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#Brother sister love
sisterlove2023 · 3 months
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brosislegalmarriage · 21 days
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Real brother and sister kissing
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sleepytenny · 2 months
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Another old collab with @TickingArt . Pandora and Pluto are the best siblings ever, you can't change my mind. ===== Pluto Saturnino (right) © @sleepytenny Pandora Stern (left) & artwork © @sleepytenny & @tickingart  Please do not steal. AI sampling prohibited. ===== Want me to draw for you? My commissions are open!
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1-tuxpixphotos · 1 year
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Mehadi and her older brother Kintan💕
Prince Kintan is about 5 years older and is a dependable and courteous man. Him and Mehadi have a stereotypical “Onii-chan and imoto” relationship. He believes his little sister is the cutest thing ever and she depends on him a little too much.
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unwillingwriter · 4 days
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Unserious [Drake & Josh]
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Pairing (Technically): Drake & Josh (Platonic)
Ages: 18
Summary: Drake Parker is a very unserious person, whether it’s by choice or coincidence which makes people like Josh or Megan want to strangle him. Here are some occurrences of him being such.
A/N: Originally Posted on A03, I do not own Drake and Josh. Rightful owner to the characters and sitcom is Dan Creepy Schneider and Nickelodeon productions.
———
Drake Parker is an unserious person, an unserious person who downplays a lot of things. Whether it’s school and his grades, getting grounded, not remembering a girl of the week name, or importantly her eye color for some reason: seriously what’s so important about remembering such a small thing? Okay, maybe remembering a name isn’t such a small thing… but still! Eye color shouldn’t be that big of a deal in his opinion besides, he did remember Michelle’s eye color! Or was her name Sydney?… no no it was Cassie!
Anyway! Drake's point is!! He did remember her eye color. They were a deep sea blue with small hints of swamp green surrounding the pupil, melting into the blue like oil and water— see he could be poetic— and remember a simple eye color, so he didn’t understand why a cup of soda was dumped onto his head, for!.
“You’re wrong,” Josh says after making a buzzer sound that mocks one from a game show when the contestant says the incorrect answer. He sounded eerily close to one that Drake thought he had a buzzer under the counter that he was wiping down with a rag.
Drake squints at his brother as he picks apart his sticky hair, wincing when he seems to rip apart a knot that somehow formed, streaks of dried orange crush coloring his face.
“How am I wrong?” Drake asked, wiping his face with a damp paper towel Josh kindly gave him with his signature half smirk he gets when something happens to Drake. Only small things, of course, Josh isn’t a sadist. Aside from the doom buggy accident— but he wasn’t happy about the fact that he got hurt he was happy and excited about the endless possibility of Drake getting in trouble with Audrey and Walter. But of course that blew up in his face and had to take care of Drake for two weeks.
“First of all, her name isn’t any of those. Her name was Rochelle and second of all her eyes were green” Josh replies as he stacks the candy in an orderly fashion.
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Drake says in a Duh tone, finishing up with cleaning his face and looking at the orange stain that seeped into the paper towel.
Josh stops stacking, looking towards his brother with a raised brow.
“What?” Drake questions.
“Do I still have soda streaks on my face?” he continues, touching his face in search of a sticky substance. Josh shakes his head at Drake, in both disappointment and amusement.
Drake never fails to amaze him.
“No, you still got stupid all over your face though,” He says with a shrug.
“Oh okay,” Drake smiles, then frowns.
“Hey!” He squeaks out, voice cracking.
Josh laughs, getting a damp paper towel thrown at him, the material smacking him in the nose and falling to the floor.
“Ew, I don’t want your Drake cooties!” Josh grimaces as he leans down in his station, picking up the discarded piece of tissue between his index and thumb fingers. Throwing it into the small waste bin under the corn dog machine. Josh’s personal touch, beat going around the counter every time.
It was Drake's turn to laugh.
“Cat-like reflexes my butt” He snickers, trying to run his fingers through his hair. Flinching when he feels small bits getting ripped out his skull saying a string of ow’s and owies.
Josh rolls his eyes at Drake.
“Where did you get that kind of eye color from anyway?” Josh asks, genuine curiosity peaking.
“I don’t recall any of your past girlfriends having those”.
Drake shrugs his shoulders, both not knowing or caring.
“Beats me, hey wanna watch a movie with me? It’s terrible movie Tuesday” Drake says with a small grin on his face, eyes sparkly. As if he didn’t just get soda dumped on his head just three minutes ago and had a huge dark stain on his brown shirt, hair sticky with the smell of orange crush soda.
Josh gave his brother a face.
“What?.”
“I’m working,” Josh says, his tone screaming ‘duh isn’t that obvious?’.
For Drake Parker?, Nah.
“When do you go on break?”
“In ten minutes but-”
“And how long is your break?” Drake cuts in.
“An hour, but Drake-”
“Perfect, then you get to start your break early. Ain’t that awesome?” Drake asks with a smile on his face as he hops over the counter grabs Josh by the bicep and drags him to Theater One where DragonBall Evolution is playing.
“Drake if Helen finds out”
“She isn’t gonna, she never finds out that Gavin sleeps on the roof and he still works here. Crazy Steve is crazy and still works here. You work the hardest out of them both without having something mentally wrong with you, so if she fires you it’s her loss man— you put out 110% all the time and that’s way too much for a simple position.” Drake practically rants, while he drags his stepbrother through the double doors ignoring the blonde employee whose name he doesn’t care about remembering. If you work at the Premiere and you’re not Josh he’s not remembering your name.
Josh smiles at his brother, a soft somber secret smile that he only shares with Drake if the teen happens to say something that ruffled his feathers in a good way.
“Wow Drake, that's a pretty nice thing to say…”
“Besides, if she fires you, no more free tickets for me. So I’m hoping she doesn’t find out.” Drake adds, snorting through his nose.
Aaaaand moment ruined.
Josh could feel a familiar throbbing in the side of his head. Eye twitching. He thumps Drake in the back of his head with his free hand, not too hard but hard enough. Drake lets go of Josh's arm when they reach aisle three, rubbing the back of his head.
“Ow!” He groans glaring at his brother.
“What was that for?!”
“For being you,” Josh says bitterly, Drake thumps him on the back of his head in return making Josh cry out, rubbing the back of his head. He huffs.
“Headaches!, you give me headaches!” Josh shouts as he points at his temple, a big frown on his face. Drake keeps the glare.
They stare at each other for a while till they scream in sync and collide with one another, the shadows of their bodies big on the walls of the theater as the commercials on the giant TV play, illuminating a gentle white then blue light. Drake knocks a few hits in Josh’s head till his brother picks him up and practically body slams him on the floor, Drake swears he sees stars. A blossoming warmth of pain took over the back of his head, sinking through his brain and shooting out to the front of his forehead. He’s pretty sure his head connected with the arm of one of the theater chairs before he hit the ground while he and Josh are having a slap fight on the floor.
If Josh wanted, he could’ve been a wrestler. Screw the fancy science shit and math and some other smart stuff Drake has no idea about and doesn’t care for.
After some time Josh tries to help Drake get his head out from the chair he manages to get his big head stuck in between, trying to unclip the backboard of the chair. Drake lets out a strangled sound.
“Got it yet?” The teen wheezes out.
As he says it, Josh loses his grip and its normal weight squishes Drake's neck making the boy sputter out air.
“Ack!— Josh!”
“Shit— Sorry— why did you try squeezing through there?!” Josh hisses out, loud explosion sounds echoing through the empty theater while two teens looked like absolute buffoons. Josh hooks his finger around a piece of metal on both sides of the seat, pressing his thumbs against the metal button that’s used to change the height of the seat.
“I’m skinny!” Drake throws out there as if it changes anything and it doesn’t make his grand idea any stupider.
“Yeah, Skinny, not small. You’re not five Drake” Josh bites back. His legs are on both sides of Drake's body as he pulls on the backrest, digging his finger into the metal ball ignoring the burning pain that printed into his skin— turning red.
“You scared me okay! you hit my rib”
“Because you kicked me in my nuts!”
“Well excuse me for saving the world from tiny Joshies” the Guitarist wheezes, his face turning red while trying to pull his head out. Seriously though, what was he thinking?
“Think I’d be returning the world a favor if I leave you stuck here?” Josh asks in a calm voice, threatening, evidence somewhere within’ his voice but his continued action on getting the backrest off his brother's neck meant something else.
Drake keeps his mouth shut.
After successfully getting Drake unstuck after about fifteen odd minutes (with the help of Crazy Steve— if Drake claims that he didn’t pee a little on himself out of fear, he didn’t) the boys managed to finish the rest of the movie after an hour, after that hour Josh went back to work and after two more hours Drake waited for Josh to finish up work so he could drive him home.
Silence filled the car, while they cruised down the road passing streetlights and freeways. After a bit, Drake starts to snicker to himself as he pulls up to a red light drumming his fingers against the wheel. Josh cranes his neck to look over at his stepbrother. His brows drew together with a small smile creeping onto his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit.
“What’s so funny?” He asks his voice light and joyful.
“Oh, nothing it’s just that, my head being stuck in between the seats reminded me of something,” Drake says, talking under his breath like he’s embarrassed, which is news to Josh— Drake doesn’t get flustered much, he makes it his mission to make others flushed.
“What did it remind you of?” His brother questions, seeing the way his head tilts a bit in his preveal vision. The street light casts a soft glow on his face.
“Don’t hit me.”
“I’m not gonna.”
“You don’t know that”
Josh snorts through his nose.
“Just tell me.”
“Well… it kinda reminded me of this porno where this smoking hot mom gets stuck in the dryer and her stepson or was it son in law?… anyway he supposably tries to help her get unstuck but of course, it’s a porno so the plot doesn’t make sense, and she could obviously get out by herself and him fucking her doesn’t make sense with how it’s supposed to help her predicament but— anyway I’m getting sidetracked— my point is—.”
“You have a point?.”
“Shut up— anyway— my point is that me getting stuck like that just gave me that image, the only difference is that you actually helped, not saying that you wouldn’t have but— I mean— I’m gonna stop talking” Drake finished with a huff feeling as if he’s digging a grave for himself the more he talks, eyes still on the road, feeling the burning gaze of his brother on the side of his face.
Silence fills the car again, Drake could feel his cheek start to color. When is this light gonna turn green for crying out loud?
“Drake… you are the most unserious person I know…” Josh says, voice soft and quiet. Soft out of disappointment or amusement? Drake doesn’t know. He can’t really tell sometimes.
Drake side-eyes Josh. Josh is looking dead at him.
When the light finally turns green, Drake doesn’t hesitate to start driving again. After some time when the boys reached the curb of their house, Drake noticed that Josh's eyes were deep sea blue with specks of swamp green around his pupils.
He doesn’t bother to think about why he confused Rochelle’s eyes for Josh’s.
Drake Parker is an unserious person, so when Josh tells Drake that he’s gonna start working out again. Drake couldn’t help but laugh from the top of his loft, looking down at his brother who was wearing his old gym clothes with dumbbells by his black sneakers. Josh's jaw slack eyes squinted searching for the secret joke Drake seems to only be aware of.
“What’s so funny?” Josh questions, his eyes squinting more to the point Drake couldn’t make out the color anymore.
“You wanna work out,” Drake says, still laughing a bit, his cheeks heating up from how hard he was smiling. His hand gripping the neck of his guitar, one leg kicked over the other like a weird-looking P.
“Yeah… Why is that so funny?”
“I just don’t see why you would want to, you fucked up your foot last time. It looked like an angry grape that disliked being attached to you” Drake laughs, imagining Josh's messed up foot from two years ago.
“The only reason why my foot got messed up was because you shot me with your potato launcher!” Josh explains, flailing his arms in a wide motion trying to make Drake see the bigger picture.
“Which you gave to Megan, thanks a lot by the way” Drake replies sarcastically.
“I didn’t trust you with it” Josh huffs as he begins to bend over to grab the dumbbells readying himself as the instructor on the TV speaks.
“And yet you trust our evil prankster little sister with it instead, Ah yes ‘cause that makes perfect sense Josh” Drake scoffs not understanding Josh's logic sometimes, he was supposed to be the smart one out of them.
“Why are you working out anyway? you look perfectly fine to me” Drake shares, facing his attention back down on his guitar as he messes with some of the strings, trying to find a new tune. Singing a few words in his head as he strums along like there’s no issue.
“Because I’m getting big again” Josh lifts the barbell on the count of three holding the object above his chest and holding his breath.
Drake snorts “Yeah, sure, and I’m malnourished— Breathe Josh”.
Josh gasps, taking a deep breath. Soon dropping the barbell, without crushing his foot this time taking lines of air through his nose and out his mouth.
“You know what malnourished means— actually scratch that, you know the word malnourished?” Josh asked, sounding genuinely shocked. Which makes Drake roll his eyes in subtle annoyance and irritation.
He knows those words probably mean the same thing but he doesn’t care much about that little fact.
Yes, he does.
He knows his grades are shit but Jesus Christ a little faith would be nice.
“Ha ha you’re so funny,” he says giving Josh a sarcastic smile as he looks up from his guitar, flashing all his white teeth. It was Josh’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Anyway as I was saying, you look fine to me, sure you’re getting chubby around the face but so what? You look fine man so if someone is giving you a hard…” Drake slowly stops talking when it hits him, he starts to squint at Josh who seems to think the floor under them is interesting now.
“Josh”
“Hm?”
“Is someone… making fun of you dude?” Drake asks as he stares at his friend, tilting his head.
Josh looks up to meet Drake's eyes, opening and closing his mouth trying to get words to come out only air leaving his lips as he sputters.
“Who?” Drake asks.
“No one I just wanted to—.”
“You’re not big Josh, you just got a bit wider that’s all,” Drake says his brows drawing close to each other, he lays the guitar on his bed, leaning forward making the box spring squeak from the shifting weight. “So I’ll ask again, who’s making fun of you?” Drake says with more authority.
“No one.”
“Ah yes ‘cause I’m supposed to believe that after three years of building confidence and wanting to lose weight on your own accord and reaching that said goal someone didn’t manage to Wiggle their way into that large head of yours after you gained the slightest bit of weight from eating— which by the I don’t see at all, so I don’t know what they're seeing” Drake speaks. It didn’t make sense to him, Josh looked fine, he was just getting fat in his cheeks, and that was mostly because Josh started to eat unhealthy for the last week.
After Mindy broke up with him, again.
And Drake asked Megan to ship her to Australia, again. Josh didn’t need to know that of course.
“Drake” Josh sighs, eyes closed while he rubs his temple.
“Come on man— don’t look at me like that— Josh— hey! don’t walk away from me!” Drake calls after as he hops down from his loft chasing his brother out of their room.
It took three weeks, including some help from his devious little sister. But Drake found who was making his brother feel shit about himself, like yes okay. When Drake first became brothers with Josh he thought he was a geek— a nerd sure and he would make fun of him for it but he never once made fun of Josh for his weight, he understood how self-conscious he was about it even when he would seem confident with it. How he would walk the halls with that big goofy smile that Drake came far to adore, smiling himself when he would see it. It was an innocent sweet smile, it was better than Drake’s and his mischievous smile along with his charming one, he won’t tell that to Josh out loud of course— he still has a reputation to uphold.
What was saying?
Oh, right!
Drake never made fun of Josh for his weight, and he found out who was the jack-off who had been making fun of Josh’s newly gained weight— which again, wasn’t bad! He’s only a little wider! And has chubby cheeks again! he’s a fucking semi teddy bear!.
Clark Housewhite was the asshole's name, he was a senior with no brain— which leads to his first question, who the hell has a last name like Housewhite? What was his ancestor’s thinking? Drake stood by his locker looking for the tall brunette, Drake had Chemistry right now but couldn’t bring himself to care for which he knew he’s gonna get an earful from Josh and their teacher for later. Clark usually went to the bathroom around this time and that was the perfect time to strike.
Drake was in the middle of clipping his nails when he heard the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor, making Drake's head shoot up, flicking his head to the side to move his bangs out of his face. He’s taller than Drake gave him credit for but hey, fuck it.
Drake clears his throat when Clark nearly passes him. Clark stops in his tracks and slowly turns towards Drake, Drake’s still leaning against his locker as he watches the jock's eyes meet his. The guitarist gave the larger gentleman a smooth smile.
“Clark, can I talk to you for a second?” Drake requests, holding onto the strap of his backpack as he pushes himself off from the lockers not breaking eye contact.
“Um… sure? Whatcha need dude?”.
When Josh got home he instantly rushed upstairs to tell Drake something, shouting a quick hi to his parents over his shoulder as he stormed up the stairs greeting Megan who was in the middle of exiting her room, screaming when Josh nearly ran her over, calling him a boob. Josh wasn't phased, he was more attentive in telling Drake the news not being able to do so sooner since Drake disappeared from school around chemistry. Josh throws open their room door with a giant grin on his face.
“Drake you won't believe what happened, some moron thought it was clever to start a fight with Clark Whitehouse— which by the way is a weird last name but hey, anyway, he had the meanest black eye ever. No one has ever once landed a hit on him, whoever did has a mean fist—.” Josh said excitedly while he was setting his book bag down on his bed taking out his textbooks and assignments that were due in a week, stopping mid-sentence when he looked up toward his brother's bed dropping a textbook on his mattress when he took in Drake's current appearance. Drake's back was pressed against the wall of his bed, arm in a sling and cast, face battered and bruised a split lip— his left eye swollen shut, the right almost unscratched but also closed. Did he fall asleep like that?
Josh slowly walks over to Drake’s bed climbing the ladder. He was careful to not make too much noise if his brother was sleeping.
“Drake,” he says softly, Drake doesn't react. Josh places a hand on Drake's ankle, softly shaking him.
“Drake?” he says, keeping his voice gentle. Drake groans in response, slowly opening his eyes— well eye… his good eye.
“Wha?…” he asked, his voice groggy and filled with exhaustion.
“You were the wise guy who got into a fight with Clark?…”
“…No”
Josh smiles, that knowing smile that has Drake avoiding eye contact. Which makes him grimace in pain.
“Thank you, Drake” he smiles warmly.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” the teen said in a monotone voice, not looking at Josh still, ignoring that kind smile he knows he doesn't deserve half of the time. His heart drummed in his ears.
Josh shakes his head climbing up the rest of the ladder to help Drake lay back on the bed. It was the least he could do for the guy after getting his butt kicked by a guy who was twice his size. Drake grumbled a thank you, hissing when he twisted incorrectly.
Josh doesn't question how Drake knew it was Clark, but later when he brings up a can of doctor fizz for Drake and sees Megan sitting on the bed near her brother brushing his bangs from his face in a gentle manner, it helps with his hypothesis on how Drake found out. A smile creeps on his face when he hears Megan say something about shipping Clark to Ohio by tomorrow morning, watching Drake give the young girl a lazy smile, shoulders shaking in weak laughter while he says something to Megan that he can't quite hear but judging by Megan's pout. Drake said no. Megan lifts Drake's hand slowly and carefully— his good hand and presses a soft kiss on his red knuckles, blowing air on them.
If Josh's memory serves him correctly, he remembers Drake telling him a story about how when Megan and himself were kids– when Megan still loved him he claimed— when Megan would get hurt and cry and run to her big brother for comfort, Drake would kiss her booboos then blow on them, and gift her with a huge smile and ask ‘Pain Gone Meg Meg?’ and she would nod and hug him tight. Seeing the way Drake's eyes get glossy, he could tell the motion brought back those memories.
Josh silently backs away from the room leaving the Parker siblings alone, it was always nice to see the two get along. Maybe not when they're messing with Josh.
Drake is an unserious person, just not with Josh’s weight apparently.
Drake is an unserious person so when Megan ends up telling Drake about some dude named Jacob Reff who broke up with her— seriously what's with dudes and having weird names?
He busted out laughing, one hand on his stomach and the other on his knee. Wheezing, tears in his eyes as his laughter continues— lungs burning from his joy. Almost cackling. Megan stares at Drake, still sitting on the couch of their living room, her puffy red eyes squinted at him, watching the way her brother seems to lose it over her pain. She guesses it's deserved.
Drake coughs and hacks a couple of times, Megan raises a brow while he does. Drake wipes a tear from his eye, seeming to get himself under control. Clearing his throat as he pats his chest.
“I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” he says trying to keep a straight face but snickers nonetheless, shoulders shaking as he breathes heavily from his nose.
“You done?” Megan asked, her tone annoyed.
“Nope,” Drake answers truthfully as he resumes laughing all over again. Megan huffs as she wipes her tear-stained face.
“Did he finally find out that you're a she-demon in disguise of a thirteen-year-old?” Drake questions, taking deep breaths. Shit his side hurt from laughing so hard. Megan glares at him, a strangled sound making itself known in the back of her throat as she stands from the couch, walks up to her brother, and kicks him in the knee hard replacing Drake's laughter with a grunt.
“You are such a boob” she bites out, masking her hurt with anger as she brushes past Drake and towards the stairs to hide away in her room.
“Hey, it's not my fault you decided to date some idiot with a stupid name. He didn't deserve you anyway!” Drake calls after her, but his words fall on deaf ears, Megan is too mad to hear her brother's stupid words. He's a jerk. He never takes anything seriously.
The next day at school Megan walks towards her locker to get her books for homeroom after she collects her items she readies herself to start heading to homeroom stopping dead in her tracks when she hears rattling from around the intersection of lockers, on normal days Megan would mind her business but for some reason this time she wanted to see what the commotion was. Megan walks towards the corner peeking her head around the corner, eyes landing on Jacob who was struggling with getting his locker open. Megan wanted to duck back behind the corner of the lockers and carry on with her day, seeing Jacob filled her with unwanted pain and resentment, an old saying from Drake floating in her head.
"We're Parkers, we don't get our hearts broken. We break them instead” That was after a girl Drake liked— someone he actually saw a future with broke his heart. Amelia Tomson. Megan hated her. And still hates her, she feels she's the thing that set a change in her big brother's personality, not just their father who walked out on them.
Megan didn't like this feeling, this angry twisting feeling in her chest, continuing to watch Jacob struggle with his locker, the preteen sighed about to walk away but gasped at what happened next. It all happened within a second but for Megan? That shit was in slow motion.
When Jacob finally managed to get his locker open, his jet-black hair was suddenly covered in deep red liquid spreading out from the impact, painting the area around him, from the inside of his locker to the floor to a bit of the ceiling. Other students stopped and gawked at Jacob. Megan's jaw was unhinged, deep brown eyes wide as she stared. She looked past his profile looking at the note that was taped on the inside of his locker door, seeing a small handmade gadget that even a five-year-old could make. Megan read the note.
“I heard that you like red”.
Megan looks at the floor noticing a sharp pencil discarded on it, catching a red glimmer on the tip, a purple rubber band loosely wrapped around the metal part of the eraser— wait— her brain stops for a second, a rubber band, a makeshift gadget that looks like a slingshot, a sharp pencil preferably sharpened to a shorter length, odd liquid… all that was missing was… Megan looks up towards the ceiling above Jacob's locker. And yep there it is!, a ripped blue balloon that was securely taped by three layers of tape on the mouthpiece. There was only one person she knew who would pull such a thing, who taught her that prank when she was only four and it had her laughing for days that she advanced into her own with a paintball machine.
Drake.
Wait… if Drake did this doesn't that mean that he…
Jacob screams in disgust. “Raw fish!!” the boy yells as he runs down the hall taking chunks of meat out of his hair and racing to the bathroom. His face was stained with droplets of liquid, the smell of raw seafood following the boy. Megan scrunched her nose laughing to herself, if Megan was guessing the right fish that her brother picked, Jacob wasn't gonna get that smell out of his hair or off him anytime soon.
Since the show was sadly over, Megan starts to head to homeroom, slowly stopping when she remembers what Drake said last night, what she blocked out when she was aggravated at him for being an ass.
‘He didn't deserve you anyway!’ Drake's voice echoes in her head, bringing a small smile to her face.
When Megan returns home and walks down the hallway towards her room, she stops and turns on her heels heading towards Drake and Josh’s room, she enters the room unannounced, Josh is doing his homework on his bed and Drake is sitting on the couch messing with his guitar like he usually does on Friday afternoons. He seemed to be playing something somber at the moment, it's a blurry memory but she believes their dad used to play that tune. Megan silently walks up from behind towards her brother, wrapping her arms loosely around his shoulders, pressing her cheek against the top of Drake's head, tightening her arms just a bit around him, and pressing a kiss on top of his head after. His hair tickling her nose, smelled a bit like lavender, he must borrow Josh's bath soap.
Drake presses a hand on Megan's arm, softly rubbing it as if this isn't something new for them.
“You alright Megan?” he questions cautiously, like something was gonna happen like Megan was planning something and it was gonna happen after his baby sister either let him go or didn't. The thought made Megan laugh a bit, smiling.
“Yeah, I just love you,” she says in a soft voice, one Drake and Josh aren't used to. It makes Drake uneasy but that doesn't stop Drake from… comforting his sister?.
Megan gives him one last squeeze before she releases him, messing with his hair, and walks out of the room without another word.
Megan wasn't too far, she could still hear her boobish brothers talking.
“Is she sick?” was the first thing Josh asked
“I don't know… is a piece of my hair missing?” Drake followed up which made Megan snicker, of course, Drake would worry about his hair.
“I feel like I just got the touch of death… if I die bury me with my guitar,” Drake says, sounding a little freaked out.
Megan rolled her eyes fondly at her idiot brother, but in her own way, she loved and adored him. Josh as well but you get what she means.
Her amazing, unserious brother. Who can get pretty serious when he wants to.
Drake Parker is an unserious person. And it bites him in the ass. But truthfully, he feels like this time it's not even his fault.
Drake rubs his eyes tiredly from beneath his glasses—don't laugh at him— his head hurts and so does his body, his brain feels like it was on a stove in a pot filled with boiling water. It felt too stuffy for him. Drake Parker, musician and singer a teen who could write nearly a hundred songs within a day couldn't write a simple fucking essay on what gives his life meaning and what brings him peace and warmth when he feels like he's gonna sink into the depth of darkness that creeps in the back of his mind like a toxic ex that would visit him in the debts of night, that would attack him on the day a certain deadbeat left his and Megans life forever, shit the giraffe on his back burned from thinking about him.
A lot of people would say and claim that Drake was a free spirit, he gets through life with his charm and good looks alone. But he knows the hidden message behind those words. He's nothing special and no one special, so what if he can sing and play the guitar, even the drums? That's not gonna help him in the near future…
What if his dream doesn't work out… it's not like he had a backup plan, he wasn't like Josh or that creature that wears a skirt, Mindy.
School wasn't made for Drake, so what would make him believe that he could survive college?
Ugh, when did he get so depressed? Jesus.
What was he doing? The blurriness begins to clear up after he blinks a couple of times meeting with the blank page of his paper, oh, right, his essay…
Something that makes him happy… Something that gives him meaning and that warm feeling. He could always write about music but that feels like an obvious statement that would land him a big fat F anyway with Ms. Hayfer and her booger-infested nose. Truthfully it doesn't matter what he writes, he’ll get an F either way since the old bat just fucking hates him that much, even when he does get the answers right. It's amazing that for the past four years, none of the teachers ever noticed that he was practically failing at a class not because he was simply bad at it but because a sad pathetic woman who needs to get the attitude screwed out of her or something hates his guts for no real reason.
The next thing he knew his notebook was flying across the room from his bed toward the door, which for some reason Josh decided to walk in at the worst moment ever, the black school notebook hit Josh right in the bridge of his nose making Josh face switch from that happy go
lucky look to a look of pain, groaning as he held his face, Drake flinched when it hit Josh, grimacing at the sound of impact.
“Ow, dude what was that for?” Josh questions, pain in his tone and irritation ringing somewhere in there. His eyes are hard as they stare at Drake then ease up when he watches the expression on his face. Drake's eyes were red and puffy, bitterness swimming in those dark brown eyes, cheeks red, the vein in the center of his head bulging out.
Josh leans forward picking up the abandoned book, striding across the room towards Drake’s bed.
“Sorry, why was your face where my book was going?” was the first thing Drake said when Josh reached the ladder, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses again, and letting out an uneasy breath. His head was throbbing.
Josh ignores the comment, more concerned about why his brother looks like he is on the verge of crying, Drake wasn't one to cry. Hiding his more troubling emotions with charm and charisma, bad puns, and childish games.
“Wanna talk about it?” Josh questions, handing Drake back his notebook, the musician gratefully taking it from his hold mumbling a thank you as he tosses the book somewhere on his bed. Running his fingers through his hair pushing his bangs back.
“No, it doesn't matter man”
“You assaulted me with a notebook and my nose hurts”
“How was I supposed to know you were gonna open the door as soon as I threw the book?”
And they were bickering. It only lasted three minutes due to Josh climbing up the ladder and pressing his hand over Drake's mouth to shut him up.
Drake's eyebrows go up to his hairline, squinting at Josh after.
Josh removes his hand slowly, not breaking eye contact, eyes laser-focused.
“Gonna ask again, what's up?”
“This stupid essay man, it's half of my grade and I have no idea what the hell to write. It's not like it matters regardless since Ms. Hayfer makes it her life goal to make mine a living hell— failing me every chance she gets. Might as well not write anything at all” he says, his face going through the motion of every emotion he's feeling at that exact moment— Josh watches with an unchanging expression.
“Drake…”
“No! It doesn't matter, Josh. No matter what I write I'm gonna get an F and fail and go to summer school then fail summer school and repeat the twelfth grade as you are at some big shot college like Stanford or Yale or Harvard or whatever smart college for brainy yacks like yourself and that creature along with Craig and Eric and not be my manager anymore ‘cause you'd be busy doing something better for yourself and forget all about me as I'm some loser who couldn't graduate on time because I didn't take school seriously and some sad teacher has it out for me!” he blurts out as he shoots up from his bed-hopping off the side of the large platform, landing gracefully on the floor with a thud. Heading towards the door slamming it behind him when he exits.
What… What just happened?
Josh was left stunned.
Drake Parker is an unserious person, so when he receives his diploma from Ms. Hayfer herself he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, his burgundy cap snug on his head, the tassel tickling his ear. Hand on the other side of the diploma, that his teacher seems to be having a hard time giving him, a small game of tug a war happening between them, Drake manages to rip it out of her hold with one last firm tug, his smile never changing. Ms. Hayfer gave him a bitter forced smile, making Drake wanna double over in laughter, enjoying the struggle the witch was going through watching him graduate on time— which is mostly thanks to Josh who made sure he didn't give up after his little break down a month ago.
“Say it,” he says, a smile still present on his face.
Ms. Hayfer lets out an annoyed sigh, her face souring.
“Congratulations” she mumbles
Drake cups the back of his ear leaning to her a bit mocking an innocent look.
“I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that, mind repeating that?” Drake asks, puckering his lips the way Josh does when he knows he's being a little shit. He could hear his peers behind him snicker at his silly comment.
“Congratulations for graduating Drake Parker,” she says, sounding like she was choking on the words as she said them.
Drake's arms shoot up in the arm as he does his battle cry reaching pitches no other normal human could reach. Cheering.
“WOOHOO! I MADE IT BABY!!” He cheers happily making everyone laugh, bowing to the audience, the laughter growing.
Right as Drake is about to step off the stage, he hears it before he sees it. A high-pitched whistle then a wet splat, his jaw drops when an orange paintball hits Ms. Hayfer right in the side of her face, making her cry out, small drops landing on her black blazer that had gold stripes. Drake couldn't hold it in, he let out a high-pitched laugh pointing at the woman with his diploma, the auditorium filled with laughter from students and families. He runs off the stage before she can even grab him, laughing the whole way down the steps, circling the stage cheering, family, educators, and students joining in his cheer as he races to his assigned seat, high-fiving Trevor who sits next to him. Drake notices Josh a few rows down smirking, following Josh's view he notices Megan who wears the same smirk down in the audience, holding something small and silver in her manicured hands.
Oh, oh he loves them.
After the ceremony, students are standing with their families outside of the school hugging one another and cheering. Drake was just finishing up hugging Audrey and Walter— squeezing his little sister for the first time since forever— she let him— pressing a firm kiss on the crown of her head, earning himself a soft punch to his rib, making him laugh.
He hears him before he sees him.
“Hug me brotha!!” Josh says in that weird goofy voice he does like he's making an announcement. Drake curled his head so fast that he could feel the muscle in his neck sprain. Eyes wide and bright racing to Josh in max speed practically jumping in his arms and hugging the other tight, as Josh held him up in the air hugging him just as tight, like when they were fourteen and first became brothers and instead of screaming out of fear, Drake screams out of excitement and pure joy. Josh proudly held Drake up in the air, Drake for once not caring if anyone saw them, this moment was one that he will forever remember. And he had no issue with that.
“We made it dude!”
The sound of a camera going off happens, but neither one could care less. Just happy. Giant smiles on their faces.
March 8th, 2015, Drake Parker is twenty-four and is still a very unserious person. Not by choice, he came to realize that on his own. Maybe a little .
Drake was currently sitting in a leather seat, elbow resting on the arm of the chair, mouth kissing his knuckles, attention fully on the stage before him. He could feel his heart jackhammering against his chest plate, threatening to break through and let itself known to the world like some scene out of a horror flick. Now he wants to watch a horror movie when he goes home. Nice.
Drake counts back from ten all the way to one, practicing his breathing exercise that his therapist taught him after his car accident back in 2008. Drake takes a couple of deep breaths, flinching— nearly jumping out his skin when he feels a gentle hand rub his arm in a soothing manner.
Drake opens his eyes again looking towards his left where his little sister was sitting, Megan was looking at him with a gentle expression. Smiling at him in a way that reminds him of their mother— which he’s thankful for— kind tender eyes on her newly mature features, it feels like it was only yesterday that she was nine and tormenting him and Josh. Drake looked past Megan to see their parents talking in hushed tones but they seemed happy enough, unaware of how nervous their son seemed to be. Drake closes his eyes for a moment again, exhaling and opening his eyes again. He nods towards his sister, she returns the gesture removing her hand folding them together on her lap, her posture remaining straight. Smoothing out her white dress after a bit, checking herself out in her compact mirror checking if she had any loose strands of hair in her high ponytail. Putting it away when she doesn’t find any. It almost makes Drake laugh.
And she says he’s obsessed with his hair, little brat.
Drake shakes his head, paying attention to the stage again. Listening for who won a Grammy from each category of music.
That’s right you heard him. Drake Parker is sitting in a chair at the Grammys in Hollywood. When Josh got the call and told Drake, Drake couldn’t believe it. He still can’t.
He never thought he would officially meet the queen herself, Beyoncé!. And don’t get him started on the Princess of Pop Britney Spears. When she first spoke to him on the red carpet Drake felt as if he was on cloud nine, and when she hugged him, it was all over— Drake thought he was gonna pass out, if Josh was with him he knew his stepbrother would’ve laughed at him. Especially if he got to witness how red he turned when Beyoncé told him he was so handsome.
If anyone was to ask Drake if he was a Yoncè and Britney fan instead of just rock and roll— the blues, a bit of jazz and classical music, the last one thanks to Josh. He will deny it till the day he dies and just say he respects them and their craft.
Drake clicks back into focus when he sees Bruno Mars walk up to the podium after Selena Gomez performance, clapping along with the crowd, even though he has not a single clue what she sang.
“Thank you Selena for that wonderful performance” Bruno Mars says, with his charming smile clapping with the audience, his tan skin somewhat red from the beating lights.
“And now with great honor I would like to announce the Grammy winner for best selling song for rock, number one best seller, top of the charts on build boards!” Everyone holds their breaths, Drake tenses up in his seat watching as Bruno opens up the golden envelope, his smile never changing.
“And the Grammy goes to… rising star Drake Parker I Found A Way!!” Bruno announces with a cheer, Drake jaw drops as everyone else around him cheers, clapping the starting intro of the song starts playing. Drake looked around, his mind not keeping up, Megan was shaking his arm in excitement telling him to go. Drake stands cleaning his throat as he fixes his black suit and navy blue tie adjusting his circular glasses that framed his face perfectly— Megan’s personal touch. The navy tie, Josh’s idea. The shiny dress shoes his mother helped with.
Drake hugs Megan who pats his back, pressing a soft kiss against his mothers cheek and shakes Walters hand with a big grin on his face pulling away as he walks out his row and down the aisle towards the stage fixing his side bangs as he walks up the steps of the stage walking towards Bruno, accepting the Grammy in one hand shaking Bruno’s hand in the other side hugging him stepping up to the mic. Looking at the hundreds rows of celebrities, staring up at him and smiling at him in encouragement.
“I… heh” Drake clears his throat, a watery smile climbing his face.
“Shit I honestly don’t know what to say it’s just that— I didn’t think I would win y’know? I didn’t think I would make it, thought I would have to wax surfboards and probably work at a run down diner that no one really knows about but has the best pie” Drake says, laughing a bit, causing the rest to laugh with him.
“I.. listen I downplay a lot of things and I take a lot of things unseriously but this? This moment right here? Is the most serious thing that has ever happened to me, besides becoming a big brother, becoming a brother to someone else and having to share my room for five years with that person. Actually making it through high school and graduating on time”
Drake wipes his eyes from under his glasses.
“Stupid tears”. That earns another chorus of laughs.
“Sorry sorry, anyway this Grammy doesn’t just count as my achievement and success. This Grammy counts as an achievement for the best manager and step brother in the whole entire world. Josh Nichols who sadly can’t share this moment with me tonight since he had a highly important test today— get that degree bro. I wouldn’t have made it up till now without you brother thank you! I love you!” Drake holds the Grammy up with a giant smile, tears running down his cheeks freely, voice cracking.
“To all the people that didn’t in believe me, fuck you I made it you hating ass bitches, special shout out to my English teacher Ms. Hayfer and the creature that wears a skirt and claims she’s a girl Mindy Crenshaw. Much love to my biggest haters couldn’t have done this without ya either” He chuckles, everyone claps and cheers.
“And Josh if you happen to be watching, I would say I’m sorry but come on… we both know I’d be lying. Thank you Hollywood and my family goodnight!” He finishes off, walking off the stage as his song plays again as he holds up his Grammy while the people laughed and cheered making his way back to his seat.
Was Drake Parker still an unserious person?, yes. Was he still petty after a couple of years?. Yes.
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metamatronic · 4 months
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mikey afton design timeline. he’s my comfort character fr fr
open to fnaf asks!!!
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todayworldnews-24 · 1 year
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Priyanka Gandhi Share Picture With Rahul Gandhi Beautiful Caption For Him On Sibling Day | Siblings Day: Priyanka Gandhi did a beautiful post for brother Rahul, wrote
Priyanka Gandhi Post For Rahul: Congress General Secretary Priyanka Gandhi and Rahul Gandhi are siblings as well as good friends. There have been many such occasions when Rahul Gandhi has been seen showering love on his sister Priyanka, while Priyanka is also seen pampering her younger brother. Today (April 10), on the occasion of ‘Siblings Day’, Priyanka Gandhi did not lag behind in showing…
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puppetmaster13u · 1 month
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Prompt 261
“So is no one going to talk about the eldritch space child or…” 
“I mean, do you want to get between a child and Batman? I think the only one who could even get close right now is Superman…” 
“No you’re right, I think- oh my god the eldritch space child is playing with batman’s bat-ears and he’s not doing anything about it what the fuck I thought only Robins could get away with that-” 
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gremnda · 3 months
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Siblings siblimg sib
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attntionwhre · 1 month
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stoner big brother who is such a loser that he has nothing better to do than getting his little sibling high everyday and molesting them <3
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sisterlove2023 · 2 months
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brosislegalmarriage · 24 days
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sleepytenny · 2 months
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"This is a song I wrote for my big baby brother!"
"Yeah, yeah. Shut up before you break a nail."
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Yet another collab with @tickingart ! Pandora absolutely doesn't know how to play the guitar.
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Pluto Saturnino & artwork © @sleepytenny Pandora Stern & artwork © @tickingart Please do not steal. AI sampling prohibited. ===== Want me to draw for you? My commissions are open!
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inkskinned · 9 months
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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wowpets9999 · 1 year
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Sisters Revenge | Brother Sister Love | Big Brother Little Sister #shorts
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