chicken soup for the gay soul

parker rounded the corner of the building, headphones blasting a new song she was planning on sneaking into the lineup on her next show. all but tuning out her surroundings, she looked up just in time to see a giant bug land on another girl’s face. she screamed and slapped the girl without thinking, the bug flying away before her hand made contact. “shit,” she hissed, watching it fly away, the bug taunting her very existence. “okay, i swear i’m usually a lot faster with my hands. that bug should’ve been jam. but ⁠— y’know, sorry for slapping you and all. i did what i had to do.” | @alexisclopez​

parker pouted at the book set in front of her, the words jumbling the longer she stared at them. “can we pleeeeeease have a study break? it’s been like ⁠— ten hours.” it had only, in fact, been maybe thirty minutes, but parker was nothing if not hyperbolic. “i’ll give you a back massage. i’m really good at those. it, like, runs in my family or whatever. we’re just really, really good with our hands. take that as innuendo-y as you will.” she had nothing else to offer leo but her cute smile, and that wasn’t gonna fly when parker had basically begged for parkeo time, no matter what the activity. “okay, fine, ten more minutes. if my eyeballs don’t fall out of my head before then, that is.” | @leoalcrights​

“okay, verdict?” she asked, smoothing out her new thrift store find as she stood in the mirror just outside the dressing room. as far as she could tell, the dress fit her every curve in the best ways, but one’s own eyes could be deceiving. she spun back towards pip, just exiting her own dressing room. “does this ⁠— ” she stopped, jaw dropping slightly. “damn, you look hot,” she said, letting out a low, appreciative whistle. “anyway, does this dress show enough ass? too much ass? not enough?” she spun around to show her, booty tooching as miss tyra taught her. “the public needs to appreciate me in all my fabul-ass glory.” | @penclopes​

parker: listen don't tempt me, i fully support mental breakdowns while still being a concerned friend who will make sure u don't actually DIE

parker narrowed her eyes at her best friend, mad that her bluff had been seen through so easily. though, what did she expect, really? ellie knew her better than she knew herself. she was seconds away from caving when ellie spotted her last trap: the peanut m&m’s. a scholar of ellie aldenkamp, parker knew the one way to her heart should all of her usual methods fail. sneaky? yeah. out of love? absolutely. effective? always. she nuzzled ellie’s head, content smile on her lips. she turned her head just slightly to place a quick peck to the top of ellie’s head. “we’re golden,” she crooned, fingers groping around for the remote so as to not give ellie a chance to move away from her again. finding it at the end of her reach, she let out a noise of triumph and pulled up netflix, queueing up the movie in question. “the things i’d do to both young meg ryan and young tom hanks.”

proximity had her breathing him in, and his touch ⁠— as light and coincidental as it may have been ⁠— felt electric. she wasn’t gonna let him win that easily, though; a guy like him was probably used to low effort, and she’d made people much less attractive work much, much harder to get her. still, a dance was exactly what she wanted ⁠— publicly acceptable foreplay. she gave him a coy smile and slipped off the stool ⁠— even in her heels, he was so much taller that her head tipped almost all the way back to look up at him. dancing might be more of a challenge than she originally thought, but she’d make it work. besides, she didn’t have to be eye level with him for the other activities she had in mind. she gently took his hand, shooting him a wink. “right this way, stud.” she pulled him along to the dance floor, stopping in the very center where she was always meant to reside. she spun around to face him, hands falling to his chest and trailing down, down, tracing over every inch of hardened muscle her fingers could find. her head tilted back to meet his eyes again, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of his shirt. “show me what you got,” she called out over the music, teasing smirk on her lips.

a deep flush took over her face, her eyes narrowing at him as she resisted the urge to slap his hand away. the alcohol coursing through her veins made her less careful than she usually tried to be, and her hand found his shirt and gripped it tightly. “i get all dressed up for myself, thank you very much; you’re just lucky enough to get the benefits from my own vanity.” god, he was hot ⁠— or maybe just tall, but if she could climb them like a tree, they were just parker’s type. teeth sank into her bottom lip, hand releasing his shirt and traveling down his chest and fingers tracing every abdominal muscle. “you better not; i wore my favorite set tonight, and they look good.”

mornings were when parker got her real workouts in; the nighttime runs with tanner were just for fun. she was nowhere near as dedicated as a lot of other athletes ⁠— something her coach and trainers gave her shit about constantly ⁠— which was why the fun runs had become so ingrained into her schedule. it was a compromise in her mind, and an excuse to not go to the gym for a single day. she deserved some fun too, didn’t she? her ears perked up as tanner’s voice carried through the cool night air, and she jogged in place as she spun around to face him. “you getting soft on me, isaacs?” she grimaced at the words, jogging back towards him. “ah, shit, i’m starting to sound like grey. please push me into the lake; i’m begging you,” she joked, still marching in place to keep her heart rate up. “do you wanna keep going, or should we just head back? i can totally carry you back if you pass out, but i don’t exactly want to, y’know?”

“another word out of you, and it’s the last pseudo-compliment you’ll ever get.” at least, the last one he’d get out loud. as much shit as she gave him, parker considered grey to be one of the people closest to her. was it because he reminded her a little of her brothers? maybe, but her brothers were also giant pains in her ass. she soaked up his words, gears turning in her head and hand flexing as she absorbed the note. baseball was the thing she was best at because she knew how to make the corrections, but sometimes it was hard to see the problem without outside eyes. “okay,” she said, nodding and taking the ball from him again. “maybe put on a helmet before i let them start flying. you know, just in case.” 

“that sounds like a truly awful idea. i can barely take care of myself and you want me to take care of you, too??? outrageous. i have more a fun aunt vibe, anyway.”

“definitely. i have a lucky piece of every kind of clothing, and ellie is my good luck charm, too. she hasn’t missed any of my games because i won’t let her. and, y’know, there’s the whole no-hitter i fucked up because someone didn’t show up. also, ghosts are real and we’re not alone in this universe.” | @elliealdenkamp

“hell no! have you seen me? i’m a fucking masterpiece.”