shaken up.”

“I got it,” JJ says to her team and walks to you alone. “May I sit?”

“Please.”

“My name is Jennifer Jareau. I’m with the FBI.”

You’re still scared and traumatized at what happened to you, but you’re not going to let her know. She is too gorgeous to worry about you crying. Her eyes are bluer up close and her cheeks are rosy which comes from a natural tint rather than makeup blush.

“Jennifer? That’s a beautiful name. It’s suiting,” you flirt.

“Thank you,” she blushes deeper. “Can you walk me through what happened?”

You tell her exactly what you told the female officer earlier.

“After they tied me up, all I kept thinking was this is it. This is when I’m gonna die. I haven’t had time to look through my things but I had some pretty valuable items, most of which can be replaced. Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“That these men have been doing this to a lot of other people?”

“Yes. They only hit victims who have millions to billions of dollars to their name, and they just so happen to strike in the richest city in America.”

“Yeah, I try to have the best security defenses but sometimes that doesn't even stop people.”

“We’re going to work hard in catching these guys and returning your items back to you,” she promises.

“Well, I appreciate that.” She moves her long hair out of the way to reveal she has a sparking diamond necklace on. That twinkle can only be found in one place, and you smile flirtatiously. “That necklace is beautiful.”

“Thank you. I got it for my birthday last year.”

“I knew I recognized it. I designed it. It makes your eyes sparkle.”

“You have good taste, then,” she blushes.

“Beautiful jewelry for a beautiful woman.”

JJ can’t help but smile at your compliment. She has to admit, she was taken aback by your beauty when she first saw you. You’re a victim on a case she’s working so she can’t pursue you but after the case… you never know.

JJ and her team work tirelessly to capture the two unsubs before they move on to the next state. They’ve been hitting one or two big houses in each city, only choosing two cities in each state, and they’re moving across state lines which is why the FBI is involved. They normally deal with serial killers and psychopaths, never really touching on serial burglars. You’re the first person in this city to have been hit, so they’re going to hit one more person before moving to the next big city in New York.

After the police left, you tried to go back to your everyday life without possession of your things, but you tried. The press got hold of the story pretty quickly so your PR team is working endlessly to try and get behind the story before your name is dragged through the mud. You’re on your way out the door when you get a call from an unknown number.

“This is Y/N,” you answer.

“Hi, it’s Jennifer from the FBI.”

“Oh, to what do I owe the pleasure?” you smile.

“Do you mind coming down to the station right now? It’s about the robbery.”

You don’t have to look at the time to know you always have time for her.

“Of course. I’m on my way.” You drive straight to the police station which is only a ten-minute drive. You walk inside and greet one of the officers. “I’m here to see Agent Jareau.”

“Y/N, I’m glad you could make it,” JJ smiles.

“I wasn’t busy. What did you need me for?”

“We realize the burglars are going to be hitting another house soon, and we need your help locating some people.”

“Do I get to work with you?”

“If you’d like.”

“No offense to the others, but they’re not as pretty as you are,” you wink. JJ blushes once again at your compliment and leads you to an empty conference room. “So, when you mean ‘some people’ do you mean ‘rich people’? As in, do I keep in touch with any other rich folk in the city?”

“Yeah,” she says sheepishly.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I actually like to keep a record of all of my competitors in the area including who has enough money to overthrow my company.”

“I don’t think that can happen. Your jewelry is one-of-a-kind.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Jennifer, but there are a lot of people who seem to think they can outshine me.”

“Right. Who’s on your list?”

“This list is gonna cost you. Would it be too much if I asked you to go grab coffee with me? You know, like a date?” JJ’s mouth opens and closes as she tries to search for an answer. Her pale skin darkens deliciously, making you think if the rest of her skin is the same way. “I’m sorry but you’re gorgeous. When I see something I like, I grab it before someone else does.”

“Look, I’m flattered you asked me on a date, but I don’t think it would be very professional since I am working on your case. It would raise suspicions to my boss, and I don’t want to ruin anything for anyone.”

“Completely understandable. What about after?”

“We’ll talk then,” she smiles.

You give her the list of every known millionaire and billionaire in the area that you have numbers for. If someone has money, you make it your business to know who they are. The list is handed to their technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, to see if she can narrow down the very long list. The list you have in New York City alone is over seven hundred residents who are targets for this duo-team.

With Penelope’s help, that number is drastically decreased to less than fifty using the parameters they are searching for. The FBI and NYPD work on calling every person on that short list to make sure they know what’s going on and how they’re a potential target. All of them answer but one, and that’s the one that the FBI is going after thinking the two unsubs are going there.

From what you gathered, they were in the middle of a heist with bags of jewels, cash, and other expensive items when the FBI and NYPD showed up. They’re not killers but they don’t like to be cornered. If they really do work for a trafficking ring, being caught is worse than being dead, so they decided to shoot their way out.

One of them died and the other was apprehended and arrested.

They haven’t had time to sell any of the possessions they stole while in New York, so all of your items were returned back to you. Your PR team used this to your advantage to make this seem like a happy ending for you in the eyes of society. If the public can sympathize with you, then you won’t face backlash for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with.

It isn’t fair but that’s the way the world is.

JJ escorted you back home when you told her you didn’t feel safe going back there alone. She took this as an opportunity to be alone with you knowing it’s why you asked her to take you home in the first place.

“I appreciate you taking me home,” you say when she walks you up the stairs to your front door.

“I didn’t want you to feel unsafe.”

“I want you to know I will be working with my team to increase security here so we don’t have this issue again. Though, it’s such a shame to see you go. I thought we were having fun.”

“We were,” she smiles.

“Here, take this.” You reach into your purse and grab one of your business cards and a pen. You scribble your personal phone number on it since your cards only have your business phone number. “I can work remotely anywhere in the world or not at all. It’d be a real tragedy if I never got to see you again. I hear Virginia is nice this time of year. I’d love to take you out.”

“I’d like that, too.”

“Call me.” You open your front door and step inside. “Or if you have some time right now, would you like to come in for some coffee?”

She looks at her watch and shrugs.

“I got some time,” she smiles and steps inside.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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hockeynoses · 2 months

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Sick!Steve: A College AU, Part 2

Summary: A sequel to this fic. Steve is sick again. This time he's in class with Eddie, but they don't know each other yet. Eddie has the fetish and it's from his POV. This is set in the Spring semester, following the last fic which was in the Fall.

Warnings: Mess, contagion. 3.2k words.

Notes: I finally finished it! I started this last July and let it sit for far too long. It's one of my favorites that I've written in a while.

I imagine the professor to look like Jaime Cam/il from Schm/igadoon, but that's neither here nor there. The snippets of his lecture are directly taken from the Wikipedia entry on the Renaissance.

One tiny scene was inspired by this post by gemsden.

I hope you all enjoy! 💖

~*~

At five minutes to the hour, Eddie strolls into class as though he has all the time in the world. He’s learned from years of being punctually challenged that it’s easier to fly under the radar if you don’t appear rushed and frazzled when you make your entrance. There are only a few seats left in the large lecture hall, and they’re all up at the front. Reluctantly, he chooses one on the very end of the curved row, the seats in the hall forming a semi-circle that fan out like those ancient Greek theaters the professor had mentioned last week.

World History 101 – the most basic of basic history classes. Almost everyone here, Eddie included, is taking it as a required core class. But it isn’t the worst thing in the world; Eddie makes a game of it, searching for little tidbits he can add to his D&D games when he’s in need of inspiration.

The eye-candy isn’t half bad either. The professor, Mr. Smith, is actually pretty hot. Dark hair, a well-trimmed beard, glasses… Eddie can get on board. And halfway through his lecture, without fail, he’d take off his suit-jacket, loosen his tie, and roll up his sleeves, drawing the undivided attention of half the class. Aged to perfection, he can’t be more than in his early 40s, his hair just starting to get that salt and pepper color to it.

Unfortunately, he’s also known for being kind of a hardass. One of those guys with lots of chili peppers on RateMyProfessor, tempered by lots of comments about what a stickler he is for the rules.

The doors at the top of the hall open just as the professor is about to get started, and Eddie looks up.

Speaking of eye-candy, he thinks. It’s the guy that he’s had his eye on for half the semester. Hot-prof doesn’t hold a candle to this guy. Steve. The name floats through his mind and his heart gives a little kick.

He hasn’t managed to talk to him yet, or even figure out how to covertly snag a seat near him. This class is pretty much just lectures and tests, no group projects – which doesn’t offer a lot of openings for an introduction. Eddie only knows his first name because he’d heard Mr. Smith use it once or twice. He may be an asshole about the rules, but he does try to learn their names. As much as one can with a class of 100+ students.

Steve hurries down the steps to the first row of seats. The only open desk is in the dead center, about 10 feet away from Mr. Smith’s podium.

“Shit,” Steve says under his breath, looking embarrassed. Eddie’s glad he’s not in his shoes. Even though he’s in the front row himself, he’s somewhat hidden off to the side. The curvature of the row gives him a great view of Steve without it being obvious he’s looking at him.

The professor greets Steve with a firm nod as Steve sits and pulls his notebook out of his backpack, settling in. Eddie sees his nose scrunch up in a sniff. Probably just from the run over here to make it on time.

“Welcome, everyone,” Mr. Smith pulls up a PowerPoint on the screen behind him, “Today’s lesson is going to cover the Renaissance, which is a period in time ranging from the 1400s to the 1600s. The Renaissance was a cultural movement that profoundly affected European intellectual life in the early modern period.”

A sound crackles through the air, and Eddie’s eyes snap back to Steve. He’s got his face buried in a tissue, eyes closed, blowing his nose for all he’s worth. Heat sparks to life low in Eddie’s belly. Oh god…is he-?

Mr. Smith shoots Steve a look over his glasses, waiting for him to finish. Steve sighs and swipes at his nose, managing to find a dry section of the ruined tissue. When he notices the professor’s gaze, he looks sheepish and whispers, “Sorry.”

Steve hides the crumpled tissue away in a pocket of his backpack and then pulls out a fresh one from – Is that a fucking car pack of Kleenex? Eddie wonders. Leave it to pretty-boy Steve to go out and buy the perfect size tissue box to fit in his backpack. Eddie would’ve just brought a roll of toilet paper.

With a nose that beautiful, he deserves the best, he can’t stop himself from thinking. Then he chastises himself for being so gone on this guy. He focuses back on his own notes, or rather, the doodle he’s already started, and tries not to be too much of a creep.

Mr. Smith drones on for several minutes, punctuated every so often by Steve’s wet sniffles. Eddie can see him rubbing the bridge of his nose out of the corner of his eye. He wonders if the whole class can hear him – auditoriums are designed to carry sound, after all – or if Eddie’s just hyper-aware.

The sniffles turn ominous, and Steve reaches for a tissue just as his breath starts to hitch. He holds it at the ready, splayed over both hands, inches from his face.

“Ha... ehh…hih…hih’AEESSHH’IUE!” The sneeze bursts from him as he snaps forward and buries his face in the waiting tissue. The sound ricochets throughout the room and lightning pulses through Eddie’s veins, white-hot. Oh fuck.

“’Scuse be,” Steve mumbles, his eyes glazed over as he snuffles up the loosened congestion.

Jesus, he’s actually really sick, Eddie thinks, his own elation at the sight at war with the pity he feels for the guy.

Mr. Smith gives a small, put-upon sigh. “Where was I? Oh yes - The unique political structures of Italy during the Late Middle Ages have led some to theorize that its unusual social climate allowed the emergence of a rare cultural efflorescence.”

Now that Eddie knows for sure that Steve is sick, it’s a struggle to keep his eyes off him. He doesn’t want to miss a moment; his gaze darts across the room without his permission, tracking every movement of those busy hands, the fluttering eyes, the flaring nostrils.

As the minutes tick by, anticipation curls warm through Eddie’s gut. Steve is holding a Kleenex in his hand, wiping his nose with it as subtly as he can, forced to breathe through his mouth due to the congestion that has taken up permanent residence deep in his sinuses.

Eddie wonders how long he’s been sick. If these are brand new symptoms or if he’s been suffering for the better part of a week. He looks contagious as hell, red nose constantly dripping into the tissue that he presses to his septum. Eddie feels for the students who were unlucky enough to sit next to him, but he would also happily take their place.

His thoughts are interrupted by a hitch in Steve’s breath, no doubt building to something more obscene and uncontrolled than the first go-round.

“Ehh… Oh god, haa-… hih-EETSSHHOO! Ha’AEESHHah! Uhh…huh…ITTSCHHuh!” He groans, low and pained. “Oh bmy god. SNF. Sorry.” Eddie watches as Steve holds the destroyed tissue to his nose while fumbling in his bag for a fresh one. There’s no way that abused tissue contained all those haphazard sneezes. If the students next to him have to sit through an entire hour of that, they’re definitely screwed. Hell, Mr. Smith is probably screwed too, being directly in front of him, albeit several feet away.

“Are you quite finished?” Mr. Smith says primly.

“Ugh.” Steve gives a liquid sniffle and swipes under his nose with his bare hand. “I hobe so.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie is going to pop a semi in the middle of class. He slides his jacket off - it’s getting fucking hot in here anyway - and sets it over his lap.

The professor clears his throat and continues. “As I was saying, one theory is that the devastation in Florence caused by the Black Death, which hit Europe between 1348 and 1350, resulted in a shift in the world view of people in 14th century Italy.”

“Ha….HA’EHSSHHOO!” Steve’s whole body shakes with the strength of the sneeze, drenching his fistful of Kleenex. Oblivious to the teacher’s glare, Steve’s eyes flutter, his brows inching higher and higher with each sharp inhale, fighting against the prickling itch deep in his nose that’s begging for release.

“Italy was particularly badly hit by the plague,” Mr. Smith continues, pausing to direct a stern, pointed look at Steve. “And it has been speculated that the resulting familiarity with death caused thinkers to dwell more on their lives on Earth, rather than on spirituality and the afterlife.”

“Huh-ITTSSH’IEW!” The relentless barrage continues, Steve struggling helplessly against it. “uh…huh’GGKSSHH’IUE!”

Eddie stares, entranced. He can hear how wet they are, thick with mess that’s barely contained in the clump of increasingly soggy tissues Steve’s got a death grip on. Eddie gets another glimpse of Steve’s disobedient nose - pink, wet, and sore - as he pulls back from the tissues with a wobbly inhale, clearly not done. A flush darts up Eddie’s neck, his toes curling in his sneakers.

“It has also been argued that the Black Death prompted a new wave of piety, manifested in the sponsorship of religious works of art.” Mr. Smith soldiers on, agitation clear in his voice. “However, this does not fully explain why the Renaissance occurred specifically in Italy in the 14th centu-”

“Ahh…ihh…hih…HIH’EERRRSHH’IUE!” The last one tears through Steve in the middle of an attempt to grab a new batch of tissues. He curls into himself, unleashing the spraying sneeze across his lap and part of his desk. There’s a visible sheen on his cupid’s bow that he desperately swipes at with the back of his hand.

“Steve!” Mr. Smith says sharply. “I do not appreciate these interruptions!”

“I’b sigk, dude!” Steve argues, as if that isn’t obvious by the gurgling, cold-ridden noseblow that immediately follows. His features are a tired mix of annoyance and embarrassment.

“Please don’t call me dude, Steve.” Mr. Smith pins him with a flat look, clearly exasperated but unwilling to kick him out just yet. Steve glares at him.

“I’b sigk, professor – hih…ha’AESSHH’IEW!” The sneeze erupts from Steve, forceful and clearing. He puts much less effort into covering this one, holding the tissue inches away from his face and releasing a huge, spraying sneeze openly down onto it. Eddie can see the escaped stray droplets misting the air.

This motherfucker better not make me come in my pants, I swear to god, Eddie thinks as he adjusts himself, trying to find some kind of relief. He feels too hot in his own skin.

The students nearest Steve are leaning away from him in mounting horror, trapped without any open seats to flee to.

“If you’re feeling so poorly, why did you come to class today?” Mr. Smith radiates disapproval.

“Idt’s your attendance policy, bman.” Steve scrubs a finger back and forth under his raw nose. “I didn’t thigk it wa-aah…hah–Ha’ERRSHH’IUE!” The sneeze is only half-muffled against his fist, the rest scatters free into the air. “Ugh. Allowed.”

Mr. Smith’s mouth pulls into a frown. “Exceptions can be granted when there are legitimate… health reasons.” He eyes the growing pile of tissues on Steve’s desk with disgust, calculating the odds of how likely he is to catch his cold, no doubt increasing with every one of Steve’s careless, pathetic attempts at covering, with every slimy tissue added to the pile, cluttering up the desk, creating a foreboding minefield of germs.

Steve snorts up the clogged mess in his nose and clears his throat. He’s so congested that even his throat sounds thick with it. Pulling a tissue from his pack, he lays it across his cupped palms, ready, waiting.

“I didn’t thigk this would count. Idt’s just – heh – just a c-cold – Ha’GGSHT’CHUH!” His head snaps forward as he unleashes the sneeze vaguely downwards toward the tissue spread across his hands. Eddie can see the unrestrained spray of it swirling around in the several inches of open air between his agitated, rebellious nose and his hands.

He folds the splattered tissue up to release a crackling blow, so loud that Eddie thinks he must be doing it on purpose. When he’s done, Steve offers a pointed, “’Scuse mbe,” with a telling twist to his lips. Now apparently fully committed to his appearance as a plague rat, he breathes through his mouth, dabbing at his sore, chapped nose with the tattered remnants of the tissue. When he pulls it away, he has no shame – his red, glistening, contagious nose is on full display.

Oh, Eddie likes this one. A buzzy warmth fills him down to his toes, and he has to stop himself from shivering with it. His cock is rock-hard in his jeans. Has anyone ever died of blue balls? he wonders, shifting in his seat.

Rather than hiding it away in his backpack, Steve adds the sodden tissue to the pile on his desk like a challenge, trying to get a rise out of Mr. Smith. The brazen audacity of it is doing nothing to help the heat under Eddie’s skin.

“If you’re ill to the point of being a distraction in class, you should have emailed me, and I would have given my approval,” Mr. Smith says in a tense, clipped voice.

“I didn’t thigk I felt that ba-hah… bad – hih - odn the way over h-here,” he argues, quickly scrambling for a fresh tissue, “but I – huh… I cadn’t stob – ihh… s-sneeziihh… Ha-iih’ERRSSHH’IUE!” His brow furrows with the strength of it, shoulders curling in. He’s crumpled the tissue under his nose, anticipating the sheer amount of mess, which unfortunately leaves his mouth uncovered. The sneeze forces the breath from him in a violent gust that causes the used tissues on his desk to flutter and threaten to topple over the edge.

Eddie’s pulse jumps and he almost snaps his pencil in half, tapping his foot on the ground in an effort to not shake out of his skin with want. He tries not to openly stare as Steve pulls back the Kleenex from his face, having to pinch off the mess that still clings to him, wiping the spit from his lips with his other hand.

“Ugh, what a bmess.” Steve says, really playing it up. “Sorry. I’b trying to stob but they’re too strogg.”

“I can see that,” Mr. Smith grinds the words out between his teeth.

“I thigk I’b really contagious.” Steve presses the tissue to the underside of his tender, dripping nose. “I already godt all of mby roobmates sihh-sigk. Heh…Huh-HA’IIGGGHHH’SHOO! Ughhh. Trust mbe, you don’t want this…” He punctuates his warning with a truly miserable-sounding noseblow.

“I agree. We don’t need you getting the whole class sick.” Mr. Smith takes a few careful steps back, looking like he’d rather be running from the room entirely. “You can get the notes from one of your classmates.”

“Are you s-sure?” His nostrils flair and he cups a hand several inches from his face in a sluggish attempt to cover another impending outburst. “ihh – hih’iiiiGGHH’shue!” It scrapes from his throat, the last syllable drawn out into a pained exhale.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Mr. Smith says. Having reached the end of his rope, he points to the door. “Go. Before you infect us all with your pestilence.”

Satisfied, Steve gathers his things, touching them all with his germy hands in the process. The used tissues are scooped up and crammed into an open pocket in his backpack. The car-pack of tissues stays out. Clinging to it like a lifeline, Steve pulls two fresh ones from the cylinder.

“Thaggs, professor.” He quickly bunches the tissues to his face, his chest heaving with every hitch of his breath. “ahh… hiiiih… Hih’AAIIGH’shoo! SNF. I’ll see you next weegk.”

With that, he turns and makes his way up the stairs, pausing every few steps to shudder with a wrenching sneeze, barely contained in his damp fistful of Kleenex. Now that he’s not even trying to control them, it seems he’s completely at their mercy, pitching forward in several small fits, trying to cover as much ground as he can between them until he finally makes it to the door. Fumbling the clump of tissues into his pocket, he pulls at the door handle, finally making his escape into the hallway as an awkward hush settles over the rest of the class.

Mr. Smith attempts a joke and tries to refocus everyone’s attention. Eddie doesn’t hear any of it. His head feels all floaty and he’s trying not to come in his pants. That was insane. He blinks, trying to shake himself out of it.

By the time he’s managed to bring himself back to reality, Mr. Smith is making a show of marking off Steve’s excused absence. “Steve Harrington,” he announces as he notes it down, enunciating clearly as if to let the entire class know who’s to blame when half of them come down with this cold from hell.

Harrington. Something clicks in Eddie’s mind at that. Chrissy’s knowing smile flashes through the haze. A months-old memory washes over him in waves – she was telling him about some guy she made friends with in class… going on and on about him. About how one time he’d shown up for class sick as a dog, and how she wished Eddie could have been there - he’s just his type. She had wanted to introduce them.

At the time, Eddie’s interest had been piqued, how could it not? But this guy sounded like a Grade-A jock, and although he trusted Chrissy, Eddie dating a jock went against practically every facet of the Munson Doctrine. He had filed it directly under “Never Gonna Happen” in his brain, and they’d both forgotten about it, buried in finals, before heading off for winter break.

Since then, Chrissy might’ve mentioned her and Steve meeting up for coffee once or twice since they didn’t have a class together this semester, but her hopes of introducing them got lost in the throes of a busy Spring semester. If Eddie had known this was Chrissy’s Steve – a bit of a jock, sure, but still sweet and smart and with sneezes straight out of Eddie’s wildest fantasies – he sure as fuck would’ve made that introduction more of a priority.

Fuck. Now Eddie has to see if there’s still a shot. If Chrissy was going to introduce them, that means there’s a slim chance Steve might be into him, right? He’s going to text her as soon as class gets out and tell her he’s seen the light.

Eddie wonders if he could give Steve his notes from class. Didn’t the professor say something about that? Yeah, he’ll get his number from Chrissy, then bring him the notes… maybe some tea…

Shit, he’s got to get ahold of himself.

For once in his life, Eddie tries to take flawless notes. He’s only partially successful. It’s almost impossible to focus with replays of Steve’s little spectacle parading through his head. And if that wasn’t distracting enough, he can’t stop himself from imagining scenes from their future together like some kind of lovesick fool. He taps his pencil to the page, daring to hope.

He’ll start with notes and some tea.

#snzblr #snz fic #snzfic #snz fics #snzfics #cw: contagion #st/eve ha/rrington

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