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thewritersaddictions · 1 month

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Request: The Adults: Eddie Munson- Just The Two Of Us

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunnigham

Pov: Eddie

Summary: Eddie takes his daughter out for a daddy/Daughter day while Chrissy is sick at home.

Warnings: None, Fluff, repeating of curse words, daddy/daughter time, going to the mall, mall kid rides, ice cream stop, and just overall cuteness.

A/N: Another great one added to this growing series. I thank you for the request. also @ firefly-graphics for dividers

WC: 3.4k

Requests Master List // Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List // Chronicles of Eddie and Chrissy Master List

June 1995

"Come on, baby," I say to Charlotte, but she doesn't move from her spot on the couch. Her nose is scrunched up in her face. Her arms crossed over her chest. "What about mommy?" She says as if I've forgotten that Chrissy is lying sick in the upstairs bedroom. "Wha about mommy, baby?" My daughter is just as headstrong as my wife. "We can't leave without her." She says, her brows furrowing down on her cute face.

"We aren't leaving her baby. Mommy just needs to rest, and we… I wanted to take my baby girl somewhere special today." I say, turning the conversation away from my sick wife and to my daughter. "Just the two of us?" She asks as if we've never gone somewhere without Chrissy. I hum, "Just the two of us baby." Charlotte seems to contemplate the idea for a moment, and then she hops off the couch and grabs her light-up shoes by the front door. "Well then let's go, daddy." I laugh at her get-up attitude all of a sudden and follow behind her.

The weather isn't insistent that we wear winter jackets or even jackets, but I know that if I don't grab Charlotte's jacket, she'll end up complaining that she's cold at some point, just like Chrissy does. I ended up grabbing both her a jacket, and myself one before the keys are stuffed into my pocket and we are walking out the door. A little hand held tightly in my grip as I walk us to the car. Charlotte doesn't mind that she still has to be picked up to be put into the car seat, yet she's very confindent in her ability to be able to buckle herself in.

"i've got it daddy." Charlotte says as I brings my hands up giving her the room to able to buckle herself into the car seat. When Charlotte is secured by the three straps she looks up at me. "Looks great pumpkin." I say before kissing her forehead and shutting the door before getting into the drivers seat.

With the turn of the key the car comes ot life, and Charlottes first question isn't where I plan on taking us instead it's about the music she wants to listen to. "Daddy can we listen to my music? Please." Charlottes asks looking up at me through the rear-view mirror. I hum and switch over to the cd player. Charlottes princess music starts automatically, and with that completed I grab the back of the passenger headrest and back out of the drive way.

The mall is not as crowded as it could be on a Saturday morning, but at least the way that Charlotte holds on to my hand makes me know that my sweet girl isn't running off into any crowd nearby. When I had suggested going to the mall during the car ride Charlottes eyes light up like a chirstmas tree and honestly I know why. We don't often come out to the mall for the simple fact that Chrissy is still a little afraid that Charlotte is going to run off and the lines here are always way to long to wait in to just be buying a few items.

"Where do you want to go first?" I ask, looking down at Charlotte. She surveys the area around us. "That one." She says, pointing in the direction of the Disney store. When I look back down at Charlotte, her eyes glow with anticipation, and she's smiling like her mother. "Okay, baby, we can start there." I walk a bit slower so that Charlotte can keep up with my longer legs; the Disney store logo shines brightly even under the fluorescent light.

The store blasts Disney music from a Disney movie that Charlotte insists we watch at least a few times a week with her mother, and I always agree to. The second we entered the store, a store approached us and told Charlotte how cute she was with her light-up shoes. We don't look around for long before Charlotte has found something she wants me to buy. Looking up at me waving the stuffed animal around until I grab it from her small hands.

"You want this?" I ask her, and she nods her head vigorously. I pause momentarily, rolling my lips before kneeling beside her on the floor. "Are you absolutely sure? Cause we've got a whole mall to explore. I don't wanna buy you this if you find something else later." Charlotte seems to contemplate my words, looking between me, the stuffed animal, and the store exit. Finally, she must land on an answer in her mind because she practically rips the toy from my hand and shoves it back onto the shelf. "We can go somewhere else now." She declares, pulling me towards the store exit and back into the crowded walkway.

While walking around the mall, we see other dads with their daughters. Some watch their daughter walk into Spencer's while others hold onto their daughters' hands as they babble. All of the sudeen Charlotte stops, and then looks up at me with her hand pointing towards a completely different store. "Can we go in there daddy?" She asks her voice full of innocnce. I look between her and the store a few times before nodding my head and letting her guide us towards the store.

She drags me and drags me until we reach the escalators, and the ride is nothing short of hilarious. Charlotte rubs her light-up shoes against the frill that lays above eachwe reach the top, Charlotte jumps off the damn moving stairs and right into the kid's area.

I keep a good distnace away from her, letting her be a kid and shop. I watch as my daughter looks a like her mother. Starting at the bottom of the bookshelf with her legs crossed over one another. Charlotte might be a mixture of both Chrissy and I but right now she's every bit her mother. Her nose scrunches up when she finds another book to add to her pile. The pile that is growing by the second next to her.

"Hey daddy?" She calls, I turn around look down at her. "Yes baby." She looks around pulling her face into a expression I've never seen, and asks "How many of these can I get today?" Charlotte loves to read, and has since she was able to hold a book by herself. Story time was her favorite thing about going to bed, and as she got older the more books we had to read before she could even manage to close her eyes.

Pile isn't huge, or even too many, yet she still asks. With my hand propped on my hips, I look up towards the decorated ceiling where things hang from the ceiling tiles, and the fluorescent lights flicker above me. Looking down, I can see Charlotte's eyes beaming at me like her mother's. "You can get the whole pile. Does that sound like it?" My words are cut short when I get wrapped up in a tight hug. Charlotte squeezes me tightly in her tiny grasp and keeps me there for a minute.

She whispers into my ear, "You are the best daddy ever. Did you know that?" She asked. I laughed and thanked her with a kiss on her forehead before shaking my head. "I didn't, but I do now." With satisfaction written all over Charlotte's face, she grabs the pile into her arms and walks towards the elevators. A few books fall and land on the floor, but I grab them and walk with Charlotte to the elevator. When the doors open, Charlotte is quick to jump in, waiting until I've also gotten in to press the button to go down to the bottom floor.

On the way to the cashier, something else caught my daughter's eye, having us detour from the straight line to where the stuffed animals lay together with a few others. She eyes them and then me, beofre returning her attention to the stuffed animal. A few moments of silence passed between us before I reach down and grab the animal putting it ontop the book I have in my hands. "Really daddy?" She questions me with exctiment in her voice, "I did promise you a stuffed animal didn't I." I say as we walk back towards the cashier.

Walking with Charlottes hand wrapped up in one of mine, and other holding a rather heavy bag with books and a stufffed animal in it we pass by another store in the mall on the way toward the food court because the minute we had walked out of the book store Charlotte was begging to get some food.

"Ohh Daddy can we go in there?" She says looking back and forth between me and the nail salon. More bright lights and a few people are sitting behind the glass. I sigh, and think about it for a minute. I'm not sure that this would be a daddy daughter day if my daughter didn't drag me into a nail salon, and then promptly tell me that I also have to get my nails done. That is exactly with happnes. The bag filled with books sits on the floor and Charlotte sits next to me her fingers wiggling as she waits for someon to come over and paint her nails.

The bright pink nail polish bottle sits not too far from her grasp, and as we wait, she spins her chair around in circles. I had been forced to grab a color when Charlotte told me I could not get nail polish on my nails. I grabbed black, but when Charlotte looked up at me, her brows creased and her lips in a pout. I grabbed a different, brighter color.

Pink.

The nail tech was great with Charlotte, asking her about her favorite movies and favorite summertime activities other than going shopping with her daddy. The smell of nail polish is harsh on my nose, but Charlotte is in heaven as the young woman paints her nails with ease and even puts a little sticker on one of her nails. The women doing nails giggles a little when Charlotte looks over to make sure that eveything is going alright. After a few moments of waiting under the dryers I pay for our nails and we leave to get back to lunch.

The lines are long, and we both get hungrier by the second. Charlotte dances next to me as we wait in the McDonald's line. "Do you know what you want, baby?" I ask her, and she shakes her head and then tries to look over at the taller people in front of her. I put the bag down to the floor again and grabbed Charlotte quickly, hoisting her up to my shoulders so she could see the menu. "Now I can see." She says. Before long, we were at the front of the line, and Charlotte was still looking at the menu. "What can I get you today, sir?" A teenage boy asks me from behind the counter. I say what I want to the angsty teen and wait until Charlotte is ready; she points, and both the chaser and I look up. "The nuggets?" The angsty teens asks, and Charlotte nods. "With a hi-c and a coke," I say to the kid before paying and waiting for our food.

We eat on the same side of the table with the bag in front of us. The head of the stuffed animal poking out. Charlotte's nuggets are gone before I've even finished my burger, but Charlotte is a lot like me, getting distracted by the simplest things. A jingle from a ride rings through the food court, and Charlotte all but abandons her fries, searching for the noise. "On hold now, "I say, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to the chair. "Can you let me finish my burger, and then we can find that noise. "But…" the words in her throat die as I give her a rather stern look. "Okay, Daddy." She says sweetly, sitting back down to dip her fry into the sauce.

We find the noise not soon after, and it's connected to the mall rides that little kids run their sticky fingers all over. "Can I ride one?" Charlotte asks, and then, "Please, pretty please!" She begs me, I nod, and she picks her own ride. "Come on, Come on!" Charlotte squeals excitedly as I slip a few dollars into the machine. The ride starts with ease, and with that, Charlotte is yet again having the time of her life while she spins with the machine. The small caracal stops; Charlotte is back there to beg me to put more money into the machine. "One more time, baby, because we have to go back home." she nods and then waits patiently for the ride to start again.

As we walk back to the car, the June sun burns into our skin. "Did you have fun shopping?" I ask her, noting that the light-up shoes are not doing well in the hot summer sun. "Of course, I had a fun daddy." She says as she climbs into her car seat and buckles herself in. I realized then that my little girl was growing up way too fast for my comfort. I remember when she was just a baby. Taking her first steps and saying her first words.

"Daddy?" Charlotte asks into the car. I had just turned the car to start the car. I look at her through the rear view mirror. "Can we get some ice cream before we go home?" She asks so nicely that how could I deny her. "Sure baby." I say and pull out of the parking spot. I know that there's a ice cream parlor somewhere between here and the house, but I can't help but think about Chrissy.

She's been sick for a few days now, and no matter what we do, she can't keep food or drink down, so I think Charlotte and I will have to visit a drugstore before we head back home. But for now, I get distracted by the idea of melting ice cream in the hot June sun.

Parking in the Brusters parking lot is packed on a Saturday summer afternoon. Packs of families and dates are happening around us as Charlotte stays stuck to my side like glue. "Do you know what you want today, baby?" I ask, crouching down; her hair shakes back and forth even though it's in a ponytail. A few flyaways from the summer breeze that flows in. "What about a sundae?" I ask her, another shake of her head. "What about a wafer cone?" I ask Charlotte, and she rolls her eyes. "No, Daddy!" "Okay, how about a sugar cone with two scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream and whipped cream on top?" I offer; her eyes light up, and the smile on her cheeks grows, showing off a few missing teeth here and there. "I want that." She answers me, I nod, and when we reach the counter, I give another angsty teenager our order. I make sure to get a bowl just in case Charlotte's ice cream melts too fast for her to eat it all.

I order a classic chocolate sugar cone, and we sit in the heat of the summer air. Ice cream smears around her face as she chomps at the cone. Getting ice cream and whipped cream stuck to her nose. I laugh, and she giggles, "You're so silly, aren't you, baby." I say with contentment, lacing my words. She nods, "But not as silly as you, Daddy." My own ice cream covered my lips and nose and my hands.

By the time we leave, our hands are sticky, and we have a brain freeze. "We have one more stop to make before we can go home, okay, sweetheart." I hear a "Okay" from the back seat and the click of her car seat. It's not long before snores fill the car, and we are driving on the highway. When we make it to the CVS, Charlotte still hasn't woken up.

I turn the car off, shutting the door as quietly as possible before rounding the back of the car and opening the back seat. Charlotte's head is hung to the left with her mouth open. I shake her awake gently. "Come on honey, you gotta wake up. We are here at our last stop," I say softly before shaking her again. Her eyes flutter open, and she yawns, stretching her arms out in front of her. I unbuckle her and set her on my hip. "Why are we here?" She asks through another yawn. "We gotta get mommy a few things. I'm a little worried about her." I say truthfully. She nods and rests her head on my shoulder, and her little arms wrap around my neck.

I grab a shopping basket at the front of the store before heading into the air-conditioned building. An employee says hi, then looks at the sleeping child on my side and smiles sweetly before hurrying off to help another costumer. I go directly to the medicine aisle hopping to find something for Chrissy upset stomach, and then maybe some vapor rub just in case this turns into the flu or streph throart. Charlotte shifts in my arms looking over the edge of my shoulder. "We should get mommy a new blanket too." Charlotte says, "We should baby." I move from the medicine aisle to where they keep the fluffy socks, and blankets. I grab one type of blanket and stuff it into the basket before grabbing a pair or two of fluffy socks for Chrissy.

"And a card," Charlotte says as we approach the cashier desk. "That's a great idea, sweetheart." So I detour to the card aisle; I set Charlotte down and wait for her to reach for the card she thinks is best to give Chrissy. "This one, Daddy." She says, handing it to me to read. I smile at the cute little puppy on the front and the words written inside the card. So that also gets stuffed into the basket. Charlotte doesn't motion for me to pick her back up, so we walk together to the cashier.

The older woman is kind as she scans our items and asks us if we've had a good day so far. Charlotte tells the older woman what we've done, and the woman follows along. "Sounds like you had a great day. The total will be twenty-two dollars and fifty-six cents." I nod and bring out my card to pay.

The ride home is short; most people are still out. The roads clear up as we make it into the neighborhood. There's no sight of Chrissy downstairs, so I make quick work of toeing off my shoes, and Charlotte does the same. We pad up the stiars where Chrissy is awake and reading. "MOMMY!" Charlotte shouts, startling Chrissy. Jumping into the bed with her, Charlotte tells the story of what we did today.

"And then we got you a few things from the store because daddy was worried about you." Chrissy looks over to me with a warm smile on her face. "You were worried about me?" She asks, "Of course" I say my brow creasing down. "Oh, I'm fine I'm feeling by the minute now that you two are back home." Chrissy says, and Charlottes looks over at me. "See I told you we couldn't leave mommy here by herself." Chrissy alughs and I just stare at the two of them. "Well before my daughter throws me under the bus again we got you a few things." I say

Placing the platic bags down on the bed. Letting Chrissy go through them at her pace. She snuggles into the new blanket, and Charlotte can't help but snuggle deeper into her mothers side when she unfolds it and throws it over the two of them. "And we even got you a card." Charlottes say.

"Aww, you two are so sweet." Chrissy says, kissing Charlotte's forehead and giving me the 'come over here' finger. Sitting down next to my two girls has me smiling. I kiss Chrissy on the forehead, "I got a few meds for you, but I didn't know what you might need." I whisper, and she snuggles into me. "I don't need another, but thank you, honey," Chrissy says; a few moments later, Charlotte asks if we can watch cartoons. Chrissy and I both laugh, but I grab the remote to the TV anyway.

Completed on: 03/22/24

Posted on: 03/25/24

COEC Tags-

#fluff #requests are open #open requests #requests open #strangers things #eddie munson #stranger things x you #stranger things #eddie and his daughter #eddie and charlotte munson #daddy/daughter #daddy/daughter day #cutie pie #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

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otakween · 2 years

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Digimon Adventure 02 (Blind Watch) - Episode 17

Wait...I literally just remembered that the parents (plus a bunch of other people) saw all the digital world stuff by the final episode of season 1. What exactly is the IRL awareness of digimon?? The kids have to hide that they're going to the digital world from their parents, but maybe that's more because it's dangerous? Or was there some memory wipe thing I'm forgetting about. (This ramble triggered by a line in the dub where Matt says "Don't tell me Myotismon destroyed the studio again!?" to his dad...)

Anyway, putting my confusion aside, I really enjoyed this one. It had the good kind of callbacks instead of some cheap repeats. It was especially nice to see the S1 kids finally sit down with the new kids and tell their story. Probably should have done that already by now, but better late than never!

There was...no battle in this one?? Wild...

Notes:

-I think the movie director in the beginning of the episode had the same VA as Joe. Low key distracting.

-I liked the concept of not just a ghost being caught on camera, but a ghost that changes its movements every time you play the video back. Not sure I've seen that done before...

-Very heartwarming that they've turned Aug. 1st into a special day of remembrance amongst their friend group. I've seen fans making posts about the date before and maybe I'll start celebrating it too! (I'm an August baby so it feels extra special).

-Aside from Bakemon who doesn't count, I guess this is our first ghost digimon? Really unfair that Wizarmon didn't get to be reincarnated like everyone else :'( I wonder if we'll see him again?

-I sighed a small sigh of relief when we got hat!Mimi back. More importantly, her ridiculous pink/starry hair is gone! I hope this isn't just a temporary change. She looks really cute with pig tails

-Didn't really think about the difference between living with a single dad vs. a single mom until Takeru and Yamato had a discussion about it. Is every single mom in this series a homemaker...? (Nothing wrong with that, but it would be awkward if there wasn't at least one mom with a job).

-They censored the curry in the dub lol. American kids in the early 2000s didn't know what curry was I guess

-This episode featured a bunch of MD players to the point where it felt suspiciously like an ad. I had to google what an MD was and it's a mini-disc (like GameCube game sized). Of course, they just called it a "CD player" in the dub

-Dead at the dub line "Don't mind him dad, he's just not a happy little buffalo!" LOL (American kids also don't know what sutras are apparently)

-They addressed a question I had in my earlier post about how they were stuck using the computer lab to enter the digi-world. Koushiro finally figured out that they could connect from any computer and that the D3 device was more important. (Honestly, they should have thought of this sooner, but I guess everyone's busy with school lol).

-It felt kind of weird to me how Wizarmon was showing up on TV to get Tailmon's attention, but we never really see the kids watching TV or catching any of these appearances. They kinda just stumble across him instead because Tailmon's Wizarmon's senses start tingling. Oh well, all's well that ends well...

-Very rare episode where there's no battle and the digimon only evolve to their rookie forms. I feel like this shows that the writers trusted the kids enough to sit through an episode without all the usual stuff, so that's nice.

-I'm going to go ahead and qualify this as a Halloween episode because ooky spooky

-Wizarmon continues Gennai's tradition of giving super vague and unhelpful information. Thanks for nothing! (I guess he was mainly hinting that Ken is a victim of "the darkness." Okay, Kingdom Hearts...)

-Sad Tailmon tho ;-;

#digimon adventure 02 #digimon #blind watch #anime

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blue-eyed-bloodstains · 1 year

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Where do you hang your towel to dry after showering?

usually over the shower rod

What kind of mouse pad do you have?

I don’t have a desktop, only laptop so that ‘mouse pad’ is it

Do you brush your hair with a comb or a brush?

my hair is thick as shit so combs don’t work, always brush

In your opinion, who do you think is the hottest celebrity?

oh I can name many lol

You have a project due tomorrow, do you use tape or glue?

depends on what I have, and what the project is (how detailed, the materials, etc.)

Chicken or pork?

both

By the time you get to school, is it still dark?

got* considering I graduated in 2010 (fuck I’m old) and no, the sun was already up even if it was still pretty low it was light out

If you had a choice to be a unicorn or mermaid which would it be?

normally I’d love to say mermaid but the unknown depths and darkness of the ocean fuckin terrify me and I’m not a fast runner so I’m sure I’d be too slow a swimmer to get away too lol so unicorn

What color is your underwear?

a pale lavender sorta color

What time does the sun usually set?

depends on the season/daylight savings/weather...but usually around 7-730pm it’s getting dark fast

What/who do you think of last before you go to sleep?

every damn thing imaginable :| insomnia and multiple mental illnesses are a greaaaat combo for sleep!

AC or fan?

ALWAYS BOTH 24/7, 365! yes even through winter! due to a medical condition, one of several, I overheat very easily and for long periods of time to where even both of these can’t even make a dent to cooling me down...

Do you wear braces?

no, did in the past at one point for about a year

Can you do a hand stand?

I used to be able to when I was a young kid in gymnastics and dance, but haven’t been able to since

If you were the opposite sex, how would you style your hair?

hmm...probably a slightly longer tousled look that you just wanna run your fingers through

What level English are you in?

I’m not in school but when I graduated I was in honors level English Lit 2

Jessica Simpson or Alba?

neither really, never been a big fan of either

Which subject is worse, English or Math?

Math for sure...used to ace it and love it till I moved around so much I fell so far behind everyone else, repeated the same level three times, and then was violently skyrocketed up to honors level of Algebra 2 which damn near STOPPED me from graduating that’s how bad I failed cause I couldn’t grasp anything we were learning anymore...I skated by with that one and still managed to graduate with honors but it was hell to manage that

What’s one thing you really want to do this very moment?

get violently black out drunk again..being and staying sober fucking sucks :(

What movie are you embarrassed to admit you’ve watched?

Penelope with Christina Ricci...it had its wholesome moments for the message, and I fuckin love her to death in anything she’s in but she’s the only reason I even watched it. otherwise the movie itself just...dear god what did I do...lol

CD player or iPOD?

ohhhhh iPod/iPhone now obviously, but if I’m handed a CD player you know I’m tripping hard on nostalgia with it!

Would you rather spin upside down going 30 miles or drop 400 ft. into water?

neither sound real good for me considering certain reasons...but if I had to pick, spin cause my luck the damn drop would either kill me or I’d break damn near everything in my body. haven’t you ever heard hitting water from a certain height is equivalent to hitting concrete??!

Whats your favorite shape?

hmm I’d say stars

What do you have planned for the weekend?

nothing so far, gonna see if we’re going to my fiance’s parents house for Easter dinner we haven’t seen them since early last year cause he’s barely ever home due to work

Have you ever gone ice skating?

yep

If you were put in a room with nothing except for a pencil and paper, what

…what?

Is it always easy finding your remote every time you want to watch TV?

oh dear fucking god XD noooooo! we’re constantly losing one or two together all the damn time it’s bullshit!

How was your day?

meh, bored as all hell but it’s Good Friday which means my fiance had off today so there’s that :D

Do you grow your nails, bite or cut them?

grow till a certain point then I’ll clip em, rinse repeat...usually the max point before I clip em is when I’m typing with fingerpads rather than fingertips cause my nails are in the way lol so it’s harder to type (not terribly long, just long enough past the fingertip)

Describe your handwriting:

I’ve always been one to change a few things up every now and then when I get bored of my handwriting lol but more on the rushed, a bit sloppy bubbly side overall I guess you could say

Do you consider yourself a stalker?

hell no that’s creepy

Do you bruise easily?

yep always have most of the time I never even know how or when the hell I got said bruises they just show up lol

There`s nothing on TV except Barney and Japanese news what do you do?

Roku is your friend!

Do you know more then 3 myspace codes?

no I wouldn’t even remember at this point how to even make a profile or post or anything it’s been too long

You got a essay due, you either can type or write in pen, which will it be?

type, unless specifically asked/required to write it...doesn’t really matter to me

Do you wear jeans to relax at home?

I LIVE in jeans dude XD

Describe yourself using three words.

Smart, loyal, stubborn

Do you use deodorant?

yep

Do you like ice in your drink?

yeah but I need to be careful given highly sensitive teeth

#survey #bored #random #about me

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thefanficmonster · 2 years

Text

Withdrawals

Lexi Howard x Fezco [Euphoria Season 2]

Warnings: Mentions of Drug Use, Mentioned Effects of Drug Use, Lexi’s Daddy Issues because Cassie isn’t the only one who’s got them, Swearing, Crying, Arguing, Mentioned Abandonment, Insecurities, Parental Abandonment, A TON OF ANGST

Genre: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort

Summary/Prompt: Lexi finds out Fezco is supplying her dad.

Requested by Anon. Thank you for the prompt dear! In honor of the new episode expect more Fexi fics coming out soon! Love, Vy ❤

NOTE: I was listening to Let Me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin on repeat while writing this so I made myself cry so...here’s a tip if you wanna make reading this fic even sadder - listen to the song: link :)

Lexi would’ve never thought someone as tough-as-nails looking as Fez would be so on-board with watching a romantic comedy. She didn’t even have to ask twice, all she had to do was mention how much she enjoyed watching it and the man was down, telling her to bring the CD to his house the following day - a Saturday, their assigned day for hanging out and watching movies at his place. She’d gladly welcome him into her home, but with the situation her family is currently in, she knows it’d be a bad idea. She’ll still definitely invite him over eventually, but until the boiling water cools down, it’s not exactly an option.

As the two had agreed via text the previous night, Lexi brought the CD to Fezco’s house. She was surprised to get a high-five from Ash as a greeting cause the most she’d gotten up until that point was a wave from afar or just a simple nod.

“He ain’t a hugger but who knows...“ Fez chuckled, arriving at the door just in time to catch the greeting between his brother and this girl he’s fallen so head over heels for.

What Lexi didn’t know was that Fez too was never a hugger but, as he said, who knows...

Well, now she knows because after a rom-com marathon of four movies and with the sun having set, unlike the last time they were sitting on this couch with just their fingers intertwined, she’s found herself wrapped around in his arms, his warmth causing her cheeks to redden and eyes to glint.

She isn’t sure when or how they found themselves in this position, cuddled up as if it was their automatic instinct, but she’s not complaining. However, she’s unsure of how her heart hasn’t leaped out of her chest yet. The simple hand holding that occurred about a week ago sent her in a frenzy internally as well as externally. She felt so conscious of the situation and in the best way possible. For once, she didn’t have to pretend it was a movie. It’s never been a movie with him - ok, maybe except back at the New Year’s party, she saw that as a definite movie moment that could in no way be happening to her. She’s always thought she’s too boring for movie-like encounters but looks like life doesn’t pick and choose who to put in which situation - it just knows who belongs where. And it knew she belongs with him - someone who sees her so differently in comparison to how she sees herself.

“Ok so, what’d you think?“ Lexi asks as she sits up, the movement forcing Fez to unwillingly untangle her from his embrace where he swears he could keep her and himself forever.

“’Breakfast Club’ is a classic but the other one you chose, ‘Man Up’, right? Yeah, that one surprised me. Thought it’d be shit.“ Fez answers truthfully, chuckling at the faux offended expression on Lexi’s face.

“Oh so you have doubts about my cinematic taste?“ She scoffs, grossing her arms over her chest childishly. The ginger finds it adorable, especially when he can clearly see how much she’s struggling to keep that expanding grin at bay.

“Nah, shawty, I know better than to do that...“

Halfway through his apology, a loud set of knocks comes to the door, startling them both out of their comfortable bubble they create around themselves every time they’re together.

Their reactions are in different sections of the spectrum - Lexi is confused and worried, thinking it may be someone from the Jacobs family here to harass Fez again, curtesy of her sister tattling to Cal fucking Jacobs of all people. Fezco, on the other hand, is on a tightrope between furious and terrified. The latter wouldn’t be present if Lexi wasn’t there. He can only imagine that whoever is at his door at 8 PM on a Saturday isn’t here for anything but trouble.

It’s either some asshole trying to square up for some non-existent debt or a refill Fez will have to refuse giving out. But then again it could be Rue who Lexi really shouldn’t have to see in the state in which she usually shows up at his door - desperate for a hit of something, anything.

“Fezco! I know you’re in there! Man, it’s me, it’s just me! I really need another dosage, man. I-I can’t go on like this. Withdrawal is death, I swear. Please, open this goddamn door, I’m dying!“ The man who sounds utterly hopeless and desperate screams with what seems to be his last strength as the pounding lessens, suggesting he’s losing the power to uphold it.

Fez immediately recognizes the voice as one of his regulars, a guy in his early to mid forties who’s fucked up hella and has been on and off with trying to get clean and stay sober. This is another one of those times when he breaks his streak in a moment of unbearable pain and desperation.

The drug dealer sighs, lifting his head out from between the couch cushions where it immediately flew to in order to retrieve his gun. One thing he knows is that this man is harmless, not a bad bone in his body. Just another good man turned a zombie as a result of addiction.

One thing Fezco doesn’t know, one thing he doesn’t notice is that Lexi recognizes the voice too, freezing up in her seat, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“Oh, Fezco! Thank God! Listen, I really need a hit or....“

The man’s sentence is cut short, “I ain’t got nothin’ at the house no mo’.“

“N-no, you don’t get it! That’s fucking bullshit, you must have something! Come on, Fez, don’t do this to me!“ Gus continues pleading, his hollow eyes shimmering with tears caused by the pain Fezco knows all too well - he’s seen many people go through it. Withdrawals are a bitch, but they’re a lot better than death even thought that’s how they often feel like.

“Nah, Gus, I ain’t gon’ help you fall off the wagon again. You said you’d get your shit together, get clean and go back to your family. I ain’t gonna let you break your own vow again.“ Fez stands his ground, his facial expression solemn to show sympathy but also his unwavering determination. This is far from the first time he’s tried to talk this man off the ledge of relapsing, but this time his resolve is far stronger. He has made a vow of his own to be a better man and talking this man back into a sensical state of mind is one of the more important steps he’s planning on taking on his journey to achieve that.

“He’s said that many times.“

Lexi’s voice startles both men, especially the visitor whose eyes widen at the sight of the brunette who takes a stand by Fezco’s side. It’s so unusual, so bizarre and unimaginable he thinks it’s a hallucination for a moment but when the other man acknowledges her presence too, he knows that the hallucination alternative is a lot better than reality. The reality option places him directly in front of his daughter while he’s in one of the lowest points in his life. She’s seen him hit lows before, but seems to him like he keeps sinking and sinking, each time thinking he’s hit rock bottom, but no previous experience can compare to this one. This one makes him wish the withdrawals would actually leave him dead on the doorstep. He wishes the ground would swallow him whole so he never has to see that hurt in his daughter’s eyes.

He remembers the countless times he saw that familiar disappointment in those brown orbs of hers, but that has now been replaced with dreadful hurt and pity which to him hurts as bad as he’d imagine an actual stab to the heart to feel like.

“Lex? W-what are you doing here? What are you doing with him?“ Gus settles for the option of glaring at Fez just so he doesn’t have to feel the continuous pain her gaze is inflicting on him.

Lexi doesn’t let it slide though. She steps between her dad and boyfriend, putting Gus in a position where he can’t escape the knowledge of her presence nor the look she’s giving him.

“I’d ask you the same but you already gave an answer, dad.“ She says as spitefully as she can but it fails to sound the way she wanted it to. Her shaky voice just allows both men to get a look at how broken she is and has been this entire time. Just like you don’t see the cracks on certain surfaces until the light hits them from the perfect angle, no one could see how shattered she’s been ever since her dad left up until this point.

Lexi often found herself imagining this moment, running into him again. She always saw it as an accidental and downright inconvenient and unwanted reunion at the worst place at the worst time. And damn did she get that part right. She also expected an apology but she now doubts she’ll get one. Those were reserved for Cassie and Cassie only apparently. She never paid that much mind, how much she’s been disconnected from both her parents all her life. Suze with her constant drunken state is self-explanatory, but Cassie always had their dad to a certain extent. A call, a text, a secret visit. None of that was ever given to Lexi. She remembers the phone calls she overheard between her dad and sister; she remembers seeing the two hugging in the driveway while she was peeking out the window from her and Cassie’s shared room. Even when he was around, it was evident which was his favorite daughter.

One could argue Lexi is lucky they weren’t close cause that’s the exact closeness that got Cassie so messed up, but Lexi would strongly disagree. She’s been messed up differently - the abandonment, the feeling of never being wanted or loved or appreciated or even fucking noticed.

Gus abandoned her far earlier than he abandoned Cassie.

Wiping at her tear-stained cheeks, she forces herself to continue before he gets the chance to say anything, “And, if you must know, Fezco is my boyfriend. Never imagined I’d introduce him to my dad this way but here we fucking are.”

There’s a long moment of silence during which Lexi’s gaze only intensifies, turning into a glare, tears still spilling out of her eyes and even though she has her back turned to him, Fezco feels the pain of each one that rolls down her rosy cheeks, staining her shirt. She wants to wipe them all away, wants to take her back inside and let her cry it out, get it out of her system. But she too has to go through withdrawals first, the ones caused by the emotional kind of addiction.

“Lex, don’t tell me you’re with this drug -....“ Bad move on Gus’ part. A bad move that reveals to him just how hostile Lexi can become when pushed too far.

“You have no moral high-ground here, dad! You know what, actually, why don’t you go check on your daughter?“, the last word is laced with so much hurt in the form of venom, even Fez felt his heart sting. Lexi made sure to emphasize how she’s been feeling her whole life. With just a simple phrasing of her sentence she let Gus know she’s never felt like his daughter. How could she when she’s never felt fatherly love from him? “That’d be a good idea cause she just ran the fuck away from home to live with her best friend’s ex who’s done nothing but ruin her life and make her miserable! Go check on her, I’m sure she’d appreciate it. In fact, I’m sure it’s what she needs right now, about as bad as you want your fucking drugs. So, go on.” An involuntary sob escapes her chest, a sound that tears through Fez’s as well, “I was content in my tranquility before your attempt at a caring act. You can’t make up for eighteen years of making me feel like shit with that, but then again I’m not sure if you’d even want to. I mean, I have never heard a single one of the many apologies you’ve given Cassie. But that’s ok, you also led me to believe I didn’t deserve an apology cause I wasn’t there for you the way she was. Now I’m glad I wasn’t.“

With that, she storms right back into the house, leaving behind a numb and emotionless looking Fez and a crying Gus who now, unsurprisingly, looks even more broken than before - his eyes red and glossy, skin paler.

He looks to Fez for something, anything to pull him out of his misery but he’s not asking for drugs, he’s asking for comfort or reassurance of any kind. Much to his dismay, the ginger isn’t willing to give him that either as he only offers a solemn and disappointed shake of his head before stepping back into the house, closing and locking the door behind him, waiting a few moments until he hears Gus’ footsteps leaving the vicinity and then going back to the living room where a distressed Lexi is pacing the perimeter.

“Lex....?“

“I’m fine.“ She sniffles, “I’m perfectly fucking fine. Did I make a fool of myself in front of a man who doesn’t give two fucks about me and probably hasn’t thought about me in the past...however many years he’s been gone for? - I did, but damn it felt wonderful. I always thought I’d never get a chance to tell him how I’ve felt and dealt but here we are. Don’t worry, Fezco, I feel great.“

Despite her claims of stability and wellness, Fez still takes hold of her shoulders, stopping her mid-pace and turning her around to face him. He keeps her in place, his gaze trapping hers and it’s something about those blue eyes clouded with so much guilt, concern and sadness that obliterates the hell out of her emotional walls and barriers.

“Lexi, please....“

“What was wrong with me?!“

Her words cut through the room and through Fezco like a knife. They seem to have cut through her just as badly though, leaving her to collapse into Fezco’s embrace just in time to miss the tear that leaves his eye as his arms hold her tighter than he can ever remember holding anyone in his life.

“Why didn’t he love me the same?! Why didn’t he love me at all!? Why’d I let him shape who I am?! Why did his absence affect me so much when he was never there for me in the first place?! Why was I never enough for him, for anyone?! Why am I always the one to take the blame for everything?! Last I checked, I wasn’t brought into this world to be everybody’s punching bag so why?! Why?!“

Her tears soak through Fezco’s shirt while his fall into her hair. The things he’s willing to do right now to take her pain away. The things he’d do to shield her from everything and everyone. But his fists and his gun can’t fic this. He’s got no power here and feeling helpless is some of the worst pain he’s had to deal with. His hands being tied when one of the most important people in his life needs him most.

He curses God for maybe the first time in his life, feeling his own emotional withdrawal creeping in. He’s been addicted to his numbness, the lack of emotion always served as a shield to him but right now it’s been stripped from him, leaving him exposed to the agonizing tears of Lexi Howard.

@lilaalouuxx @ciniluv @hyperfixatingmenever @rosesandallthatshit @coffeebookreadinglover @dreamingaboutyousworld @maryelizabeth13 @ateliefloresdaprimavera

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ageofzero · 2 years

Text

I was thinking the other day about being ace and moments in my past where the knowledge of the aroace spectrum might’ve helped me have words for how I was interpreting the world, and

I guess I’ll share the memory here.

So, when I was some late teenager age, probably 18+, I’d had two different relationships and wasn’t in either of them. I was in the car, I think I was driving because I got to pick the music. We were listening to Daft Punk’s “Discovery” album. My brother and I really like the music, we were bopping along, and my mom said

“Ugh, how can you listen to this? All these songs are about sex!”

I immediately protested, because no? Half the album is nonvocal and the rest are just fun dance songs? Mom what are you even saying??? I think someone else (my brother) chimed in on my side, and she might’ve insisted on her stance, but the rest of the discussion is hazy. I was annoyed with my mom for ruining an otherwise innocuous enjoyment of music.

My mom is heterosexual. My dad is heterosexual. I have a strong argument that both my biological parents have had and like having sex. In hindsight, I have no idea why the songs she perceived to be about sex bothered her, when she grew up with 80s music.

It’s not like I didn’t know about sex. I’d been around fandom for a while at that point, I’d read fanfiction and knew people wrote sexual things (and I’d read a few of them, good and bad alike). She knew I knew about sex. I had watched movies where love and sex were a hand-in-hand thing. It was acceptable for me to know about love/romance/sex at the age I was at.

And still, I did not understand what the actual hell her problem was that she needed to pull sex out of nowhere.

The point is, she saw meaning in the songs we were listening to that I didn’t.

I had seen Interstella 5555 by that point, which is how I knew about “Discovery” to begin with, and my brother and I found the CD in a local secondhand store and snapped it up immediately. I have vivid anime imagery to accompany my mental landscape of listening to the music of that album. Even so, if you had asked me my interpretation of the songs with lyrics, I’d probably still say “One More Time” is about dancing and celebration. “Digital Love” is about the crush on a girl you don’t know but keep dreaming about. “Harder Better Faster Stronger” isn’t really about anything but it’s a great workout/encouragement song for such things. Similarly, “Crescendolls”, “Superman”, and “High Life” are just fun as hell bops with vocals that aren’t really meaning anything. I don’t think “Jump into the air” repeated for the duration is some sort of sex thing. “Something About Us” is a sad love song. “Face To Face” is a confronting The Other and finding understanding somewhere in the anger. “Too Long” is the coming home after an intolerable amount of time and finding joy again. The “need” is the dancing and celebration of “One More Time”, but after some epic journey that’s changed you.

Now, I can say I kind of see where people would infer sex from music, from this album at least where lyrics are. I’ll concede to “One More Time”, “Digital Love”, and “Too Long” maybe. I still had to train myself and find the context clues for why people would think that way, though. I don’t really listen to those songs and think “huhuhuhu they’re talking about sex”, by default. And I know there are songs that are very much about sex, both in my mom’s era and in mine!

The thing I pulled out of this recollection is that, with no knowledge about asexuality (my friend wouldn’t mention their asexuality until a few years later when I was in college after I broke up with a third relationship), I didn’t have the mental tools at a late teenager age to discern a sex meaning out of these songs. My mom did, and apparently it was blatant enough for her to be offended that I was listening to and enjoying the album.

In hindsight, I would say that I might’ve taken that as a moment to consider if I was asexual if I’d known anything about it at the time. idk, I just thought someone else might resonate with the reminiscence.

#asexuality #asexual #ace life #personal #ace stories #postscript:#I mention the past relationships and my parents' like of sex #partially because it means I was growing up in conditions where I by all rights should've agreed with my mom probs #but also bc their sexualities did not prevent me from being confused by my mom #and I'm a little frustrated that people think your parents'/progenitor's sexuality transfers to you #this is specifically about Aloy in HFW but also in general #your parents pass on physical/health traits but not gender/sexuality perceptions

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aceofshitposts · 3 years

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I saw that you like CATS the musical. What are your thoughts on the movie?

AAAAH AHHAHA oh man oh boy y'all should BUCKLE IN cuz it's a ride

my simple thoughts? it's entertaining if only because it butchered the stage show so badly in an attempt to idk modernize it? Well, modernization is one part of it I think. The other part I'll go into below lol. I don't necessarily hate some of the more modern renditions of the songs (mostly the ensemble sets like Jellicle Song for Jellicle Cats) but then others are just... so poorly done it's insulting.

I've said this at the end of this whole rant too but I'm gonna put it up here in case people don't (justifiably) wanna see me go on and on about it:

The movie wasn't made for fans of the musical. It was made to make money and I believe they choose, at least partially, to do that through making it the weirdest and worst possible adaptation they could so that people would want to go see the train wreck. Which, really, worked! It was all people could talk about for a good while so like... Goal achieved, I guess.

A MUCH MORE COMPREHENSIVE ANALYSIS UNDER THE CUT cuz i don't wanna. flood your dash with... this

ALRIGHT SO. Most of my friends know I'm actually a huge fan of new adaptations of things. I love remakes (provided the people making it are coming at it with some form of heart and not just... cash grabbing which is more often the case) I love seeing other peoples interpretations of characters, or changing settings. It's one of the reasons I like American comics so much, getting to see different writers takes is fascinating.

I think musical movies can be wonderful ways to introduce people to a stage show that might have been unavailable to them otherwise! Chicago, for example, is one of the BEST musical to movie adaptations in my opinion. It kept the heart of the show, it's funny and the song numbers are done really well.

There are of course other famous examples, such as Grease or Bye Bye Birdie. Hairspray was also a wonderful take. These are simply off the top of my head, there are of course more.

CATS in particular has a history. If you go through my CATS tag you may see a few posts from @catsnonreplica which posts photos from non broadway productions of CATS! It's a fascinating read and I love, love, love looking at the other interpretations of the characters! CATS is a musical full of fun and wonderful characters if you take the time to see past the ridiculousness haha and the Korean and Japanese runs of CATS especially have some of my favourites.

How does this relate to the movie, I hear you say well. As you might has noticed the movie's interpretations of the characters is........ lackluster at best and downright uncanny valley at best.

CATS is, at its core, a ridiculous thing. I will fully admit that! But it's fun, it's entertaining and if you pay a little attention you can actually get the plot. (Honestly I don't understand when people complain it has no plot but that's a whole other rant for another day)

The movie was... obsessed with this idea of like... semi realism? Like obviously, as a fan, I think they should have leaned into the over the top character designs but instead we got...w ell:

Bombalurina:

Demeter left and Bomba right. Demeter was actually cut! From the movie which is. upsetting lmao.

Macavity is one of the worst offenders for me:

Macavity was... I wish I could know what the hell they were thinking there cuz it's even in his song? Ginger cat??? THAT IS NOT... A GINGER CAT...... but I digress. I would show more examples but I think you get the point.

So. We've butchered the characters appearances. Okay that's fine but what about their personalities?

ALSO BUTCHERED.

There's... there's a lot to unpack here. Just for context: the Jellicle Ball happens once a year and the Jellicle leader chooses a single cat to be reborn into a new life. In the stage play all the cats who are nominated for this honour are on the older side (Jenny-Any-Dots, Bustopher Jones, Skimbleshanks, Gus The Theatre Cat, and eventually Grizzabella) AND are always nominated by another cat. Not themself, unlike the movie where they all seem to nominate themselves.

Jenny-Any-Dots went from a doting grandmother figure who's celebrated for her selfless volunteering and tireless work into a conceited, vain younger cat who is obsessed with fame.

It's an incredibly strange dichotomy. I don't doubt some of it isn't the result of the uh people playing the characters honestly. I do think some of them did the best they could! I don't really blame Jason Derulo, for example, for Tugger. And honestly, Tugger was probably closest to his stage version (while being a trouble maker, he's shown to show Deuteronomy an immense amount of respect)

Speaking of Tugger! This will bring us to one of the biggest grievances with the movie and that is how they handled Mr Mistoffelees.

So... Ugh. So. We have Victoria as the pov character, which imo is like whatever in the grand scheme of things, and then we have Misto who they have decided will be get live interest cuz... Of course. Misto is shown throughout the musical to be awkward, unsure of himself and well. Really, kinda incompetent. Which is Wild cuz in the stage show he might be aloof but he's fairly confident in his powers.

So, Old Deuts gets kidnapped. In the stage show Tugger is the one to bring Misto forward! It's really quite sweet, imo, and I'm showing myself as a Tuggoffelees shipper here, but again Tugger is previously shown to be pretty conceited but then here he is boosting and hyping up Misto to bring Deuteronomy back. My friends and I have lovingly dubbed this the boyfriend hype song.

SOMEHOW. The movie manages to make this, easily, the MOST BORING number in the whole thing. Which, again, WILD. Misto awkwardly stumbles through his whole song, which again is... Boasting of his supreme magical powers which movie Misto clearly. Does not have or believe to have. The song, to me, feels super awkward and unnecessarily drawn out in the movie which sucks cuz it's one of my favourites in the show.

The declawing (heh) of Mr Mistoffelees actually reminds me strongly of how they changed Gaston in the live action Beauty and the Beast movie. He's gone from a beloved figure in the animated movie to someone so disliked in the town that Le Fou has to pay people off to say nice things about him. It's just. Wild character choices were made!!

Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat is probably my favourite in movie non ensemble number. It feels the most... Genuine? Compared to the other nomination songs.

Other problems include but are not limited to:

The inconsistent size scale of the CATS which throws me off constantly.

The weirdly overt sexual overtones added to MANY of the songs (Jenny and Bustopher being the worst)

This is just a personal gripe and opinion but I don't like that they used the UK version of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. The American version is both better known and tbh way more fun. Teazer's giggle? Adds ten years to my life every time.

Victoria's added solo song, Beautiful Ghosts, while I like the song as a song it doesn't fit the style of message of the musical. In the movie she's singing directly to Grizzabella who's being an outcast for years that she should be grateful she even has memories of being part of the tribe?? What?? But I know they had to add an original song to be able to be nominated for awards in like the Grammys n shit (which is why all musical movies will have an original song, fun fact!!) kinda funny they went to the effort though considering........... I don't think anyone could have genuinely believed CATS 2019 was gonna win anything but golden rhaspberries.

Movie Mr Mistoffelees has made repeated appearances as my sleep paralysis demon

The various cut characters, shout outs to Jemima, Demeter and Jellylorum especially

Bombalurina being a henchman to Macavity rubs me the wrong way

God I've written... So much. You probably get it by now haha. Like I said at the beginning, I try to go into any adaptation with an open mind but... Let's be honest, this movie wasn't marketed to people who are fans of the musical.

It was marketed, and made, to make money. And they choose to do that through, I think, intentionally making the worst possible version ever. Bad press is still press and the more outrageous people said the movie was the more people wanted to go see exactly what kind of train wreck it was.

Which is a disservice to the stage show, honestly, and all the people who've worked on it over the years.

But what can we do, right?

And besides all that, I do... Still own the movie version and I do still rewatch it on occasion. It is entertaining even if it's in a train wreck kind of way. I usually end up watching the 1998 version, then 2019 and then various tour runs that are on YouTube. (I highly recommend the 2016 tour, it's very good)

So in conclusion. It's fun (?) to watch. I enjoy picking things apart and doing analysis (if you couldn't tell!) so like... I don't hate it?

It did what it set out to do, I guess, and I can't fault it for that but. It's not a fair metre with which to judge the stage show imo. But I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, haha.

Jazz hands. I'm more than happy to elaborate or just chat about CATS if anyone wants! I grew up listening to the Broadway CD since I was a toddler so it's been! A very long standing obsession haha. Probably the only other thing on par with CATS is my obsession with Jurassic Park which I've also been a fan of since I was 3 (but that's a whole story in and of itself)

#astrix thoughts #cats the musical #Thanks for the opportunity to talk about one of my hyperfixations anon!#And to anyone who reads this whole mess lmao

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currywaifu · 4 years

Text

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: escape room 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: minagi tsuzuru/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.4k words, 3 images

𝐚𝐧: the combi of my love for this tsuzuru sr card + a certain enabler + my first time wearing handcuffs being in an escape room = the birth of this fic. it’s chaotic, but so is every escape room experience i’ve had. wtf is this fic.

One of the perks of having Tsuzuru as a boyfriend was that the two of you always found ways to have fun and go out on dates without spending a lot of money. Neither of you were big on splurging out a bunch of money anyway— not with you rather spending your allowance on necessities and Tsuzuru being the King of Part-timers™.

Watching community and college plays, having picnics, movie marathons, making dinner together, going grocery shopping, taking advantage of coupon sites, couples promos and happy hours to get great deals on things you wouldn’t normally be able to just for the ultimate discount...

It was domestic, it was homey, and it was Tsuzuru through and through; you loved every single second of it.

Which was why you were surprised when he suggested going to an escape room together.

“Those can be kind of pricey, right?” you replied, raising your voice slightly to make sure he could hear you despite the noise you were making in the kitchen. You turned the burner to high heat, scooching the veggies over to one side of the pan, melting the remaining butter in the other half.

“Oh, well, a friend gave me a 20% discount coupon. Apparently he didn’t need it anymore,” Tsuzuru’s voice was a little quiet coming from your phone’s speaker, and you quickly put down the soy sauce to adjust the volume before going back to the stove.

“I figured there was some kind of catch,” you replied with a soft chuckle as you continued stirring the veggies and sautéing the rice. “When do you wanna go? I know we’re both busy over the weekend, and that’s when we usually—“

Your hand halted its motions as soon as Tsuzuru uttered the word, “tomorrow.”

It wasn’t like you weren’t free, thankfully you only had one, albeit three hour, lecture during Tuesdays, but wasn’t he saying it a bit suddenly? It was a Monday evening, after all.

“Why tomorrow?”

Your boyfriend’s awkward laughter rang, but he remained undeterred as he explained to you his reasoning— going to an escape room would be a good way to get more writing experience, especially in terms of creating and feeling the ambience.

“Plus, not only is it cheaper if we go together, but the rates are also lower Monday to Thursday,” after a few seconds of silence on your part, he quickly added in, “and! And, we usually don’t have dates like this… so it’ll be fun, right?”

That thought process was so like Tsuzuru that you couldn’t help but smile.

Oh, the rice and veggies were already turning brown?

“You know what? I’m not even surprised,” you commented, adding and stirring in the rest of the ingredients. Ahhh, it was starting to smell heavenly, “by the way, have you had dinner yet?”

“About to. Excited to figure out what kind of curry we’re having,” a giggle escaped you upon hearing Tsuzuru’s deadpan voice, “are you almost done cooking?”

“Just about done!” after giving the rice a taste, you decided to season it with a pinch of salt and pepper, “thanks for giving me your fried rice recipe, by the way. Even though I’m the one cooking it, it feels like I’m about to eat something you made with love~”

As you were pretty much done with the kitchen, Tsuzuru’s exhale was a lot more audible to you. You could already envision the slight quiver in his tight-lipped grin and the way he would avert his eyes for a few seconds as he addressed you.

“Seriously, don’t be so cute,” he said, sounding a little exasperated, “sometimes I don’t know how to respond anymore.”

“A writer at a loss for words?” it was steadily getting difficult to keep the bubbling up amusement in check— you should probably be serving yourself dinner and accomplish your work for the night, but in the same manner it was always fun to flirt with the brunet. “When you put it that way, it makes me want to act even cuter for y—“

“Anyway!” you couldn’t hold back your laughter at his sudden interruption. Alright, that was enough for the both of you tonight.

“So are you free tomorrow?” he asked.

Well, who were you to be able to say no to that?

You completed signing the waiver the staff asked you to fill out, before turning to Tsuzuru.

“I forgot to ask, but which room are we playing? They have, like, 3 different ones here.”

Your eyes followed where Tsuzuru’s pointer finger landed— a simple but eerie poster in black and white, the three masks you could commonly see in craft stores plain and copies of one another, save for one thing. The first mask had gloved hands atop its eyeholes, the second had them covering where the ears would be, and the third had them placed over the lips.

Domain of Discernment.

“I don’t know much about it, but it’s one of the more popular ones. Apparently we’ll be held captive by some serial killer named Sire Maniac, and we’ll have one of our senses taken away,” he explained. Before he could potentially say anymore, one of the personnel went over to bring you right by the room entrance.

After giving a brief rundown of rules and some info about the room itself, she brought out an unused pair of foam earplugs and a blindfold. “Since there’s only two of you, we’ll be taking out the not being able to speak part. Both of you, choose who gets their sight or hearing removed for 50 minutes.”

You and Tsuzuru turned to look at each other, quietly discussing amongst yourselves which option would be more beneficial, coming to the conclusion that you would be the one to don the blindfold and he’d be the one with the earplugs.

“You might accidentally fall asleep if you had the blindfold,” you joked, “besides, I trust you to be able to guide me.”

Not one to be a killjoy or cheat, he plugged in the foam properly as you get your blindfold tied securely by the woman, making sure it definitely wouldn’t loosen up midway through the game.

When the both of you are within the room already, the both of you hear (well, Tsuzuru lip-reads) the woman say one more thing.

“After hand-cuffing you two and I leave the room, the timer will start. Good luck.”

… hand-cuffing?

With a sound of a click and seeing the door shutting from the distance, the both of you knew the timer would be counting down from 50 right about now.

You’re the first to speak up. You’re unsure where he’s facing right now, so you pulled your left hand knowing the pull of the metal chain would catch his attention, and you were right.

At the slight pressure on his right hand, he turned to face you with a hum leaving his mouth, and unexpectedly finding himself stupefied at the sight of you. You opened your mouth to say something, and he can excuse himself all he wanted that it was him not used to lip-reading yet, but he knew it wasn’t the truth.

He felt a little guilty, really. You both knew how flustered or embarrassed he could get around you, but how blissfully unaware you must be right now that his brain was literally mush because of your blindfolded self and how you were handcuffed to him. He, well, he never thought… no, he could never—

Time to kill that train of thought. Right now.

He should really be responding to you right now. What… what were you saying?

“You want me to describe our… surroundings?” he sighed in relief as you nodded. Okay, at least a part of him was still functioning properly. All he had to do was focus on that and not hyper focus on you.

The two of you were in a cell of sorts— barred, jail doors preventing your exit into a much larger room, which inevitably would lead to a door the both of you would escape to.

Though the jail room was significantly smaller, there were an assortment of items to sift and look through— boxes with and without locks, some papers scattered on a small desk, a lampshade that was left turned off, and a CD player were what stood out the most to him.

After relaying it to you, you pulled him again by your shared shackles as you asked him to read out what was in the papers—the first, a hint on how to figure out the number combination to unlock one of the boxes and a code decryption guide.

The second, a torn page from a “book” of either plants or poisons, based on the content and stylisation. Atropa belladonna, also known as deadly nightshade.

“Why are shade and floor highlighted though?”

Another pull on the cuffs. Another look at you— and trying not to be awkward about it as he combined his lip-reading with whatever the earplugs couldn’t block out of your voice.

“Shade? You said there was a lamp shade, right? Maybe a key or something is hidden under there?” you suggested, a pout set on your lips, “don’t know what the relevance of floor is, though.”

He didn’t have to look very far, the papers being situated on the desk beside the lampshade. It’s in his second time staring though that he realised something’s off with it. “You’re right, there’s something in the lampshade.”

When he lifted the bell-shaped cover, he’d come to find that there was no lightbulb in the first place, but a thin flashlight cleverly inserted within a vase. “If there’s a flashlight in the vase, then—“

“Shine a light on the floor!” you exclaimed, excited at the prospect of being able to move forward with the game, despite not being able to see.

Doing just that, he swished the flashlight left and right, verbally listing all the letters he could see.

“X, O, I, C, T…” you repeated, before trying to clap your hands (keyword: trying to, handcuffs say no), “the order is toxic! So the encrypt—“

“I’ll decode it ASAP,” Tsuzuru replied, immediately referring to the guide the “killer” oh so graciously left there.

“The passcode is… 420652,” he fumbled with the digits on the only 6 numbered padlocked box, before grinning, “alright, we got it!”

Another tug, and at this point he’s already aware that tug or pull on the cuff equals you having something to say.

“If they were gonna do a 420 joke, they should’ve inserted a 666 joke for the full eerie, creepy effect.”

Okay, just how was he able to lip read that perfectly? Was he just that used to the dumb jokes you made?

“I can just imagine your dream escape room— all the hints and puzzles are meme related,” the earplugs were unable to block your laugh, ringing through the room as he opened the box. A key, and a CD.

Knowing that between the two remaining boxes left, one of them needed a key so that was pretty much solved. The disc, on the other hand…

He called your name, you turning to face him based on the direction of his voice. “Since there’s a CD player and a CD, and unless I go really close I wouldn’t be able to hear anything—“

“I’ll listen carefully, no sweat!”

“I swear, if I hear the word wall another time, I will scream... and this isn’t even a horror room!”

The two of you came across your first real obstacle. Your audio just talked about poisonous vines growing on walls and other surfaces, while his box just contained another note that neither of you could decipher whatsoever. For five minutes, the two of you stood there, pondering.

Every once in a while, Tsuzuru would check the giant timer— currently displaying that 35 minutes were left.

“… honestly, just give it to me,” you suddenly spoke, Tsuzuru’s shoulders going up in shock.

“Give what?”

“The box! While we try to figure it out, I’ll use my nonexistent luck to just guess the passcode somehow,” you explained, feeling up the type of padlock it was “it’s just rolling everything around anyway until it magically opens.”

Within less than a minute, you had figured out the passcode.

“I’m—“ Tsuzuru trailed off, clearly just as shocked as you were. Your eyes probably would’ve been wide open right now.

“Eye… so this is where all my luck went,” you said, before shaking your head to refocus yourself, “okay! So inside the box is a… another key? It has buttons… car key?”

You hand the object to the brunet, who, upon taking it from you spared no second in his next actions.

“Wall,” he said out loud, pointing the car keys at the wall. With one press of a button, the wall, slowly but surely, opened to reveal another room. Though you couldn’t see it, the sound was loud enough to amaze you as well.

“Worm,” you breathed out, “pretty lit, not gonna lie.”

You wouldn’t know but the room was actually extremely dark, so not lit at all. Thank god he had a flashlight or else the handcuff + your blindfold + him not being able to lip read combo would be… particularly deadly.

The misunderstandings, he could already imagine it. Ah, well, for the writing experience.

“I don’t know what worm means, but yeah, lit.”

“Sorry,” Tsuzuru apologised as he bumped into you for the nth time.

Obstacle number two was unlike any other. It wasn’t another audio recording, neither a puzzle nor riddle.

“Ah, shit, sorry!” you shouted for the nth time, raising your voice as much as you could so Tsuzuru would be able to hear you properly.

This was getting ridiculous. You were able to figure out the meaning of an audio file after a few loops, while Tsuzuru got to work reading more clues and unlocking locks. The real problem, however, was since the room was dark and had limited space, the two of you tended to crash against one another even with what limited movement you could make.

You had to wonder— did the staff get some sort of amusement or feel any pity watching people stumble around in this room through the CCTV? It wasn’t so bad in the jail room, but this closet? storage? room gave you two a run for your money. How did other people get through this room, genuinely? Especially the bigger parties?

“… I have an idea,” Tsuzuru mentioned. You wait for him to tell you what it is, his hesitance confusing you. However, before you could have said anything, you felt his strong arms wrapped around you.

Was… was there an equivalent to a verbal keyboard smash? Even if you weren’t saying it out loud to save you the embarrassment, the fact still stood that your brain was legit going ztesxrdctijmoljhnge right now. Help—

“How does this… help?” you asked, still a little confused by his motive. He wasn’t really one for PDA, and despite the two of you being the only ones in the room the fact still stood that the escape room staff are probably required to glance at the CCTV monitors every once in a while to check up on you two.

“Since we’re… handcuffed, and there’s barely any space it’d be better to just stay together,” he explained as nonchalantly as possible, “sorry, it’s just for this room. We’ll go back to normal when we get to the last room.”

See, if your brain was working right now, you’d be able to think of a counter or a better solution— actually, if you could see right now maybe you could point out something about Tsuzuru’s face that screamed he was lying, but something about escape rooms just made your logic go brrr.

That, or you were just a simp for your own boyfriend.

… not gonna lie, the chances of it being both were pretty high.

“Makes sense. Can’t bump into each other when you’re already stuck together,” you said, already convincing yourself.

Sorry to whoever’s manning the CCTV monitor, it was their fault for handcuffing the two of you anyway.

Well, this set up wasn’t that bad. Other than, you know, getting to hug Tsuzuru, you were able to still keep doing your task while he did—

You heard the padlock unlock after your fingers pressed a certain combination of numbers. Pushing the device upwards, the cabinet doors opened as you removed the lock.

“It’s a digit push combination padlock! How are you doing this? Blindfolded?”

“I… I have guessing powers. For locks.”

“I’m considering robbing a bank or business with you now.”

“Awww, cute couple’s date idea!”

After two or three minutes of Tsuzuru doing some last minute riddle solving, the sound of jingling keys and him letting go of you let you know of one thing— you two were almost out.

With a writer compromising one half of the team, and an exceptional guesser and context clue figure-outer as the other half, you weren’t gonna lie— the last room was kind of anti-climatic to go through.

…

SIKE!

Every time the two of you ever accomplished anything, be it decrypting a message, unlocking something, or finding a hidden item the two of you still reacted to it— Tsuzuru being more on the shookt side and you being on the hype side.

With fifteen minutes to spare, only one thing was left to do— finding who Sire Maniac’s real name, and then decoding that name into number form so you could use it on the exit’s number pad lock. It was pretty obvious to you that you had to use the number equivalents of the name, but first… you needed to know the name.

“You sure you don’t want to try your luck?” Tsuzuru teased, procuring a huff out of you.

There were only two clues. The first was a letter to an A. R. Nicolas, detailing something about being thankful for a book.

Initially, the two of you thought that that A. R. Nicolas would be his real name, but clearly it was some sort of pen name based on the second clue— several torn pages from a book penned by the very same A. R. Nicolas the letter was addressed to.

It was clear— Sire Maniac and A. R. Nicolas were the same person, but what was his third identity? His real identity?

“What are the poisons on the torn pages again? Those usually have something to do with the answer,” you asked Tsuzuru. The sound of shuffling of paper entered your ears as he began listing them off.

“Ricin, amatoxin, tetradotoxin, chloropicrin, batrachotoxin… and arsenic.”

“Huh… arsenic is the only one that ends differently, lol,” you pointed out with a laugh, before it quickly died as the realisation dawned on you, “no fucking way.”

“Okay what the hell, I think you’re on to something,” Tsuzuru replied hastily, “because A. R. Nicolas, as in A. R. Nic. Arsenic.”

“Tsuzuru. Tsuzuru. Tsuzuru—“ you chanted, before laying out one last game-changer, “Sire Maniac. Is a fucking anagram. For I am Arsenic.”

With a speedy enter of the number 2773642, the two of you had achieved freedom.

“Not gonna lie, some parts of it were a little cliche, but… I had fun,” you told him, the two of you walking home together, “I felt simultaneously dumb and a genius at the same time.”

“Same to both, honestly,” Tsuzuru replied, before looking down at your hand linked with his. “Huh, haven’t you had enough of being stuck with me?”

You rolled your eyes. “I could say the same to you— didn’t you totally take advantage of us being handcuffed together? Or me being blindfolded?”

It was just a joke, but Tsuzuru’s sudden sputtering caught you off guard. Did… aha, no way, did he actually enjoy that gimmick?

“Tsu~ zu~ ru~”

“Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it—“

“Are you sure? Because—“

“You’re misunderstanding something.”

“I’m just saying, it’s better to be honest~”

As the stoplight turned red, the two of you finally found the time to take a good look at each other. The laughter that erupted was instantaneous.

“Thanks for going out with me today,” Tsuzuru said softly, the blooming smile on his face impossible for you to not mirror.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you replied, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

After a few seconds, the stoplight turned green, and the two of you continue making your way back home.

want to order again?

𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬: ⤷ curium fairway (the person who sent arsenic the letter) is an anagram for “i am currywaifu”.

⤷ the “reader is good at guessing part” is just based off of me. being really good at guessing padlock combinations. ⤷ the hugging part was based on my two irl friends (who are dating) hugging in front of the cctv

⤷ the “one sense gets removed” and “being handcuffed to someone” part is based on two different escape rooms i played

⤷ i wasn’t supposed to make a whole concept for the escape room with media and riddles... but i decided to finally make use of all the research i did before on poison. am i on a watchlist?

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#tsuzuru minagi #tsuzuru minagi x reader #minagi tsuzuru #cafe: dessert menu #a3! tsuzuru #a3! imagines #a3! x reader

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 2 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| chapter 1

A/N: hiii, this is chapter 2 of this lemyanka childhood friends, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers whatever you wanna call it. I really wanted to play with the time skips to show different parts of their lives together throughout the years so this is a continuation from chapter 1 a few years later. thanks for reading <3

-2-

At the age of thirteen, there were many things Priyanka loved. The list included: electric blue glittery nail polish, writing her name with a golden pen, pop music and girl groups-especially Britney Spears and The Spice Girls-, any movie with Lindsay Lohan in it, acting in the school productions -especially if she got the main role-, sleepovers over Lemon’s house where they secretly watched The O.C., seeing films with Lemon without an “adult” with them, re-acting scenes of the Cheetah Girls movie with Lemon…

She was at Lemon’s a lot.

The thing was, Lemon was the only child of her parent’s marriage, her parents both worked, and most of the time she had the house on her own. For Priyanka -who lived with her siblings and her parents and couldn’t spare one second of privacy at her own home- it was like paradise. They did everything together, on the weekdays they did homework together and afterward, they would lay in the blonde’s room reading magazines and cutting pictures of celebrities and clothes they liked, or listen to a new CD they had been saving for weeks to buy for hours until they knew the lyrics by heart.

Her room had yellow walls -big shocker- and it was covered in posters and pictures with Priyanka, white carpet on the floor, and a mix of Barbie dolls and makeup over the boudoir. She also had a large single bed only for herself with like a million fluffy pillows they had shared more than once.

Lemon had ballet classes three times per-week and Priyanka had rehearsals with the drama club but those were the only moments they were apart. Being childhood friends, their parents got into the obligation of sending them to the same primary school after finishing kindergarten and now they would attend the same secondary school once summer was over.

It was a warm day of summer, Lemon rolled over her bed and showed Priyanka an item she liked, Crazy in Love by Beyoncé played on the radio while the other girl was trying to cover a pimple on her chin with some foundation she had bought in the mall.

“You’re going to make it worse.” Lemon made her remove her hands.

“It hurts, it’s like a little red dot full of hate.”

“Use toothpaste instead.”

“Does it work?”

“Allegedly.” She shrugged. “I read it somewhere.”

“Okay… What did you want to show me?”

“Look at these,” she pointed at a picture of Hillary Duff. “I need those shoes.”

“That’s a pump.” Priyanka said, unimpressed.

“But it’s pink and yellow. How you don’t like the gradient in the colors? I’m in love.”

“Can you even walk with heels?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I can. When you’re short like me, you gotta have some options.”

Priyanka couldn’t argue with that, for her age she was already one of the tallest girls in the classroom. Sometimes she disliked being that tall, she felt like a little deer that couldn’t control its feet, wobbling around awkwardly.

Her best friend flipped a few more pages.

“Look! It’s a poster of Ryan Gosling from that movie… The Notebook.” She sounded excited.

Right. They were supposed to be excited about handsome muscle guys but there was something about it that didn’t click with Priyanka. She thought maybe she was just too young to get it, that when she’d grow older she’d get the feeling but until then, she had become very good at pretending.

“Oh, he’s so hot.” She hoped Lemon didn’t notice the fakeness of her voice.

“I know, right?” She giggled. “Do you want his picture?”

“Ah… you can keep it… I already have Leonardo DiCaprio’s and that’s just too many white guys.”

“Alright.” She picked a pair of scissors and started cutting the actor’s silhouette. The pair of dark-framed glasses she had on kept sliding down her nose bridge.

Priyanka smiled fondly at it.

“I’m home!” It was Lemon’s mom that had just returned from work.

Lemon jumped out of the bed and stood in the door’s frame. She looked even smaller in that oversized t-shirt of the Powerpuff Girls and shorts she wore as pajamas. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail that brushed her shoulder blades.

“Hi, mom.” She yelled. “Priyanka’s here!”

“Hi, Priyanka!”

“Hello, Mrs. Baptsita!”

Priyanka adored Mrs. Baptista, she was a little wacky for Lemon’s taste but it was because she was younger than most moms with kids their age. She liked Priyanka and she supported their friendship since kindergarten, called them the Ketchup&Mustard duo since that Halloween they had matching costumes.

“Is she staying for dinner?”

Lemon turned around. “Are you staying for dinner?”

Priyanka shrugged. “Sure.”

“She is mom!”

“I’m making spaghetti!”

“Sound good!” She turned back to Priyanka again. “I hope you like spaghetti.”

“You know I do.”

Just a couple of minutes later, they heard the sound of Mr. Baptista’s car at the entrance.

“That’s my dad.” Lemon pointed.

“Hello, I’m home.”

“Hi, dad! Priyanka’s here.”

“Hi Lemon drop, hi Priyanka!”

“Hello, Mr. Baptista!”

Lemon grinned but not even five minutes later than her father’s arrival, the vibe of the kitchen changed and it was clear by the sound of their voices, her parents were arguing. Another argument…

“I swear to God… this is the third time this week."

Lemon sat on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. She looked tired.

Priyanka gently touched her knee offering some comfort. Lemon pulled a weak smile that faded as soon as the voices increased in volume.

"Hey, I have some extra cash, wanna get some pizza?” Priyanka offered.

Lemon bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Lemon changed her shorts for pants and put on a pair of sneakers, then she grabbed her keys and both of them were out of the house. It wasn’t that late yet and there was a pizza place a few blocks away they could get on foot; they walked in silence until Lemon’s house was behind, then the blonde let a big sigh out of her chest.

“Pri, I can’t do this…” She sounded fragile as if she was holding the pieces together trying not to break with all her strengths.

Priyanka ran her arm over her shoulder and held her when she seemed about to fall.

“It’s okay, I’m sure they are going to work it out.”

Lemon snorted. “They started going to couple’s counseling and it got worse, they have pretty solid arguments to fight now.”

Priyanka covered her mouth holding back the laughter. “Sorry.”

“You dumb bitch.” Lemon shook her head.

They walked hugged like that the rest of the way, ate greasy pizza with extra cheese, and returned to a sepulchral silent house. Priyanka laid on the bed next to her, so close yet so far. If she extended her hand just a little more, she could touch her shoulder, make sure she was okay but for some reason, she couldn’t. Yet, she hoped that being there for her friend was enough then.

On the other side, Lemon had her eyes wide open, unable to drift off when her mind was going through a million different scenarios. Everything could only go downhill from there.

They didn’t know at that moment but the worst was yet to come.

She dashed out of the house as soon as she got the phone call, barely having the chance to put on a helmet before grabbing her bike. Priyanka was still catching her breath by the time Lemon opened the door.

Her face was bathed in tears, her eyes completely red and she couldn’t stop crying not even to explain what had happened. Priyanka had a vague idea judging by what was said on the phone but it wasn’t until she saw her friend she knew it was bad. Very bad.

Lemon wasn’t the most physically affectionate person in the world but she let Priyanka hug her and cried it out on her chest. They sat on the porch until the blonde began to calm down and could explain it better.

“Pri, they… they are getting divorced. It’s all happening so fast.”

Priyanka held her hand and squeezed it lightly. Lemon looked at her hand and then at her face, her eyes flooded with tears again.

“Hey,” The brunette tried to comfort her. “I’m so sorry, I know you love them both and they love you very much but this is probably for the best.”

“No, Pri, you don’t understand. They are… separating for real. They talked about lawyers and My mom she…” Lemon sobbed. “She wants us to move out…”

“Oh, I mean, that’s normal like-”

“…to New York.” Her voice was weak, defeated.

It took Priyanka a moment to process the newly acquired information.

“New York?!” She repeated in disbelief.

“Apparently, she has a job offer there, and… they think it’s for the best to put some distance between them.”

“I get the ‘moving out thing’ and the distance but that’s a completely different country!”

“I know! That’s what I said. Tell me I’m right, she’s out of her mind.”

“But wait, when does she want you to move out? What about school?”

“She thinks it’s a good idea if we go before the new semester starts so we can settle in and…”

“No, the new semester starts in two weeks… What about your dance lessons? Your life here?”

What about us?

“She said there are plenty of dance academies over there… That I would do fine. I hate it. This doesn’t go with the plan we had.”

Priyanka and Lemon had a life plan since they were ten, sealed with a pinky promise. They were going to graduate high school together and go to university in Toronto where they both would be roommates throughout college. It was their way of being together, to accomplish things in the company of the other, a sign of their unbreakable friendship.

“Wait but… what about your dad?” Can’t you stay with him?“ There was a hint of hope in Priyanka’s voice.

Lemon stared at the wooden floor of the porch for the longest time before looking back at her friend.

"I can’t. My dad travels a lot for business and while he’s going to remain here… my mom gave me no choice. They even said that it’s either New York or some boarding school in Quebec.”

Lemon surely had gone mad about it for her parents to threaten her like that, it didn’t sound like the Baptistas at all.

“This can’t be…” Priyanka shook her head. The tears felt warm on her cheeks.

“We’re leaving next week.”

“No…no, that’s… that’s too soon. You can’t leave… who’s going to help me buy a new outfit for the first day? Who’s going through the first day of school with me?”

“I hate to think about it. They really think this is for the best and then decide to drag me to a different country for the first year of school… «You have to be reasonable» they said, but they are the ones that come with these ideas out of blue.”

It was too sudden it made Priyanka felt dizzy; she couldn’t even begin to imagine what her friend was feeling like.

She squeezed her hand again. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that but-” Lemon shook her head.

“Because it is going to be okay. I promise you, we’ll still be together, and… maybe we don’t get to attend the same high-school but we can still go to college together, the plan can still work out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely. You’re my best friend in the world; nothing is going to change that.”

Lemon smiled for the first time after getting the news of her parents’ divorce.

“Thanks, Pri.” She went for a hug and was received with open arms.

They hugged for a while without saying a single word, in that situation, words were unnecessary.

The day of Lemon’s moving, ironically the sun was shining and Priyanka kept reminding herself that in different circumstances they’d be at the park with their bikes or at the local pool but no, she was heading to her best friend’s house to say the last goodbye.

Priyanka hadn’t cried in front of her since that day on the porch but she had cried a lot when no one was seeing her. She was sad, upset, and mad about the situation but she didn’t want Lemon to leave with a sad note. So she went ahead and planned a week dedicated to her best friend, to enjoy the things they loved the most.

They had made each other friendship bracelets with their names –Priyanka was red and orange and it had a little golden star hanging next to her name; Lemon’s was pink and yellow and a butterfly next to hers- they had movie nights and sleepovers, karaoke sessions and dancing marathons every day until that awful day arrived.

Priyanka rode her bike like she had done millions of times before. There was a «FOR SALE» sign hanging outside and she hated it with all her soul. There was a truck parked outside as well with many boxes stacked inside and some furniture pieces they were taking to New York. Lemon was sitting on the porch’s stairs with a backpack on, the scene was oddly familiar and for a second time stopped.

She didn’t notice Priyanka’s presence until the brunette touched her shoulder.

“You’re here.” She said and did her best to smile.

“Where else I’d be?”

Lemon stood on her feet and hugged her, Priyanka hugged her back.

“Promise me you’re going to wait for my calls every week… and that you’re not going to have another best friend… ever.” Lemon sobbed on her shoulder.

“I promise it.” Priyanka patted her back in a calming gesture.

“I’ll visit on holidays, my dad is probably going to get a shitty apartment but still, I’ll be here.”

“I know you will.”

Lemon let go of her embrace. “Thank you, Pri. You’re my best friend in the world.”

“I know, right?”

The blonde giggled. “You’re so stupid…”

“Luce, get in the car, it’s time to go.” Her mom called her as she carried one last box.

“I have to go now. I already said good-bye to my dad; he had a flight to catch early but… It feels so empty without him here.”

“Lemz, I’m sorry.” She hugged her one more time. It was quick but it lingered. “Take care and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do in New York.”

“That sets the bar very low, don’t you think?”

Priyanka laughed. “I’ll miss you like crazy.”

“Me too.”

Lemon’s mom waved in their direction, the car was already on and the truck was closed and packed.

“Well, I guess this is our goodbye for now.”

“Count the days because I’m going to be back in no time, okay?”

She nodded.

“Love you, Pri.”

“Love you too.”

And with that said, Lemon started walking toward the car. It was painful to watch her leave but Priyanka didn’t want to look away, she wanted to remember it all until they could meet again.

The car started moving but stopped abruptly as Lemon opened the door and ran back to where Priyanka was.

“Lemon, what…?”

“I almost forgot, I was supposed to give you this the first day of school but…” She was out of breath. Suddenly a brand new CD of Spiceworld was on Priyanka’s hands. “You were so sad when your sister broke the one you had worked so hard to buy and I thought…”

Priyanka was hugging her again. “Oh, Lemon…”

“Please don’t forget me.”

Her mom honked at them, the truck was already hitting the road.

Lemon walked back and this time, she left for real.

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #can1 #priyanka #lemon #lemon x priyanka #childhood friends #friends to lovers #lesbian au #timeskips #angst #come home to my heart #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome #tw mentions of divorce

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fallen-gravity · 4 years

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Fightin’ Back Chapter 3

Chapter Notes: Final stretch, boys! This is the last chapter that takes place in season one before we get into the heavier themes of season two. Boyz Crazy this time, and probably the only emotional hurt/comfort chapter of the entire fic.

So, uh, this has actually been up on AO3 for a few days already, but it completely slipped my mind to post the tumblr link until now. My bad 😂

AO3

The car is uncomfortably quiet as Stan pulls away from Lookout Point. Dipper’s leaning against the passenger side door, staring into the mirror like if he stares at Wendy long enough she’ll notice and chase after them to apologize to him for snapping at him. Stan taps at the steering wheel rhythmically, just to get some sort of noise to break the tension in the air, and Dipper sighs.

It’s sad, really. The kid had been so excited to split Wendy and Robbie up before they left that he tried to insist on driving the golf cart up there himself. But he had no idea where Lookout Point even was, and Stan was sure someone was finally going to notice that the golf karts were stolen from the Northwest Golf Course, so he offered to drive him there in the car instead. And even then, the kid had been so excited he was bouncing in his seat the entire drive over. Stan’s sure he would’ve neglected the seatbelt altogether if he hadn’t reached over and clicked it into place for him. He was going on and on and on about code deceptions and the supernatural and how Robbie must’ve gotten the CD at some evil black market, or maybe he really did burn the CD himself and he’s secretly a vampire demon or something, and how that reminds him that he should “try mixing some salt into his spray bottle of holy water the next time he’s out demon hunting”, but now that everything’s over and done with and Wendy bitterly insisted she’d rather walk home than be with any of them right now, Dipper’s looking more like a sick puppy limping home with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Ah, don’t think too much into it, kid” Stan says, and Dipper finally breaks free from his mirror trance to spare him a defeated look in his eyes. “The breakup’s still fresh. I bet by this time tomorrow she’ll be all over you, swooning over how you saved her from that horrible monster”.

Dipper doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow at him and goes right back into staring out the window. Least they’re too far away for him to still be staring at Wendy out the rear view mirror.

“I mean it!” Stan barks a laugh. “Never got to finish that story I was telling you earlier. So after Carla ran off with that hippie, I stuck around to see how things were going with her. I was sure there was something about him that he wasn’t telling her.” He pounds at his chest with one of his fists. “And I was right! Turns out the dude’s guitar was, uh, cursed. So one day while he was sleeping I broke into his apartment and smashed the thing to pieces. After he had nothing left to show for himself, Carla came running back to me. Even drove the guy’s van into the ravine just so he couldn’t bother us again”

There’s a hint of a smile on Dipper’s face. “I don’t think I’d sink low enough to break the law, Grunkle Stan.” He pulls himself away from the window. “Plus I thought you said she hated you for doing that"

Stan taps at his head. “You gotta work on your listening skills, Dips. I said he hated me for doing that”

Dipper rolls his eyes at him, the most Dipper thing he’s done since getting back in the car to head home.

“Look, my point is, you gotta learn to look at things more positively. Maybe she wants nothing to do with you now, but tomorrow? You never know”.

Dipper flinches at the idea, but this time when he sighs it sounds more like he’s trying to calm his own nerves than like he’s trying not to cry.

Stan pulls the car up to the back of the shack and unlocks the door. He steps out, and just as he’s about to head into the house he turns heel to talk to Dipper before the kid has time to run past him up to his bedroom to mope. “How’s about we sit in the living room with a couple a’ Pitt Colas and watch a movie to forget about the whole ordeal? Your choice”

Dipper mumbles something about movie night to himself, but only responds to Stan’s offer with a shrug. “I’m not in the mood. You can go in without me. I’ll come in when I’m ready”

Yeah, okay, Stan’s not buying that for a minute. He knows by now that when Dipper starts moping, the kid isn’t gonna move for hours. It’ll be two in the morning before he decides to come in, and even later if he accidentally falls asleep.

No mention that there’s child protection laws against leaving kids in locked cars.

…and that car-eating tree monster Stan’s sure he’s read about in that first Journal.

Screw it.

Stan gets back in the car, but Dipper doesn’t so much as blink when Stan closes the door behind him. Stan’s willing to believe that it’s because Dipper assumed he went inside, and whoa, okay, whoever put the idea in the kid’s head that he’s not worth the time of day is gonna need to start answering questions fast.

He turns the keys to start the ignition, and Dipper nearly jumps out of his skin when his door clicks locked on him. “Grunkle Stan?” he asks, once he realizes the car is pulling away again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Y’got cotton in your ears? I told you before, kid, I’m taking you bowling”

“Right now? I thought you were just saying that to make me feel better”.

“I was!” Stan flashes a grin. “But I never specified that you had a choice in the matter, now did I?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue, but before he can get so much as a word out, Stan speeds out of the driveway so quickly that Dipper’s head whacks against the headrest of his seat.

~~~~~~~

Friday nights are usually the busiest day of the week for the bowling alley, but when you know exactly the right kind of people and have just the right amount of bribe money in your pocket, you can waltz in and get any lane you want as fast as you want.

Dipper, despite all of this, doesn’t seem as thrilled about the idea of bowling as Stan is.

“Aw, c’mon, kid” Stan gently nudges him with his elbow. “I’m letting you go first! Everyone knows the person who gets to bowl first is the person you need to beat. It’s a privilege, if you ask me”

“I dunno, Grunkle Stan” he fiddles with the laces of his sneakers. “I appreciate the gesture, and all, but...I’m just not feeling up for it tonight”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Not up for beating me at something you know you can hold over me the rest of the summer?” He scooches closer to Dipper on the bench. “Now I know something’s really wrong. This still about Wendy?”

He winces at the mention of her name like he’d just been slapped in the face, and Stan sighs.

“Look, Dips…” he pauses, trying to figure out to work around making this sound like the most awkward conversation he’s ever had with...anyone, let alone his own nephew. “Who needs women, am I right?” He raises the can of soda he’d bought from the snack bar in a toast, but Dipper only rubs at his arm awkwardly.

There’s gotta be something that’ll get Dipper to understand how many times Stan’s found himself in the exact same situation.

Well, okay, Stan knows exactly what’ll get him to understand, but if he goes around telling so much as Mabel, the kid’s dead to him.

He sighs. “Kiddo, if you repeat what I’m about to tell you, you’re dead. Not just to me, I’m talkin’ dead dead. Got it?”

That seems to be enough to catch his attention. “O-of course” he repeats, like Stan’s about to tell him the secrets to unlocking the universe. It almost makes Stan wish that his story were more interesting.

“Truth is, that story I told you about Carla ain’t exactly how it actually went”

Dipper blinks. “I…know. You told me that earlier”

“No, I mean…” Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I mean, none of it was true. Obviously nobody rocketed off into the sky on a rainbow, or anything, but...Carla and I hadn’t even been dating anymore”

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, and Stan chuckles.

“Well, we had been dating, y’see? But she’d just broken up with me a few days ago when I decided to stop over to the Juke Joint to see if she’d wanted to talk about changing her mind” he raises his hands in defense. “I only went in to talk. Scout’s honor, or...whatever it is your sister says.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I get in there, and that hippy really is playing his transcendental music up on this tiny stage they had there”.

He takes a hard swig of his soda like it was a shot glass. “But Carla was up there with him, y’see? She was singing to some...weird folksy song that I’d never heard of before. Didn’t even sound like she was singing in English.” He leans back on the bench, resting his hands at the back of his head as he turns his gaze to Dipper. “That’s how I knew I lost her for good. So instead of causing a scene like some kinda....jerk”, he catches himself, “I ran out into the parking lot and hotwired her new boyfriend’s van and hightailed it outta there”.

The gaze that Dipper gives him is sympathetic, but he’s also covering his hand over his mouth like he’s trying not to giggle.

“See? What’d I tell ya?” Stan flashes a grin. “You don’t need girls to show you a good time” he raises his drink towards the television screen above their bowling lane, still flashing with Dipper’s name. “You can always have a great time with your Grunkle Stan! No chance of eventual heartbreak with me”

“I know, I know…” Dipper stands to play his turn, and pretends the weight of the bowling ball doesn’t tip him over as he chucks it down the lane. The ball careens off to the side at the last second, barely even scraping the surface of the pins. “But I don’t think that’s entirely what’s bothering me” His second throw knocks down all but two pins, leaving him with a seven-ten split. The screen switches to flashing Stan’s name, and Dipper turns to him as he returns to his seat.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Stan stands, pretending to appear dismissive in case it’s something Dipper doesn’t want to admit with all eyes on him. “You tellin’ me I just told you my biggest secret for nothing?”

Dipper blushes. “N-no! That’s not what I meant”. He sighs, looking down at his hands. “I mean, Wendy’s really one of the first people to really...accept me into her friend group.” This time he’s the one waving a defensive hand in the air. “Not that I’m saying I’ve never had friends before,” he squeaks, “...but they’ve felt…forced? Since Mabel and I were in a lot of the same friend circles, it just...always felt like they liked her better than me and only let me tag along because they knew I was related to her, or something”

Wow, okay, that hits way closer to home than Stan was expecting it to. He opens his mouth to comment, but it turns out that he’s not talking.

“But in comes Wendy, and y-yeah! Maybe some of it has to do with...other things” his face is turning pink, and he’s trying to hide in his vest. “But she’s so cool to me, and it doesn’t feel at all like she’s just using me to get to Mabel. Her friends like to make babysitting jokes whenever we tag along with them, but with Wendy it feels like she really wants us to be there” He sighs, and slumps against his seat. “What if she hates me? Or never talks to me again? Or she quits working at the Mystery Shack because she doesn’t want to be around me, or-or she does keep hanging around, but it’s just like everyone at school, and she’s only there for Mabel, but she’s too cool to cause a scene and tell me to leave, and-”

“Breathe, kid” Stan’s at his side in an instant, gripping firmly onto Dipper’s arm to help him back onto his chair before he falls to the floor. “You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.” He loosens his grip on Dipper’s arm once the color starts returning to his face. “Tell me, you really think Wendy’s the kinda person to kick you to the curb like that?”

Dipper doesn’t respond right away, but he’s taking deep breaths, which is a good sign. “No, I guess not…” he physically turns his body towards Stan to look at him, probably to prevent another dizzying spell. “But she looked so angry at me, and she grouped me together with Robbie, and she’s probably never talking to him again, I’m just….so worried I’m gonna lose the coolest friend I’ll probably ever have”.

Stan shrugs. “Trust me, bud, you do not have to worry about that. Teenagers are just like that. Y’get angry, you need to blow off steam for a few hours, but come tomorrow you’re over it like it never happened”. Stan finally goes to take his turn, lobbing the ball down the lane like it weighs little more than a penny. It slips into the gutter, but at the last second it careens back up and knocks all the pins over. He grins, pumping his arms in the air, and turns his gaze back towards Dipper. “You should’ve seen me when I was her age! I’d break a window, I’d punch a jerk in the face, and then I’d be over it”

“Grunkle Stan, you’re still like that”

“Exactly!” he boasts. “And you don’t see me holding grudges against people who don’t deserve it, do ya? You know you meant well, Dipper, and I’m sure it won’t take long for her to realize that too.”

Dipper’s playing with the edge of his vest. “I guess so”.

“There, see?” Stan gently nudges him as he sits down beside him again. “Problem solved”. He says, but backtracks a little when he remembers what Dipper had said about his anxieties around making friends. “And if you ever need any of my advice on how to talk to girls without using any creepy mind-altering CDs, I’m your guy” he flashes Dipper a thumbs up, and it makes him smile.

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan. I’ll keep that in mind”.

#gravity falls #my writing #team brawn #stan pines #dipper pines

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cocoarchives · 3 years

Text

Omatsuri

Do you remember that day during the summer that year? When the hill lit up with the dying sun, brighter than the rising moon? When we walked up the steep uneven stone stairs surrounded by strangers, men and women and children of reds, pinks, and blues? Their yukatas were decorated with morning glories, stormy waves, making that humid August evening just a bit cooler, just a bit more bearable. You asked where we were going as we followed the entranced crowd, and I replied simply with; “The Festival”.

I remember your face as we tackled those final steps, the smell of foods; savoury and warm, inviting us to join the fun. The lights decorating the stalls glowed orange like flames, as tinny music played from old low quality CD players. The first thing we did was buy some shaved ice -- or at least I introduced them to you, pointing out the stall with the blue roof and the long line. You were both fascinated and overwhelmed by the colour choice, you told me, so I chose the flavour for you -- red cherry -- and although the syrup was overpoweringly artificial, you laughed and told me you loved it and ate it all the same. Mine had a light blue colour, that flavour people could never put their finger on and could only describe as sugar. I let you have a spoonful, like you offered a spoonful to me.

You weren’t fluent in the language you told me, but I could see your eyes light up when a vendor we passed called,

“Takoyaki! Takoyaki for sale!”

It was perhaps the first word you recognized, heard in some movie or TV show that you loved and were inspired by. You burned your mouth with the first bite, and I laughed while reassuring you that everyone gets burned the first time. Even people who’ve eaten it for years find the heat startling, like the piece of octopus trapped inside the batter was on fire, and the surrounding humidity never made it any easier to bear. But with the mayonnaise cultivated on our land and the sweet okonomiyaki sauce, the balls cooled to an edible temperature for both of us to enjoy. It was the defining taste of August, I told you, and you argued with me, asked if I were joking as you tried to make an argument against me, but this was what I grew up with and so it was an indisputable fact that I’ve always known.

Do you still remember that stall we went to, where they offered us a game; Scoop a goldfish with paper and win yourself a friend. We each played a round with children surrounding us, and though we both won, you gave your bagged fish to the boy beside you, who lost and got no compensation in return. Feeling bad for you, I played and won you a yoyo. You didn’t believe me, you thought it was a trick. After all, it was just a balloon filled with water, the end tied to an elastic string, which itself ended in a loop to hang around your finger like a weight by your side. But it was real, and I told you it was real, and you appreciated my gift all the same.

As we circled back, nearing the entrance once more, you pointed out to me the people gathering around the small stage in the center, red and white in colour, covered in lanterns, presenting the man in the center with bachi sticks in hand, standing in front of his taiko drum. I tried to go join the dance, but you dragged me to the shadow of the trees, convinced me to sit in the cool grass with you and just watch instead.

You asked what they were doing and I told you that they were going to dance. As if on cue, we heard a big bang; a sound like thunder, shaking across the sky on that clear cloudless night. The man on the stage began to beat to a rhythm that seemed effortless, as if plucked directly from the still and silent air around him. Women began to sing, repeating words to a melody sung by other women years, decades, maybe even centuries before. The crowd began to dance in unison, smiles and laughs all around as their mesmerizing movements took them clockwise.

Do you remember the cat that came to rub against you, who purred loud enough to be heard above the song as you absentmindedly scratched behind its ears, along its back? You pointed to the stone path leading into the trees behind us and asked what was back there. I told you that there was of course a shrine there, a place where people once prayed for rain or luck to a smaller god, but whatever god they prayed to then must be long gone by now, off to travel to another town with another small shrine, where people needed them more. You were saddened at the thought, so I suggested to buy takoyaki to leave at the shrine, as whatever could reside there now must at least be taking offerings or charity. When we reached the small thing, I think you almost remarked that you’d thought it would be bigger, but out of respect or perhaps because of the old man lingering around at the time, you decided not to utter it. When we left empty handed towards the music once more, you seemed more pleased, and in turn that made me happy too.

But there are things I think you don’t remember, things I think you never even noticed that night. Like the man who shuffled through from stall to stall, tall, muscular, and built like a mountain that reached the clouds and touched the sky. He parted the people -- or perhaps the people parted for him -- not enough to be obvious but enough for him to pass by easily as he ate the foods the vendors provided him. His curled, untamable hair hid the Oni’s horns, as he watched the festivities unfurl around him, no malice in his eyes this time, only enjoyment.

I don’t think you noticed -- but then I can’t blame you for not recognizing -- that the boy at the game stall wore clothes too old for this time period, that it hid a fox tail that flicked carelessly into view in his glee. Looking back, I maybe should have warned you, for the fish’s fate was sealed for a slow death the second it entered his arms, but though the fox was a creature of trickery, this boy seemed only to want some fun. Those animals could be pranksters you see, but as kits they were more likely to just be curious of humans; our lives, societies, and functions. And anyways, satisfaction to that curiosity was not a thing I was willing to part with that child.

What about the old man who watched us leave, his eyes kind and full of wisdom, who seemed as if he had lived a thousand lives and was ready to live a thousand more? You didn’t realize that I told you a white lie, that as we turned our backs to leave, I peeked the aging god taking our offering, a joy of being seen and remembered playing on his face. You missed him as he came back into the festival to watch the people laugh and smile, singing and moving with a fluidity that could only be found and mustered this time of the year.

You turned to me then, as the music came to an end, as the spell was broken and the dancers dispersed, becoming strangers once more. You turned to me and asked me what the point of this was. What the celebration was, and why we were there. Do you remember me watching the bodies pass us as they started down the steps once more, catching snippets of conversation from the air like fireflies? I told you it was a celebration of the season, a celebration for the dead, a celebration just for the sake of celebrating. That the purpose of this festival was to entertain, and in turn was the entertainment for everyone. It’s to remember and give remembrance, to remind the people of their ancestors, and to let the ghosts of their ancestors know they are remembered.

But I didn’t tell you that the festival was also for the spirits, the creatures that parents told stories of to their children. That even the oni, the fox, and the god had their ancestors, their own ghosts that they wanted to remember and commemorate. And as much as they are our demons and deities, as much as we see them as evil or all powerful, they still deserve to commemorate the lives of those that came before them. Who am I or anyone else to prevent them from taking part in the fun?

#Original story #Short story #Original fiction #Fantasy #Zine Submission #BIPOC #Fiction #Japan #Festivals

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labgrownsteaks · 3 years

Text

Chapter 19

The cool ground surrounding the tunnel was comforting in a way, and for a moment I forgot I was a gopher. Guy was leading the pack through the tunnel, and he stuck his head out first, looking around to see if the hawk was anywhere in sight. Erin and I watched from below before Guy looked back and motioned with his head that it was safe to come out. We crawled past the sage which was growing in bunches up against the chain link fence. It made for a great cover and smelled fantastic to our gopher noses. One by one we climbed up the pole, just as Siri the butterfly had instructed and made our way to the little box which was precisely where she said it was. Guy was first up, apparently he really felt comfortable being a gopher as he took the mission very seriously. His paws scraped at the edge of the steel grey box to no avail. Erin was up second, she had a twig in her mouth which was fat and short. I sat back , gauging the distance for the jump and the landing area ahead of me. "You have room for me up there!" I shouted from below. "Come on!" Guy yelled back. Erin had wedged the twig underneath a corner of the edge of the box, and Guy was trying to grip it with his gopher hands to no avail. "I can't hold the damn thing!" he yelled out. I was about to jump, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a black creature, slowly moving further down the fence. It was a crow, and it had something in its mouth. Something shiny. I squinted my eyes to see the gopher, and called out to it. "Hey buddy! What do you have there?" The crow twitched its head over at me, and launched off the fence towards the box. As it came closer I could see it had a large object in its mouth of some sort. Was the crow Siri? There was no way to tell. Guy and Erin continued to fruitlessly attempt to open the box, but it wasn't budging an inch. The crow swooped near them and Erin screamed "Oh shit!!" and she jumped back, losing her balance and falling off the side. "What the fuck!" Guy called out as the crow flapped its wing and hovered just a few feet from him. The crow was silent. "He's got something in his mouth!" I yelled out to Guy. Erin looked up from below, her furry head covered in dust and old dead grass. "Whatcha got in your mouth buddy? Is that for us?" Guy asked as if he was talking to a puppy. "Whatcha got?" He repeated. The crow continued to hover, before getting a bit closer, its wing flapping furiously, its feathers black turning blue in the evening sun. And in a moment, he sat down at the top of the box right next to Guy.

"Nice birdie. Nice birdie. " Guy said softly. The crow remained silent. Moving its head sharply from side to side. Erin climbed up the fence and perched on top of it next to me as we watched it all unfold. In a cacaophony of movement and sound the crow began to bang on the box with its beak, causing Guy to jump, and be the next to fall off into a pile of dust and grass below. "Yes! break it open!" Erin shouted out. The crow continued to scratch and beat the box with the object in its mouth. It was a gold plastic of some type, probably from a childrens toy or something similar. Erin looked over at me and said "There's no way we would've got that open" and I agreed with a head nod. The crow continued its rampage against the box, cawing in between scrapes and smacks with the piece of plastic. A corner opened a bit and we could see the wires inside. "Yes! good boy!" Guy called out from below. The crow smacked its head around on the corner like a shark eating a seal. Aggressively moving it back in forth and jabbing it into the crevice which it had created. Its feathers began to fly, and a bit of blood could be seen accumulating on the edge. Erin and I looked at each other and winced for the bird which seemed to becoming more and more aggressive to the box. More feathers flying, more blood. With a loud caw the bird shoved its head inside the corner, and flapped its wings, causing it to hover while its head was still stuck inside. Erin jumped up onto the box, thinking that the crow was in danger. As it pulled out its head, Erin could see clearly a mechanical eye, and some stainless steel peering through the blood and flesh. "It's a robot!" she called out to Guy and I, who remained on the fence watching. "A Crowbot?" Guy said as he looked over at me . A flying robot was a very difficult thing to make, there were only a few in existence, and they were all property of the biggest tech companies in the world, which could only mean one thing. "Quicksilver!" I shouted out. Guy leapt from the edge of the fence onto the box and the bird promptly kicked him back off of it. It then looked straight at me in a menacing manner with its torn open robot eye. "Guy call Siri!" I shouted down to Guy in his pile of dust.

Guy gripped his earring with his gopher paw and called out for Siri. "Siri, is this crow sent from you?" "Siri!" But there was no response. Maybe the crow was sent and supposed to open the box for us, I hopped up on the box and was sent back down the second my paw set foot on it. The crow continued to wrestle like a maniac. The three of us crawled back up the fence and watched helplessly. In a split second what looked like a flying cat leapt out of the sky and hit the crow square in the center of its body which erupted in an explosion of wires and feathers. "An owl!" Erin called out A large barn owl could be seen flying off into the distance, but the crow remained writhing around trying to open the box. The owl was on our side! I thought. I felt like I was in a vietnam war movie and we had just got air support. The owl doubled back and then smacked again right at the crow, this time breaking its neck and exposing a tangle of cords and steel parts beneath the torn open flesh. Even so, the crow continued. A third time the owl plummeted from the heavens and this time mashed the crowbot up against the side of the box, splattering blood across the clean grey surface. The crow tried to let out a caw, but its voicebox had been damaged so it sounded like a glitched CD. But it continued to writhe and move, trying to break inside. The owl came for its final descent, and this time grabbed the crow in its talons before taking it up into the sky. It flew near an electrical pole a short distance away and plunged the bird into an electrical transformer which caused a delicious explosion of sparks and light. The lights surrounding the fenced in area all shut off immediately, and a small fire could be seen on the electrical transformer that quickly sizzled out. I glanced over at the box, and it swung gently back and forth in the wind. It was suddenly very quiet. A sharp contrast to all the chaos which had just happened minutes ago. Erin was the first up, and she spotted the green wire with the red stripe, marked 23c. She began to gnaw on it with her teeth, and it wasn't long before the copper wires were frayed into small bits. I remained on the fence, there was little I could do.

Erin hopped back down "What now?" she asked "Lets get back to our hole" I replied, and we all hopped down. I was the first to jump into the hole, and as soon as I did I was back in the garage. Alone. Then quickly following after me, as if they had been beamed on an episode of Star Trek, Guy and Erin followed. Guy was on the couch, and Erin and I were by the sink. We looked at each other in silence for a moment before Erin exclaimed "Fuck ya! That was fucking awesome!" Guy began to laugh, the joint he had previously been puffing was sitting in the ashtray, still smoking. He picked it up and took a long drag before handing it to me. "What the fuck was up with that crowbot?" I said after inhaling a monster hit. "Had to have come from Quicksilver, but why would it be trying to do the same thing we were tasked with?" Erin said. And just then the wall screen lit up with a faded purple color which illuminated the room in its light. It reminded me of blacklights, and a simpler time when we could all just hang out and get stoned and watch Ninja III. Siri began to speak. "The crow wanted to trip the alarm which would've triggered an automatic backup of everything open at the time" "So...were you the owl?" Erin asked, her face beautifully illuminated in three quarter light, and the smoke slowly ribboning upwards. "No, that was just a crow" "Come on!" I said. "I have no idea who sent the owl, but all things point to it being fully biological. We were quite lucky to have it on board!" Siri stated. "Badass owl" Guy said as he puffed on the joint. "Siri can you show me if there are any ancient stories about Owls helping humans?" but the screen showed nothing. "Siri?" Guy said. But there was nothing but silence. "Siri search for pickles!" I said, and nothing. Erin dug her phone out of her pocket, and began to slide her hand across the screen. She looked up "There's no service" she said. "well at least we have a good alibi" Guy said. In the distance we could hear the sound of sirens. We had taken out all cell phone service, and all internet service for what seemed to be all of Chisuwick, maybe all of the state.

#lgs

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1005

Do you live with your parents? Yup. Will probably continue to do so for a while, but that’s the norm here. We don’t really move out by the time we turn 18.

Are there any embarrassing school pictures of you anywhere in your house? Not necessarily here in the house, but I have embarrassing middle school photos floating around the internet for sure. And maybe from high school, too.

Can you do a backflip, or anything else of that sort? Not at all. I liked to try doing handstands as a child but nearly broke an arm at one point, so I wouldn’t fare well with a backflip.

What moment in your life have you been most scared? A few men have lunged at me while I was simply walking in public at night. I always have this grand vision of me slapping a guy or kicking his balls or spitting on his face if one decides to act stupid or harass-y around me, but... you’re never really prepared for when it actually happens. I’ve frozen up in terror every time, unable to defend myself.

Do you have any exes you can't stand anymore? I can’t stand how she handled things, but I’m not capable of hating her.

What happened to cause you to feel that way about them? I don’t feel like getting into the details, sorry. Everything still sucks.

Do you ever make your own surveys, or just take them? I take them. The few questions I manage to come up with have usually already been thought of, so I just like subscribing to survey-makers who are able to come up with new and interesting questions.

What would your parents do if you told them you were pregnant right now? They’d be sorely disappointed and I’m expecting to be heavily interrogated as well. Suffice it to say I’d be unwelcome at home in an instant.

Have you ever actually thought you were pregnant? No.

Were you? I’ve never been pregnant.

Are you more of a phone or a computer person? I’m on my phone for entertainment purposes, and my laptop is for work. I’d say I’m able to strike a good balance with both.

Do you like to cook, or do you prefer when other people cook for you? Well I haven’t learned how to cook well yet, so I don’t really have a choice.

How old do you think you'll be when you move out on your own? Mid- to late 20s, I hope.

Do you have a job? If so, where do you work? If not, do you want one? Currently, I’m an intern at a public relations agency but yes, I’m actively looking for full-time gigs too. I love my work though.

Have you ever ripped your pants in public? I don’t think so.

Do movies such as 'Saw' and 'The Grudge' scare you easily? Sure, but not as much as other horror flicks. It’s the psychological, slow burn ones that really get to me, like Midsommar.

Who do you talk to the most on MSN? I don’t have that.

How many best friends do you have? What are their names? I know I have at least one best friend, Angela. I’m too scared to ask if Gab still considers me as one. How sad is that?

What's the craziest thing you've ever been dared to do? I don’t like dares.

Did you do it?

Do you know anybody who has a birthday today? Hmm November 1...I don’t think so. The only birthday coming to mind is my cousin’s, but that’s not until the 3rd.

When is your birthday? How old will you be? April 21. On my next one, I’ll be 23.

Do you change the radio stations repeatedly in the car? If all the stations seem to be have meh playlists going on, then yes I change it around a lot.

Can you drive? Sure.

Have you ever thought someone was talking to you, but it turned out they were on the phone? Did you play it off? I can’t remember any specific instance at the moment but I’m not ruling it out. What I’ve definitely done is to wave at someone who wasn’t even waving at me.

Do you feel bad for homeless people? Yes, unless they got in that position by being an asshole. But I generally don’t come across that type of situation; and for the overwhelming majority of the time I do feel bad and helpless seeing homeless people, especially homeless kids.

What do you consider to be a good grade? 95 and above (for grade/high school) or 1.00/1.25 (for college).

What do you consider to be a bad grade? 85 and below or 2.00 and above.

Have you ever had a teacher who hated you? So many from my old school did. They were grown adults being pissy with a 12 year old; I will never understand that. They got away with it before but times have changed now, and I’m glad it’s for the better.

Can you remember who your grade 5 teacher was? Did you like them? Yeah. She was just fine, but I remember her having a bit of a temper. She’s mostly forgettable though and doesn’t rank in my favorites.

What's your favourite TV show? Breaking Bad.

In your opinion, who is the best looking celebrity out there at the moment? I’m incredibly out of the loop these days, so I’ll just go with my own biases: Kristen Stewart and Kate Winslet.

Do you like peanut butter cookies? Sure do. I do think there are better snacks that peanut butter can be incorporated in, but I wouldn’t turn down peanut butter cookies.

Do you know anybody that has severe allergies? Yeah, Angela with alcohol and Kate with eggs, fried chicken, and seafood. We feel particularly bad for Kate; those three things are all awesome :’(

Do you have an iPod? How many songs are on it? At the peak of my usage I probably had around 200-300 songs in it.

Who was the last person you slow danced with? I didn’t really do it with Gab a lot but I know she was the last. Kaye’s debut in 2017 if I remember correctly. There was a segment in her debut where couples were given the chance to slow-dance, but Gab and I decided against it because we were for sure going to get some looks, and we didn’t want to steal Kaye’s thunder. But she was so sweet to encourage us herself to go to the dance floor and have our moment amid all the straight couples that were there.

What was the last song you listened to on repeat? It was probably Why We Ever, as always. The lyrics are my entire thought process, so it’s a source of comfort knowing a song that understands me and my current situation so well.

What's your favourite song at the moment? I don’t have one.

Do you prefer headphones or earbuds? Earbuds. Headphones’ quality is great, but wearing them for too long ends up hurting my ears.

Do you ever ride the city bus? How much does it cost you? I don’t ride our buses. Bus drivers here drive like madmen and don’t maintain their vehicles, meaning there’s no AC, it’s super cramped, and the seats are probably nasty as crap; and while I would be willing to ride the more premium bus services that we also have, I never really had a reason to considering I have a car and driving on my own has always been more convenient.

How do you get to school? I rode a school bus from grade school to high school. I drove myself in college.

Speaking of school, do you like it or hate it? Loved it for the most part.

Are you a social person? I mean I don’t think ‘social’ defines me as a person, but I definitely can be it. I like being around people.

Are you reliable? Yes. I don’t like being unable to meet tasks or deadlines or expectations so I always find a way to get a job done.

What person/people of the opposite sex do you trust the most? Not sure if there’s such a guy at the moment.

What person/people of the same sex do you trust the most? My best friend.

Do you say 'like' a lot? Haha yeah, especially verbally.

What is the last book you read? Did you enjoy it? Midnight Sun. It’s great so far but it’s literally just like reading Twilight (because it is literally Twilight except told in Edward’s POV), which I’ve reread a handful of times, so my progress has been painfully slow.

Do you buy CDs anymore, or just download the songs? I stream on Spotify then watch the music video on YouTube, if it has one.

What is your favourite beverage to have in the morning? Coffee. Slowly turning into a morning coffee person, y’all.

Do you scream out the answers will watching game shows on TV? If I know the answer, yeah. I just blurt it out though, not scream.

Who in your life do you care about more than yourself? I can think of one such person but apparently that sentiment is no longer reciprocated, and I’m now also thinking if it ever even was reciprocated to begin with.

Would you ever consider adopting a child with a severe mental illness? At this point, no. That entails so much patience, a lot of commitment, a suitable living situation, and honestly in most cases a lot of money as well...it’s important to acknowledge that not everyone will be capable of having those things and it takes a certain kind of love and home for kids like them to be raised in the best way they could possibly be raised.

Do you have a brother or a sister? If so, are you close with them? Yeah. I’m close with my sister but not in a she’s-my-rock kind of way. We just get along super well.

If you are an only child, do you ever wish you had siblings?

When was the last time you were with all of your best friends? February.

Do you ever go into photobooths? Sure.

Do you waste money on unneccesary things? Hahahahahahaha please don’t remind me

Which wild animal would you most like to have as a pet? No thanks. They can stay in the wild, where they can thrive.

#survey #surveys

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aetherschreiber · 4 years

Text

The Cycle of Fandom

I am an early Millennial. As a 1982 baby, I literally came of age in the year 2000. A lot of hay has been made about how my generation does things differently from our parents. And by now, plenty of it has been made about why, as well. I won’t rehash the talking points, but it comes down to how much things changed in our formative years. Our parents went from vinyl to 8-tracks. We went from cassette tapes to CDs to MP3 players to streaming over our phones. That’s a lot to have to adapt to and as a result adapting is just what we do.

But when it comes to fandom, the human condition really hasn’t changed that much. People like things and when they like things they obsess, collect, analyze, and sadly they eventually eventually gate-keep.

Now, let me preface all of this by saying that I don’t really have any citations for any of this. But, as someone who was thoroughly raised in fandom, I also have a tendency to get hooked on things a lot of my generation would scoff at for being old. I love the original Lost in Space and Man from UNCLE, the very first Mobile Suit Gundam is my favorite, I’m fascinated by the puppetry in Thunderbirds, and I’m a complete sucker for just about anything with Cary Grant. I will binge-watch classic Doctor Who as much as I will the new stuff and love every moment of each for what it is.

For most Millennials, this isn’t the case, for whatever reason. It’s neither a good thing nor a bad thing. It just is. Most folks in my generation have heavy nostalgia for the 80s at the oldest and just don’t really concern themselves with very much from before that. It’s not that they don’t have an appreciation, but they don’t have the resulting fangirl crush I have on David McCallum that I will commiserate with my mother about (Illya Kuryakin is an adorable badass and I will die on that hill).

I like to think that this has given me a bit of a unique view on fandom, in general. I participate in some older fandoms, where things move a bit more slowly and where the average age is usually at least one generation removed from me and therefore a bit wiser in a lot of ways. They’ve just sort of... already covered this ground, so to speak.

The difference is the pace at which they did it. But the cycle is the same.

It’s never anything that starts maliciously. No fan I know of has ever set out to point-blank keep someone else from liking the thing. Rather it starts with a sense of seniority. “You like this thing, now, too? Great! I was there for the beginning and let me tell you, back then...” It’s always like a fandom big sibling who wants to show their younger counterpart the ropes; get them proper caught-up and versed in the lore so that they can better participate.

I love fandom when it’s at this stage and it’s the type of fan I strive to be at all times. I don’t like setting conditions for fandom. I think it’s partly because I am such a late-comer to so many. The idea of being a fan of something that was made 30 years or more before you were born is a hell of a thing, but I’ve never let that stop me. And for the most part, these fandoms that are much older than I am have reached the point where they are welcoming and just sort of stuck in the big sibling stage. Sure, you have the occasional troll, the guy that scoffs that I can’t understand because I wasn’t there at the very beginning. But they’re usually slapped to the ground pretty quickly by everyone else.

There is the occasional exception, of course. But one of the things those such fandoms have in common is that there is still new content being made for it. Doctor Who is a prime example, as is Star Trek, Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings (yes, I do count the upcoming Amazon series and other non-book content as new content, deal with it). There’s something about new content being made for a fandom that causes an odd anxiety that thing that the fandom loves is going to be somehow ruined.

I’m going to use Doctor Who as an example for a lot of this. The show turned 56 years old this last November. 56 years! And the fact that it had a couple of decade-long breaks in there, which were themselves only separated by a single two-hour movie, only serve to highlight the changes it went through.

My second-oldest memory is of Doctor Who. I remember the regeneration from Tom Baker to Peter Davison. Now, Whovian historians, before you freak out because that change-over happened in 1981, before I was even born, remember that back then the US got episodes around two and three years later than the BBC, in syndication on public television channels. So for me, that change happened when I was two. I remember there being some Big Thing (tm) that my dad was anticipating. I remember the burgundy and red outfit that Tom Baker was wearing while laying stricken on the ground, surrounded by his companions. And I remember him suddenly turning into a blond and sitting up, wide-eyed and mystified. I didn’t understand any of it at the time, of course. And so I also remember turning to my dad, who was watching with excitement, while the credits were rolling and asking why the man turned into another man. Oddly, that’s where the memory ends. I don’t remember the response. In fact, it’s only having since seen that episode as an adult that I have been able to identify it for what it was.

After that, I don’t have much in the way of Doctor Who related memories until the Paul McGann movie in 1996. I was 14 and not well-steeped in Whovian lore at the time and I thought it was great. My dad was more luke-warm to it because it just wasn’t the same as what he grew up with. It was a sentiment shared by many, unfortunately, which meant that Paul McGann’s wonderful take on the Doctor was relegated purely to audio adventures until the 50th anniversary in 2013. Sadly, in the early days of the internet, those of us who liked it weren’t quite able to find each other yet. In the days of Usenet and mailing lists, it was still only the most hardcore fans of a thing who got together to geek out. Meaning that most of the conversation was “oh, that’s all wrong.” Lurking in those conversations, I saw pretty much every tremulous young person who dared to say that they liked it get slapped to the ground and told they weren’t a fan of “the real thing.”

Gate-keeping. It’s nothing new. And in 1996 Doctor Who fandom ran smack into its pad-locked closed barrier. Around that same time other old but still active fandoms were starting to manifest the same thing on the internet. It was when Trekkies suddenly separated into Trekkies (who had seen the original as it aired) and Trekkers (who came long later), for reasons I have never understood.

No, that’s not true. I understand it. Us humans tend to get possessive about our stories. We have a sort of emotional ownership to them, even if not a legal one. And when you feel an ownership of something, there is an instinct to protect it, keep it pure. And to do that, it’s natural to try to set oneself up as an authority on the subject.

It took another decade for Doctor Who to come off the shelf again, in 2005. I was 24 by then, the age that marketers tend to target. A friend got his hands on a digi-copy of Christopher Eccleston’s first episode, “Rose,” that had been leaked to the internet in its entirety about a week before it actually aired. We watched it before our D&D group met and I was instantly hooked. And the friend that was responsible for the new addiction was only too happy to have new fandom friends.

The pendulum had swung. Gate-keeping was out and welcoming people to the fandom was the MO. Of course, there were and still are to this day old school Whovians who deny that anything past Sylvester McCoy exists, calling the 1996 movie and the current series a different show entirely. There will always be those people. But for the most part, Whovians welcomed new fans with open arms throughout all of Eccleston’s and David Tennant’s runs.

Now, that one cycle, from welcoming to gate-keeping, and back to welcoming, took 42 years. Most things don’t last anywhere close to that long. A show might be on for five years or a movie and its sequels be around for ten and after that, for the most part, it’s done. And in the pre-internet age of fandom, the pendulum swung slowly enough never to hit a repeat in the cycle.

The internet has sped up everything about fandom. The airing of just about any show in any country might as well be a world-wide premiere these days because it all just travels that quickly. It has to if it wants to maintain any sort of surprise in its story lines, otherwise internet chatter will spoil it. These days, things move so fast that even the few hours between an episode of Doctor Who airing in the UK and in the US is enough that one can be subjected to spoilers. And the swing of the fandom pendulum has sped up accordingly.

For Doctor Who, it started swinging back again when David Tennant left the show and Matt Smith took over. Tennant’s Doctor had a lot of fans who desperately didn’t want “their Doctor” to leave, many of whom took to the internet, swearing off the show. They said it would never be as good because David Tennant was just the best Doctor ever. By then, there were a number of us Millennial Whovians who had dug into the lore and were comfortable with the concept of regeneration as a part of it. After all, it had already happened nine times. And there was a bit of a tendency to call those people who swore off Matt Smith’s episodes as being fans not of Doctor Who but of David Tennant. Meanwhile, of course, old school Whovians were patting us all on the head going “aren’t you cute. Now you understand why Tom Baker leaving was such a thing.”

And so, the pendulum started to swing back. You started having people call other people “not really fans of Doctor Who.” That only got worse when Peter Capaldi took over and there was a significant portion of the fandom upset that the Doctor was now an older guy instead of the 30-something Doctors we had grown accustomed to.

Gate-keeping reared its ugly head for most of Capaldi’s run and, sadly, I think that kept a lot of people from the fandom and from really appreciating the 12th Doctor. That cycle has started to swing back with Jodie Whittaker’s Doctor, but the gate-keeping is in a stage where it is desperate to hold on to what Doctor Who was when they became fans and therefore is very toxic right now. It’s not pretty. But those asshats are starting to be slapped to the ground on social media thanks to a new influx of fans who are now once again more comfortable with the idea of regeneration and its possibilities.

Similar swings are happening with many other fandoms. The Star Wars fandom is a really ugly place right now, quite frankly. Star Trek seems to be on the welcoming end. There are always the exceptions to every generalization, of course. There will always be “that guy” in fandom.

This swing has always existed. Millennials are just the first generation for whom it has swung multiple times in the life of the show. The internet is probably the biggest contributing factor to that. What that means is that we’re the first generation to really have the chance to see the pattern for what it is. A few of us have even been able to extrapolate back and understand that, no, this is how it always has been, just slower.

The hopeful part of that is this; by virtue of being the first to recognize the pattern, we are the first ones with the opportunity to learn from that history. And now we’re starting to see fandoms that actively abhor gate-keeping and just want more people to come in and play. But those tend to be very young fandoms.

The one that comes to mind for me is Critical Role. This is a fandom that was wholly born on the internet, as the series is streamed live on Twitch. It’s really unlike anything that has ever had a fandom this size before. It’s only been around for four years or so. But the cast is on its second D&D campaign which means it’s already had the opportunity to have the elitism gate that could be closed. But something different seems to have happened. The very moment that people started saying “I’m a real fan because I watched the Vox Machina campaign, not just the Mighty Nein,” they were told to shut the hell up and let people like things. A foot was stuck into the gate and wrenched it back open before it could close. And you know what? The fandom has absolutely exploded in the last two years. And I have yet to run into a single instance of someone gate-keeping for it that didn’t get an overwhelming and harsh rebuttal from the folks who welcome people to the fandom.

Sadly, the Critical Role fandom is distinct from the Dungeons & Dragons fandom on this point. But therein lies the difference. D&D is over 45 years old, ten times and more the age of Critical Role. And the “satanic panic” over it in the 80s made a lot of D&D players very protective of the hobby, only amplifying that. The age of your average Critter is only mid-to-late 20s or so. At 37, I’m a little bit of an outlier, I have found. The Critter fandom is big on TikTok which I... don’t grock, frankly, because I’m turning into an old fart. But I’ve never, ever, been made to feel unwelcome because of that difference. It’s been a refreshing experience, frankly.

In contrast, I really feel like I’m only now starting to be considered a “true Whovian” by the old school Whovians. It took me 15 years and required me getting hooked on the classic stuff (which I was all too happy to do). People who have never seen any of the classic stuff and don’t care to are often still looked down upon. That needs to change.

The Critical Role fandom is still young and all of this may prove to be overly-optimistic in the end. But I think it has the opportunity to be the first big fandom not to go through the gate-keeping cycle. I sincerely hope we can hold on to that. The cast and crew are a big part of that, with how they always hammer on the idea of inclusivity and engage so directly with the fandom. “Don’t forget to love each other” is Matt Mercer’s sign-off at the end of every episode and serves as a constant reminder. And if more casts and crews of more fandoms do that sort of engaging in the future, it will help break the cycle of fandom gate-keeping all the more thoroughly. This is a fact that production companies are starting to awaken to as Millennials, comfortable with social media, age into positions of authority.

So, welcome people in, gate-keep, almost cause the whole thing to collapse, repeat. That’s the cycle that fandom has engaged in for three generations and more. But I think we’re on the cusp of breaking that cycle, for the most part. The idea that you can be a fan of something without knowing absolutely everything about it has been gaining very visible traction in the last five years or so and it is wonderful to see.

Now, please, people. Don’t prove me wrong.

#fandom #Doctor Who #Critical Role #social observations #gatekeeping #toxic fandom

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orbitariums · 5 years

Text

brain freeze (peter parker x black reader)

brain freeze

peter watched the clock idly as time went by, eyes glued to the ticking hands on the clock. he was leaning against the counter behind the assortment of ice creams that were protected by glass, and waiting boredly for someone to come in.

his shift was over soon and he could leave and go home where ned would be awaiting to build the lego death-star with him. but for now he was at scoops ahoy. he didn’t mind it much, working here - who didn’t want to be surrounded by ice cream and happy people eating ice cream all day long? at least, that was what peter thought. it was good to get a normal job experience and a little cash for himself, and to help aunt may. he could still be a regular teenage boy. still, he was working alone today and it was empty in scoops ahoy.

at least, until you came in.

peter looked up as the door swung open and a girl walked in with her friends, and there she was, shining in all her glory. her friends were pretty but she was the prettiest, and peter stood up tall when he saw her coming forward. you paid no mind to him, engrossed in cheery conversation with your friends, laughing with your mouth open in a smile and then listening to what they had to say, a cool look on your face signaling that you were listening.

the whole group of girls weren’t very occupied with their surroundings and especially not with peter, it was as if he wasn’t even there. when peter’s mind had shut down its repetitive cycle of thinking: “wow, she’s so pretty!” or “i look so stupid just standing here in my uniform … what am i saying, she’s not even looking at me. i wish she would”, he quickly realized the girl.

he knew you as the new girl in town and at midtown high. your name was yn and she was a transfer from a performing arts school in oakland, california where you used to live. how you switched from the arts to tech, peter didn’t know. what he did know was that he missed 90% of the lessons being taught in classes he had with you because he was looking at you, blinded by your beauty. your skin was a chocolate (or dark chocolate) color, blemish-free and radiant, with (insert hair type and color) that complimented your already perfect face. regardless of your height, to peter you stood tall because of your remarkable beauty.

he spent most times during lessons when he had a class with you either staring at your back or peeking over at you from the other side of the room. you were naturally beautiful and for that, naturally popular, but from what peter could see you were also smart and generally nice to everyone, though also cool-headed and much smoother than peter could ever dream to be. where you delivered words with a calm, soft voice and suave smile, peter stuttered and tripped over the simplest of sentences (unless there was discourse on anything sci-fi or old movie pop culture related.)

even so, knowing that you were probably a harmless person and it wouldn’t kill to try to be your friend, peter didn’t have the chest to just walk up to you and start a conversation. the only time you’d spoken was when you had to partner up in chemistry. he vaguely remembered you smiling and saying your name, introducing yourself, and him just nodding and nervously mumbling, “peter”, and then you went their separate ways and split up the experiment. so, it wasn’t much of a first impression if an impression at all.

and now, he was serving you ice cream in the parlor where he worked. and he would have to talk to you, and all your gorgeous friends. and the way he was freezing up now, he wouldn’t try to make conversation with you outside of just taking your order. in fact, he barely even noticed that he was now being waited on, that your friends were staring at him and he was just stuck, his lips slightly parted, eyes glimmering with hope and that giddy anticipation reminiscent of middle school crushes.

“um, hello?” one of them said, a tan girl who peter knew to be named carmella.

he cleared his throat abruptly and tore his eyes away from you, suddenly readying himself at the register and straightening up, and his cheeks were already burning at the awkward moment.

“oh,” peter said. “sorry. uh, welcome to scoops ahoy… ahoy! what would you guys… like to get today?”

peter found his voice trailing off and his eyes traveling back over to yn inadvertently as he tried to compose himself, failing miserably. a concoction of girlish, knowing giggles emerged from your group of friends as they noticed peter glancing over at you and tripping over himself. they laughed innocently, making peter’s face burn even more red and curse his complexion for making his blushing so easy to see.

“um, can i get a butter pecan in a cup, please?” another one of your friends named daya started to order, and they all ordered before yn, peter taking them down and whipping up their orders as usual.

they had all sat down with their ice cream at a table nearby by the time it was your turn to order, and peter’s grew unsteady, his hands getting fidgety, and he was having trouble looking you in the eye.

“hey,” you said, your velvety smooth voice calm and already reassuring. peter looked into your eyes to find them hard, but somehow comforting. you were speaking quieter so your conversation was private and that was apparent too. and now peter was frozen again, it was like you gave him a brain freeze. “don’t pay attention to my friends, they were just giving you a hard time, but they don’t mean any harm.” you laughed slightly and peter’s heart soared - it was like listening to an angel sing while fairies tittered somewhere beyond. “promise.”

peter nodded, his body feeling strangled, and his words coming out in a stammer,

“i-it’s fine, they um… were really nice. no hard times over here.”

you laughed again and it became apparent to peter that you were laughing at him, though not in a mean-spirited way, but because you found him funny, and that was good. he didn’t know how to talk to pretty girls but at least he knew that much.

“you sure?” you asked, and peter nodded quickly,

“uh huh. hundred percent.”

you laughed again, he was so cute and funny to you and you didn’t even know why you were really starting a conversation with him out of the blue. as much as you liked it, you couldn’t help but feel like you were holding him up.

“i’m sorry, i’m wasting your time. can i get umm, a small chocolate-vanilla swirl, on a cake cone?”

“soft-serve?” peter asked, his customer service voice kicking in.

“yeah,” you said, and when you looked up, your eyes were gleaming, making peter’s breath hitch in his throat.

he started to freeze again, but stopped himself this time, glancing down and scratching the nape of his neck, blinking harshly,

“uhh, will that be all?”

“yep.”

“your total is $3.42,” peter announced after handling the register, and you handed him a five dollar bill with ease, peter looking down and noticing your well-groomed nails and how soft your hands looked. “here’s your change.”

he gave you back your change and something in him snapped when he blurted,

“and you weren’t.”

you cocked her head to the side, confused,

“weren’t what?”

“wasting my time,” peter answered, finding the courage in himself to smile at her just a moment, blissed out when you smiled back.

“you’re so cute,” you said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing, just a meaningless compliment that would be thrown into the void. but peter’s heart physically panged when you said it and his cheeks went as red as the cherry he put on top of your ice cream, handing it to you with hands that were damn near trembling.

“th-anks,” he said, his voice cracking.

his mind was racing, replaying the three words over and over again in his head. he was already preparing himself to never talk to you in school but always remember this moment as one he would cherish, the sole interaction that mattered between the two of you, small but a victory anyway. but he looked up when he noticed you hadn’t yet retreated back to your friends who were all laughing among themselves.

you were just standing where you had been in front of him, holding your ice cream cone in both hands and gazing inquisitively at him as you licked your ice cream. it took everything in peter for his eyes not to glance down at your lips and notice the clear lip gloss you had on that made your lips look pouty and kissable and shiny, and he did anyway.

“peter, right?” you said, and for a second he forgot that you too must know him from school, that this was a mutual understanding. peter figured you had just read his nametag until he realized you were actually conscious of his existence.

“yeah... yeah, peter. peter parker.”

“peter parker, sounds like a superhero’s name,” you repeated his name and it sounded like ice cream rolling off your tongue - literally.

he smiled softly,

“yeah, that’s me, heroic as ever. and you’re yn.”

“c’est moi,” you decided to lean on the counter so you could peer your head in and feel closer to peter, which of course made his heart race like mad, but surprisingly he kept his cool.

“i’m… peter,” he said, his voice getting lost as he found himself staring into your eyes, realizing too late that he sounded like a cd stuck on repeat.

you giggled loudly, amused by his awkwardness and cute behavior, cooing,

“yeah, i got that. you’re in my chem class, and you’re like really smart.”

“oh yeah?” peter laughed to himself and rested his hand down, accidentally popping open the register, scaring himself, and then having to close it abruptly.

“hells yeah. this one time no one else knew how to balance this precipitation reaction and you did it in like point five seconds. it was pretty impressive,” peter detected the tone in your voice as impressed, admiration even? it was too surreal to fully address.

“wow,” peter was blown away at the fact that you even noticed his presence in that class. “i mean um, thanks. you’re pretty - smart … too. i mean you’re pretty smart too. and, pretty. but also smart.”

you smiled, although peter was mentally beating himself up for being so rattled,

“thanks.”

“um, i like your earrings,” peter said in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation going, though he really did like your earrings, gold hoop ones shaped in a heart.

“thanks! they were like five bucks at the beauty supply store, i had to cop them. they’re these bamboo heart-shaped hoop earrings. pretty cool.” “yeah,” peter chuckled. “cool.”

he didn’t mean to sound as careless as he did, it was just that he wasn’t used to talking to pretty girls for a prolonged amount of time, and he was in pure shock at the fact that you of all people wanted to talk to him. like, you were willingly starting and holding conversation and the fact of that was too much to handle.

“so, have you lived here your whole life?”

“at scoops ahoy?” peter replied with a question, face palming when he realized you obviously weren't referring to that. “i mean, queens, god. yeah, pretty much. and you-”

“moved here from oakland, cali. so, kinda california girl meets new york. you know, it’s so different here, but i like it. the people are really nice, despite popular belief.”

“you must have gotten lucky with the people,” peter joked, and you just smirked,

“i was talking about you. but, sure.”

peter paused, taking in what you had just said and how easily the conversation was flowing, mostly thanks to you not being as awkward as he was, and he figured now was his time.

“um... listen, i know we only really just met and all, but-”

“just met? peter, i’ve known you for like, a couple months now,” you teased, and he laughed nervously, shaking his head, his curls falling onto his forehead,

“aha, yeah, right. but we’ve only just met and i was wondering if… if you… maybe wanted to hang out sometime. i-if you want. you definitely don’t have to, but-”

you made a face,

“we’re hanging out right now.” you caught sight of peter’s fallen face and just chuckled, nudging his arm from the other side of the counter, your touch electrifying him. “peter, i’m kidding!”

“oh,” he giggled nervously, continuing to scratch at the nape of his neck. “i’m sorry, i-”

“don’t be,” you commanded, and suddenly he knew not to be. you took a pen from nearby, holding your ice cream in a different hand, and started to scribble something onto a piece of napkin. “here’s my number. call me sometime.”

peter practically choked on his own spit at the sight and he blinked fiercely, his mind going foggy because he hadn’t yet evaluated what would happen in this particular series of events. he wasn’t sure if it was real or just some sick fantasy waiting to mock him by his sleep, but when he felt the touch of the soft napkin dimpled with pen engravings in his hand he knew it had to be real. you were giving him your number.

“oh. wow, thanks, this is… i’ll just call you.”

“that’s how phones work,” you giggled, and his fogginess and shock morphed into excitement and anticipation as he waved the napkin around in his fingers.

“yeah. i’m not that smart after all,” he said, joyous to hear you laugh again. “god, i know i must look so-”

“shhh, don’t say anything bad about yourself. look, i gotta go. but call me soon. maybe tonight, we can talk. if you want to.”

peter’s face lit up like a christmas tree and he beamed at you,

“yeah, i’ll call you.”

“cool,” you said, your heart rate increasing just like his did as you walked backward, facing him.

“cool,” he repeated, under his breath, a smile forever encasing his features.

“guys, let’s go,” you corralled your friends and they followed, filtering out of the parlor. you continued to walk backwards so you could face peter, “bye!”

“you look really pretty, by the way. really nice,” peter blurted out of excitement, still finding the need to correct himself.

this time you were the one whose cheeks got warm,

“thanks! you too,” you had reached the door by now and you were beginning to turn away. “bye, peter!”

peter said goodbye again and watched as you turned around and walked out the door, joining your friends, all grouped up and laughing with them again. and even with all the conversation you had just had, he still got a brain freeze when you turned around for a second, away from your friends, just to look at him again, a smile on your face, too.

#spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman oneshot #spiderman headcanons #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker poc #peter parker x black!reader #poc #pocfans #poc!reader #black!reader #yn #imagine #oneshot #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot

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levelstory · 4 years

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Music Reflection II, Early 2000s' was a Trip

Well, it has been a hot minute since I wrote a music reflection post. Last time, I talked about various songs from my childhood from the likes of Britney Spears to Stevie Brock. Now I am back to tackle some more music from my most formative years that will make you question how my music taste ever escaped cringy pop music from the Top 40. Coincidentally, all of these tracks are from the early 2000s’ so no 90s’ music here today. Here we go…

Miracles Happen by Myra

This song is the anthem ofThe Princess Diaries. That movie was one of my most watched VHS tapes next to the first Harry Potter film. It is the movie that sparked my interest in film soundtracks, and one of the most recognizable and memorable songs from the album was easily Myra's Miracles Happen.

It can be easy to forget how much work was once put into acquiring music in an age where most music is available instantaneously. As a kid, my ear was always turned toward the music in any given film and when I got to an age (around 9-10) when I realized these tracks were sold in one package known as the film soundtrack, I made a point to get my hands on a copy. The Princess Diaries is the first soundtrack I remember owning outside of soundtracks from Disney films.

My most stark memories with this soundtrack are playing it in my bedroom at my old house. Toward the end of our time living there, my family painted my bedroom a light pink and I got a desk that had a CD rack built-in (this was a big feature at the time). My boombox sat on the large desktop against the wall and I can remember listening to The Princess Diaries soundtrack on repeat. There are a lot of great tracks on the album but Miracles Happen is the true star and the true representation of the movie.

Before I talk about the track further, I just want to point out that this movie is great. We could talk about its problems, which it has many, but it remains funny, heartwarming, and a joy to watch from start to finish. This movie introduced me to Anne Hathaway and she just shines. Plus, Julie Andrews is in the movie and she steals the show! I know my opinion is partially influenced by nostalgia goggles but hey...just let me have this!

Back to Miracles Happen. What is easily the strongest aspect of the song is the chorus. It is so catchy and fun to listen to. The verses are enjoyable enough, but they feel a bit detached from what makes the song so good. The bridge is pretty lackluster. As discussed a bit in my first reflection, way too many songs struggle with their bridges. Look, I get it...but still. The only shining light is that the bridge at least transitions into a tune that sounds similar to the chorus which is pretty great.

The lyrics are fairly generic which is par for the course. They say a bunch of random things like "we found the missing pieces" and "nothing should ever bring you down", lyrics that have little to no emotional attachment to anything beyond it is a thing people say in this context. But all things considered, it is still a really fun song to listen to.

It Happens Every Time by Dream Street

Dream Street is one of those boy bands that flew pretty far beneath the radar for most people. Their first album released in 2000 and I distinctly remember the marketing campaign on television playing over and over again so that they were drilled into our brains. I guess it worked because I really wanted this album as a ten-year-old.

My friends and I loved Dream Street. I had their poster hanging on my bedroom wall (their album booklet unfolded into the poster). We made up dance routines to their songs. We even blasted the music through my friend’s house and somehow her parents never became angry with us. My most shameful confession about Dream Street is that we used to try and find their phone numbers to call them. Unaware that phone books are limited to local numbers, we would call random numbers to see if Chris or Jesse were home to talk. They weren't, and people were annoyed by our calls.

One thing people probably don't know is that Jesse McCartney's music career began with Dream Street. I'm proud to say that he was my favorite from the group at the time, and vocally he is the strongest of the group. His voice had not matured yet so it is always fun listening to his performance with his young voice!

It Happens Every Time was their big single and the song most used in TV adverts, accompanied by the music video. What got me thinking about the song and the group recently is due to some unfortunate events. I learned back in July that one of the members, Chris, died in June due to complications with COVID-19. He would have been 35 this year. Chris was often looked at as the Justin Timberlake of Dream Street. He had the fancy frost tipped hair and swagger to him that the other members couldn't compete with. After the group disbanded, he never found success in the same way he did with Dream Street. He died too young and too soon. After his death, I started relistening to Dream Street and it was this relisten that encouraged me to write another Music Reflection.

As with Stevie Brock from the first installment of Music Reflections, Dream Street's songs mostly center on their lust for girls in a way that is pretty uncomfortable looking back. These boys range in age from 11-13 if I am not mistaken, and their songs deal with mature themes that predate their young years. Not to mention that society has young boys singing about these ideas that they can't help their actions when they lust for a girl or they can't control themselves because a girl has them wrapped around her finger. Our culture normalizes this idea that men are vulnerable to female woes and that they can't help themselves. It is always a bit gross hearing young boys sing about it, especially before they’ve even hit puberty (i.e. Justin Bieber).*

It Happens Every Time is a song about...a song. It follows a boy who hears a "silly little love song" every time he sees this girl or thinks of her. This plane of existence, a magic place where angels sing all around them, is known as Dream Street (name drop!). Admittedly, this song is probably the tamest when it comes to the themes I mentioned in the previous paragraph.

Now I won't lie, this song is a bop. I'm still unsure if that is the nostalgia talking or not...I will have to dig deeper some other time. But damn I'd be lying if I said I don't enjoy this song. It is so catchy. The boys sing really well for their age. I am a sucker for listening to little Jesse McCartney belt his heart out. Jesse is the highlight of this song, getting a nice solo line toward the end of the second chorus followed by the entire bridge and some overlapping vocals in the final chorus before ending the song. He just sounds so good and I will admit to feeling a small sense of pride listening to him. I was there before his solo career and entry into Radio Disney hits and commercials all over ABC Family. Sometimes it feels like Dream Street is still so unknown that I can keep my memories of them all to myself. Though their time was short-lived, they stayed with me and so has this song.

Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton

Earlier, I talked about how difficult it was to acquire music before the internet. In the case of a song in a movie, there was a good chance that the song you liked would be on the soundtrack, provided a soundtrack was even released. Songs on the radio were difficult because you had to buy an entire album when you just liked one song, or make sure you had a blank tape ready to record when the song came on. Then there were songs you heard while out and about with no context. Those were the worst because you had to try and memorize the song and hope you found it somewhere, someday. That was kind of what happened to me with Vanessa Carlton.

It was her song A Thousand Miles that really gripped me as a 12-year-old. I loved it so much and heard it everywhere I went but never knew who sang the song or where I could get a copy. Eventually, I heard the song on the radio and bought her album...and ended up only listening to the three tracks I liked. One of the tracks, and my favorite of those three, is Ordinary Day.

If my memory is correct, this song was never as popular as A Thousand Miles on the radio, but it was super popular on the internet. This album came out around the time I first started using the internet and discovered movie montages. I don't mean montages used in movies but montages made by fans on Windows Movie Maker, cut together with a somewhat fitting song. If you were a teenager obsessing over Disney or Harry Potter or...something, you know the songs that people generally gravitated towards with these videos (the band Trading Yesterday were a staple of these montages). Ordinary Day was a movie montage song (every time I listen to this song it reminds me of an Aladdin montage it played over (which I sadly can't find)).

I decided to watch the music video for this song as I was writing this and boy is it a product of the early 2000s. Can we all just agree that the early 2000s were equivalent to that awkward stage of everyone's lives that we try not to think about? This music video is so clumsy and confusing. There are so many close up shots on Carlton and strange shots of people making out. Who thought this was a good idea?

But back to the song. One thing I appreciate about this song is how it builds itself up. The beginning piano is very nice but then it builds up with orchestration and I love it. I'm sorry I can't talk about it more but I won't embarrass myself with lack of musical instrumental lingo and knowledge.

The lyrics of the song are...ehh? The song is basically about seeing more in the ordinary and how the narrator is shown from an "ordinary boy." It isn't terrible but like the music video, a product of the early 2000s.

I unapologetically love this song. Yes it is corny and it isn't as musically sophisticated as I would like, but it always makes me smile when I listen to it. I can remember listening to the song on my headphones on long car rides and with friends. It is just a song that makes me feel happy and gives me no reason to feel otherwise.

All I Can Do by Jump5

Well...I'm surprised it took me this long to arrive at Jump5. What is there to say about this Christian pop sensation? Quite a bit actually. I was only obsessed with them for a good chunk of my early teens. Reflecting on that time of my life is strange because in hindsight, it was such a short period but it always feels like it lasted much longer.

Everyone has that one band that they really connect with as a teenager that basically shapes their entire life and...well, yeah, that band for me is Jump5. I'm not kidding, I could write an entire book about how this band shaped my entire life (and believe me, I am working on it!). As much as I'd like to talk about all of that, we only have a short amount of time so let's talk about this song.

As with Ordinary Day, this song reeks of the early 2000s. However, unlike Ordinary Day, the music video is much more successful in its execution. I couldn't believe myself when rewatching it...it is actually pretty darn good as far as music videos tend to be.

Choosing what Jump5 song to talk about was pretty difficult because there are so many in their arsenal that I can talk about for long periods of time and connect to life experiences. But All I Can Do seems to be a special one because I'm almost certain it was the first track I ever heard from the group. As with Dream Street, Jump5 had a big TV marketing campaign for their second album, All the Time in the World (in which All I Can Do is the first track). It was their TV advert that put them on the radar for me. I vividly remember seeing the commercial at Christmas time. It was the first Christmas spent at our new house and I can remember watching the TV with my gifts and snow falling outside. At this point, seeing pop bands advertised on TV was nothing new. There were always new groups trying to make it big as other pop acts had before them. But other than my memory of seeing this commercial, it otherwise didn't leave a big impact on me. I wouldn't start listening to Jump5 until a few months later after getting into Radio Disney. And even after I got into Jump5, All I Can Do was never one of their songs that I gravitated towards.

I wanted to talk about this song because of how well it represents Jump5 as a group. All I Can Do is their quintessential track, packed with energy and fun lyrics. But the track is also a representation of the group's core aesthetic of disguising "Christian values" as a pop song about a crush. For anyone who grew up on a Christian media diet (as I did voluntarily as a teenager), this is nothing out of the ordinary for this type of entertainment. In fact, it is basically a meme at this point. All I Can Do may be the least overt example of this from Jump5's library, but it is still an example nonetheless.

“It's like I got nothing to do but think about you,” (you being God), "I've got all the time in the world," (implying that time does not matter because in God you have everlasting life), "if you look at my heart, you'll know from the start," (meaning God knows your true heart and He knows from the start). I could go on but I think you see my point. There isn't anything inherently bad about this example and it is fairly harmless, but this isn't always the case when it comes to Christian entertainment.

Another trend from the late 90s' and early 2000s' was a pop group being a mix of both guys and girls but the guys rarely sang (A*Teens is another example that might come to mind). This song is dominated by the girls who share most of the song equally. The guys are hardly ever heard at all except when Chris gets his time to shine echoing the song's title over and over. It is easy to forget about them but alas, they are there.

Jump5 were known for their dance routines that they performed alongside their songs. They would often do cartwheels, flips, and very technical dance routines that blew many other pop acts out of the water. They also performed these routines live on tour, not just in their music videos. This dance routine is a really memorable one, showing the group doing a train-like dance which I remember performing with a friend. It is a lot of fun and I won't let anyone tell me otherwise! It was a lot of fun revisiting this track.

Is It Saturday Yet? by Nick Carter

Well here we are, at the final song, and boy is this choice...let's go with interesting. Nick Carter, known for his Backstreet Boy fame, recorded his own solo album after the group disbanded. What we got was Now or Never which is only ever remembered by the song Help Me, and even that is pretty forgettable. All that said, I owned this album and listened to it quite a bit as a tween. My most specific memory with the album is listening to it on a long car ride to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Is It Saturday Yet? is the seventh track on the album and out of the five tracks I liked, this was probably at the bottom.

So why talk about it if it was my least favorite track? Well friends, this track is so bizarre that I question its existence on a frequent basis. It is insane how often this song gets stuck in my head and won't leave.

The song seems to be about a disengaged teenager being raised by Jerry Springer and video games (video games got a low blow for warping kids brains back in the day. They still get blamed today but it isn't to the same extent) who just can't wait for Saturday to come so he can be rid of his responsibilities. The lyrics are...dumb. They are clearly trying to make a point but the song is so ridiculous that it is white noise. And why is it that Nick and Aaron Carter always have to reference each other in their songs? It was cute at first when Aaron did it in his classic track Oh Aaron, but now it is just old.

"Is it Saturday yet? Cause I wanna get up. Is it Saturday yet? It just feels like a Saturday. Maybe it's a Saturday." Those are the lyrics in the chorus. It is a song so devoid of meaning and so lazy to its very core. It contains lazy rhymes and brutal instrumentals. This song is the reason so many people describe pop music as empty trash. Like, don't get me wrong, a lot of music on the radio is pop trash and is clearly put together by big corporate higher-ups to make a quick buck on teenage stars locked in a contract. But some of that music is meaningful and deserves to be recognized. This song, however, deserves to die a painful death. It is just terrible.

And yet, despite all of this, the song somehow still appeals to me. I still listen to it. I still find joy out of it even though it is just awful in every possible way. I think that speaks to the whole point of these reflections on the music I listened to when I was younger.

Is It Saturday Yet? may be the worst of the bunch, but a lot of music cranked out back in the day was mindless entertainment. As much as it bothers me, I won't lie and say there is no place for music like this because there is. Sometimes when I am driving, I get so sick of the music I normally listen to ("good" music) and I just want music from my childhood that won't make me think but will just allow me to bake in nostalgic goodness.

Revisiting these songs was fun, but I know there are more I want to talk about in the future! Stay tuned! What are some songs you listened to in the early 2000s’ that make you feel super nostalgic today? Let me know in the comments!

* It should also be noted that the band broke up because of a lawsuit in which the majority of the parents of the band alleged that the underage band members were "exposed to booze, women, and pornography."

#Jump5 #Vanessa Carlton #Dream Street #Chris Trousdale #Jesse McCartney #Myra #The Princess Diaires #Nick Carter

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