feldspar-thethief

[feldspar-thethief]

hi friends!! no fancy posts but new multi blog is up!! not 100% ready!! but i wanna go ahead and start following everyone back over there!!

x

[feldspar-thethief]

#craig's aesthetic; black cat coded #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

Craig stared down at Tweek. One hand was preoccupied with a half-empty, restaurant-style carafe of coffee. He set it down on the table, in front of but just off to the side of Tweek’s cup. A bit of a peace offering, but also– He was tired of coming over to the booth to check on him. His boss had already politely asked Craig to escort the man off the premises, if he wasn’t going to purchase an actual meal. ‘We have enough coffee drinkers takin’ up tables, as it is.’ He knew whether or not the blonde had the money to choose something from the menu, he wasn't going to make the decision. Seemingly content to sip mediocre brew and remain a thorn in Craig's paw. Devoid of the hope that he would be able to convince the seated man to order something, Craig set down the plate he had carried over in his other hand. The small, hard, white plastic dish clattered against the varnished wood of the tabletop. 

He fucking hated that he had to pick up a second job in the first place, even if it was just temporary. This encounter was proverbial salt in the wound. His eyes raised and he stared vacantly out of the frosted window to the other's left. The clouds rolling were more gray than in the morning when he had arrived. Despite the matching pallidness, the sky was bright enough to hurt Craig's eyes the longer he remained wistfully fixed on the outside world. He blinked, ending the dissociative state that nearly consumed him. How was Tweek still his problem?

“No, I don’t think I ever did," he muttered. He regretted even making the initial comment. It had been meant to soften the blow of ejecting the rail-thin man from the restaurant. Well, that wasn't exactly true either– Craig had selfishly grumbled the remark to himself, but clearly loud enough for Tweek to pick up the sound of the words. To what end? Maybe making himself appear to be less of the asshole that he knew he inherently was? He certainly missed the mark, and now was trapped by the rambling lunatic at Table 3. 

The conversation had gone on longer than he had ever intended and he could feel his manager's eyes like nails driving into the back of his skull. "Sorry if this isn't as good as your mom's banana bread, but pretend to pick at it or get the hell out of here. And stop talking about guns where everyone else can hear, okay?" 

The plate was nothing special; two pieces of raisin toast and a tiny, individually-packed tab of butter for each. Craig reached into one of the three pockets on the front of black, server's apron tied around his hips and produced a fresh roll of flatware. And the carafe remained, as well.

▸   @feldspar-thethief   ⟶   ❛  ❛  you can miss something but not want it back.  ❜ ((craig to tweek :3 ))  ❜   ╱   (  various , accepting .  )

“Yeah,” Tweek said, smiling somewhat dreamily at the steam coming off his coffee.  “She made some really great banana bread, my mom—I mean, really great.  And her scones, too; I wish I could make them like she does.”  It had been ages since he properly baked something, and he wished he could get back into it, but he would probably be so rusty that the results would be middling at best.

He chuckled and turned soft olive eyes on Craig.  “I’ve thought about going back just to get a decent meal.”  Sometimes, when he was really hungry, he thought about that banana bread hard enough that he could almost trick himself into thinking he was really eating it, but he had long learned not to voice that kind of delusional shit around Craig if he could help it.

“I would never actually, obviously, but sometimes I wish I’d stolen some of her recipe cards instead of Dad’s gun.  Fat load of good they would’ve done me, though,” he noted, shaking his head, “considering I don’t even have a stove.  I’ve gotten a lot more accomplished with the gun.”  Very little good had been accomplished with Richard’s revolver, but Tweek was alive at any rate.

“Did you ever have some of my mom’s bread?  I don’t remember if I ever saw you eat it.”  His smile became more sheepish, bordering on apologetic.  “But my memory’s pretty imperfect.”  He had crawled into bed at fifteen and then found himself standing in the back room of Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse three years later with only the haziest recollection of how he got there.  As soon as knowledge of his age set in, he resolved to leave.

#troublcmakcrs #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

#craig's aesthetic; black cat coded #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

Craig took a seat on the pavement, however he kept his distance from Tweek. A few feet of obvious separation, but he leveled the field and stopped lording over the other man. He had read somewhere about conflict resolution and not standing over someone while you talk to them. An apparent power move, and Craig didn’t have the energy for a battle right then. He even wasn’t sure how much that particular tidbit of advice would aid him, or even make a difference at all. Well, he was sure Tweek would have some kind of reaction regardless. The taller man huffed as the cold Colorado concrete cooled the meat of his ass cheeks where they rested. He threw an arm over a knee and began to talk at the blonde. He addressed him sidelong, without the courtesy of ever turning his head.

“It’s not funny. Can you actually take something serious for once?” He reached into the front pocket of his jeans to retrieve a crumpled up, half-empty pack of cigarettes. Craig had been “trying” to stop, obviously with great success. “You’re fucking aggravating,” he scoffed and popped the brown filter between his lips. He fumbled around for his lighter, and as he did, he continued to speak. “Your parents suck. Everyone knows that, but you have to stop blaming them, too.” 

Craig patted his jacket, sifted through his pockets, and even searched the ground around where he had taken his seat. Fuck. He sighed a long, exasperated breath. The heat from his lungs condensed in front of his face. He wished clouds had been the smoke of a first drag of a fresh cigarette. The dark haired man finally swiveled his head in Tweek’s direction, about to ask a very dubious question.

“Before this gets too deep, do you have a lighter?”

▸   @feldspar-thethief   ⟶   ❛  [craig to tweek]; you aren’t a good person.  ❜   ╱   (  midnight mass , accepting .  )

Tweek laughed darkly, one of those ‘it’s funny because it’s true in the worst conceivable way’ utterances.  He peered up at Craig from his seat on the sidewalk and said, “Tell me something I don’t know.”  He wanted to be good, he wanted so horribly to be good, but he wasn’t, and Craig inspired the excess of darkness in him more prominently than most.

In reality, he understood he wasn’t being fair, that maybe Craig deserved more chances than Tweek was willing to give him.  But it was easy, instinctual, wrapping himself up in some murky, grotesque shroud to secure his freedom.  Nobody would stick him somewhere he didn’t want to be if he was callous and cruel, if he set himself up as a lost cause.  And unfortunately, he felt he had the most to gain by being that way around Craig.

“The apple didn’t fall far from the tree on that one, did it?” he added with a vicious smirk.  He was his parents’ son; he didn’t want to be, but he was.  His mother’s near-impenetrable acting, how she could turn crocodile tears on and off at will and make her doe eyes shine like there had never been a single thought behind them, much less a conniving one.  His father’s effortlessly calculated machinations, his ability to obfuscate his actions behind his words.  Tweek despised them, but he learned their lessons well, and they had become some of his most useful assets.  He was doing it now—acting, lying, trying to sell Craig on a hatred that stopped existing years ago just to suit his own agenda.

He knocked back the rest of his coffee, then occupied himself with picking away at the adhesive on the cup’s sleeve.  “My only regret is that it ever once seemed like I was pretending to be.”

#troublcmakcrs #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

Craig’s eyebrow arched. He was still pretty new at the school; he had barely spoken to anyone in any of his classes yet. Seeing as he only had a few months left to finish before he would graduate and enter the workforce, the real world– he didn’t quite feel the urge to mingle or “clique up” with any group. Hell, even when he stumbled on the flier, he only thought about the club being a way to pass the time until the end of the year. Regret started to walk him backwards out the door, but he only moved one foot behind him. After all, he wouldn’t call attempting to survey the landscape before making his move an outright interruption, but clearly his presence was unwelcome. His better judgment told him to disengage, to leave. But instead, he opened his mouth again. 

“Pranked? No?” He laughed; the irony being that he was the one to be kind of a dick and bully back at his old school. To think someone would assume him on the opposite end of the stick was quite silly. The tall teen fidgeted with the wad of paper he held between his hands. He glanced down at it and back up again. “I literally found this on the ground. I, uh, the logo caught my eye.” He crushed the poster in one fist and quickly forced it back into the pocket of his faded blue jeans.

“Why are you giving me the third degree? I know how to play the game. I can wait until the next session, if you want.”He paused. “I’m– Craig, by the way.”

@feldspar-thethief

The situation had been confusing from the second the theater room door opened. No one interrupted The Hellfire Club. No because they were super intimidating or anything but because no one gave a shit about a handful of losers and a table game. The door opening like that threw every single member of the club for a loop. It only got more confusing when the guy spoke and said he wasn't lost, that he was actually looking for The Hellfire Club.

"Are you being pranked?" New kid. Eddie knew that much. His weird life mission for his over-extended high school career. Keep an eye out for the outcasts, make sure they're safe. New kids were always outcasts until they found their clique. Eddie recognized new faces and this guy was new. But he didn't look like the kind of guy that would end up at the loser's table so his mind immediately went to the jocks making him do this as a sort of initiation thing. Fucking pricks.

Eddie didn't wait for an answer. He shook his head at his own thoughts. "I'm Eddie. Dungeon Master. Do you play or is this actually a prank?"

#edhellfire #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

❝Not yet. It's on my Steam wish list, though. I actually thought about getting it for the Switch instead.❞

Craig hopped up the hills, losing sight of Henrietta's avatar.

❝I'm kind of on a PC kick right now, but do you Switch? You should visit my island in A-C-N-H sometime.❞ He prattled away while hacking down several trees in quick succession.

Realizing he ignored her question, he blurted his answer, ❝--Aesthetics, by the way.❞

She let out a breath of smoke from her cigarette and headed down into the mines. "I need more lapis so im gonna do down pretty far." She genuinely liked gaming and had a pretty nice set up in her room to do so.

"What are you gonna craft with the trees?" She asked, mining away at some diamonds to take with her.

"Also have you played Dont Starve? I feel like you might like that too."

#haveatime #haveatime; henrietta #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

// hi ppl n frens, i'm working on making a multi-muse sp (and other kid muses) blog, but i will update everyone/post links once it's up and running!! //

#void texting; ooc chats #(( sorry i've been inactive ish on the dash )) #(( i got married and now it's the holiday season lol ))

[feldspar-thethief]

#craig's aesthetic; black cat coded #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

Gonna draw them kissing brb

#ships; dumb and dumber #cryde #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

80s romance music motivated me to draw them

#ships; starboys #creek #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

"We've only put about fifty-four hours of game play into this server. Don't worry you haven't missed much. Follow me this way."

Craig moved the arm of his player character to direct Henrietta's attention.

"There's a pocket of diamond over there, but I really want the acacia trees on top. So I'm going to send you down into the mine. Take whoever you want. There's like three other kids dicking around on the server, too."

@feldspar-thethief continued from here!

Would Henrietta ever admit to liking the game actually? Over her corpse maybe. It just happened to be relaxing. She let out a huff over the mic and started playing. She was good making creative homes in the game. She loved getting the magic aspect also so she did plenty of bookshelves.

"How long have you been playing?" She asked, pretending like she didnt actually give a shit but it was better than just sitting in an awkward silence.

#((SKSKS ur good lol i haven't played in a long time either xD )) #haveatime #haveatime; henrietta #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

Craig stared straight ahead at Stan as the other man rounded out his tense rebuttal. He hadn't meant to cause his smaller doppelganger any distress or anxiety. Mentally, he punted himself in the ass. His expression never flinched. Instead, his steely eyes remained glued to his commiseration pal as he opened his mouth per his turn to speak.

"I know this is going to sound extremely on-brand, coming from me." His voice was thick with sarcasm; he knew Stan was smart enough to understand that what he was about to say was anything but Craig's brand of stoic wisdom. "Sometimes… feeling the shit that hurts you can be a good thing. And, I mean really feel it. I'm not talking about getting upset and then depressed when something breaks your heart–especially if it's something you can't change–and then pickling yourself in a bottle of Jameson." He paused, realizing that his diatribe began to turn into a berating lecture as opposed to helpful insight. Craig sighed. "What I'm trying to say is... be present with the emotion and what caused it. That way the next time he– it comes around, you already have the tools to navigate the situation."

He picked at the chip in the ceramic of the Denny's coffee mug absently while he tried to think if he needed to say anything else. Or if he needed to clarify; did what he say even make sense to the other man listening?

"I know a thing or two about… recurring problems," he said. Without moving his head, Craig glanced up from his cooling, half-eaten pile of potatoes and ketchup and gave Stan a knowing look. "You take the power away from the situation when you can acknowledge what's happening before the other shoe drops." He leaned away from Stan and against the old vinyl padding of the booth seatback, then turned his eyes to the window beside them. He found nothing particularly entertaining out in the parking lot for once.

"I'll be your accountabili-buddy." He smiled.

▸   @feldspar-thethief   ⟶   ❛  let it break your heart.  ❜   ╱   (  after laughter , accepting .  )

Stan laughed wryly at Craig’s suggestion.  He knew the other meant well, that he was trying to be validating in telling Stan to feel whatever he needed to, and he appreciated that thought, but there was a slight problem with it.  Stan shook his head, still with that sardonic smile.  “I tend to make real bad decisions when I do that.”

It had been a combination of Jimbo and Michael that had derailed Stan from his fast track to the gutter.  If it weren’t for them, he’d probably still be drinking too much and lighting things on fire and all kinds of other shit.  He wasn’t rid of all his bad habits—he had Kyle blocked again but didn’t trust himself to keep it that way—but he wasn’t as messed up as he could be.

“Every time I let something break my heart, I end up hitting the bottle too hard,” he confessed with another mirthless chuckle, all tense nerves.  He dropped his eyes into his hands.  “So, it’s better if I don’t.  I usually try to distract myself, so I don’t, like… blow my whole life up.”

#friendscfmine #friendscfmine; stan #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

Craig sucked down a lungful of green dye and vitamin B12. He sputtered and snorted, literally choking. Completely caught off guard by Stan calling himself a slur, or rather– asking a question of clarification that included the slur. Either way, it was really funny. And yeah, really faggy, but also genuine and sweet and so… Stan. 

His nostrils burned as they filled with the rebounding carbonated fluid. He groaned and pinched his nose, running his fingers down the bridge like he could wring out the rest of the offending contents. Only a few drips managed to escape. In one motion, he wiped the snot trail from his septum and the spittle away from the corner of his mouth with the backside of his hand, sloshing the remains of his drink around in the can. The fabric of his sleeve caught slightly on the pieces of jewelry hooked through his nose and lips; a light tugging sensation he had long grown accustomed to. He cleared his throat with a series of short coughs decreasing in severity and saturation.

“Dude! What did I just say? I wasn't joking.” he rasped urgently in the same breath and motion as he jerked his head to one side, sneezing into the crook of his arm in the opposite of Stan’s direction. He grimaced down at the bend of his elbow, seeing the wet debris soaking into the blue fabric.

After he caught his breath, the taller man brought his backwashed beverage to his lips again, but hesitated. He eyed Stan to make sure he wasn’t about to drop another perfectly-timed one liner on him, for a third time.

“And no, you’re a huge faggot for saying that actually.” His own coy smirk betrayed the flat affect of his deadpan tone.

▸   @feldspar-thethief​   ⟶   ❛  don’t make me laugh, i’ll choke.  ❜   ╱   (  after laughter , accepting .  )

Stan grinned triumphantly at his ability to move Craig’s face from the blank expression he usually wore.  “Sorry,” he said without a hint of genuine apology in his voice.  He leaned into Craig’s side and then swayed back again.  “Maybe you should time your drinks better.”  He took a sip of his own energy drink almost smugly, as if demonstrating how much better he was at it.

He didn’t expect hanging out with Craig to be… nearly so nice, easy, so on and so forth.  He had been so jealous of the guy when they were kids, the way everyone thought he was such hot shit.  But he was really cool, and Stan now felt that he had done them both a disservice by disliking Craig solely to be contrarian.

He gazed at Craig for another still moment, beguiled, then he looked quickly away.  “Can I get away with telling you I like your laugh without being called a faggot?”

#friendscfmine #friendcfmine; stan #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

❛ i'm sorry. am i interrupting something? ❜

(from Pete @haveatime )

-> @haveatime [𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 (𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬] -> x

the clattering of computer keys halted suddenly. he rolled his stormy eyes up from his laptop screen. ❝do i fucking look busy?❞

#haveatime #haveatime; pete #craig tucker; ama; answered #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

❛ why did i have to get dragged along for this? ❜

(Have some Henrietta @haveatime )

-> @haveatime [𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 (𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬] -> x

craig adjusted the arm of the mic attached to his headset and shifted in his seat. he glanced to the corner of his computer screen at the tiny window with the fat, goth chick's face in it. ❝i don't know. i posted the server link, you joined it.❞ he looked across the other player displays along the top of his second monitor. everyone else seemed to understand the assignment. mine and craft.

#haveatime #haveatime; henrietta #craig tucker; ama; answered #queue; ample parking day or night

[feldspar-thethief]

friendly reminder that i don't care what your muse does to mine!! kiss them, fight them, throw a drink in their face, hold a knife to their throat.. you don't have to dm me for permission beforehand but please remember that my muse will react accordingly ♡♡ i think pushing limits and pushing buttons is a lot of fun but always keep in mind that they won't just sit there and take it, yanno?

#queue; ample parking day or night