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#and then going to the festival's website and picking the ones that sound the least weird
tacticalanklebiter3000 · 10 months
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Johnny McTavish — Balloons
there's a hot air balloon festival that happens in my city every year so.. there's the context! Midwest fun lol
cw: none c: nice guy soap, strangers to friends??, word vomit,
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the event takes up an entire parks and rec city park. multiple recreational football/soccer fields are full of local vendors, greasy fair food and the main attractions, the hot air balloons. (it's big and everyone and their god damn mom is there 😭)
you had snagged a spot in the grass to set up to watch them start firing up the balloons. you stretched your blanket out, setting down your bag and snacks to keep it from flying away and to save the spots for your friends.
classic Balloon fest, people start filing onto the open fields, filling spots near you and your blanket. thankfully, everyone keeps a comfortable distance. the last spot with enough room is filled by the 141 team, setting up lawn chairs and beer coolers.
everyone kept to themselves until things started to settle. turns out your friends has bailed, leaving you to watch the balloons light up alone. and to add the shit cherry on top, one of the frisbees they were throwing around knocked your drink right off your cooler ;(
"aw shite. 'm real sorry" Soap quickly scurried over having felt bad for missing the disk.
accent ♡♡
a mohawk in 2023?
yeah but his arms ♡♡
he picked up your can and apologetically set it down on your cooler. nervously he wiped the grass clippings from his hands.
gotta think fast, Soap.
"wanna drink? we 'ave plenty."
quick friends were made and snacks were immediately shared. they gave you extra water and you gave them bug spray
if you mentioned going to check out the vendors Soap would immediately spring to the chance to "escort you" you know, like a gentleman. Price offers to watch your things, having moved them closer to their little square. he and Ghost were more than happy sitting and drinking beer.
Gaz tags along with you and Soap until the live music and shows lead him away. he makes sure to check in before he slips away.
just you and Soap left hehehaha he walks just one step behind you, making sure no one in the crowd swipes your bag or bumps too close to you.
asks you to take pictures of him in the big baskets. lord if there's a skull shaped hot air balloon he's getting at least 4 with it.
"LT is gonna hate these"
waits in the egregiously long lines for greasy fair food and top tier lemonade.
"ya think that fried alligator is fresh?"
'absolutely not.'
omg buys you those overpriced light up gadgets they always sell at these things. he's got a whole armful of glowsticks for himself and the boys. buys you a bubble gun that lights up.
by the time the sun is setting you're headed back to your lawn chairs and blankets with half eaten funnel cakes and cheap blinking toys.
Gaz had beat you there. he also bought a light up bubble gun. this town ain't big enough for the 2 of us 🤠🫧
everyone sticks around long after the balloons start wrapping up, getting lost in friendly conversation.
I can't figure out how to end this without it sounding corny
exchange numbers. big man big hands gives you a firm handshake, not wanting to overstep too many boundaries today.
"lemme see you again please. you're very cute and nice" but would never just come out and say that. so text him when you get home, maybe tell him you're off on Sunday
meet up maybe give em a big ol kiss right on his big ol biceps heheh
pictures of the balloons at the park that I grabbed from the city website lol. it's very fun!
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stair-blocks · 2 months
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Literacy Blog / うんどうかい
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My book was 運動会 / うんどうかい about a kid’s sports festival day at their school and I was able to understand that on my own using context clues like; katakana, images, and the individual words I could pick out. That being said, though, I don’t particularly feel like I actually read it, like I did go through and sight read it and sound it all out (unfortunately I couldn’t find the book on the website so I had no audio to listen to) but it felt more like I was doing a word search for what I did understand rather than reading. And that might be where the rest, or at least some of, my classmates are with their readings as well, but it did make me want to really step up my reading game. So, from here I want to try to read one book a week, and hopefully do a blog as well but that’s not my focus, while actively noting what I can pick out and read as I go along to build a physical self dictionary to reference back to. This physical dictionary is mainly to combat my forgetfulness but it's also so I can reinforce what I’m reading by writing it down as well to also help me get a little more comfortable with writing Japanese as well.
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ncityzen · 3 years
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The way that these people I write for are trusting me with theatre recommendations when I have watched like 3 (three) plays in my life and all of them for school reasons
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leupagus · 3 years
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aw, yay prompts! Star Wars/Rogue One - Luke/Bodhi and summer hook up AU or urban street magic AU. Or Jannah/Rose - Heist AU. Or Rivers of London - anything with Molly for that food truck AU. Definitely just pick and choose as interested, or I can send these as separate asks, lol
Star Wars - summer hookup & urban street magic AU
Bodhi ducked down another alleyway, pulled off his hoodie and tossed it in a convenient bin. Then he took a deep breath and turned around, hands in pockets, trying to look casual. It probably wouldn't work. yn had been trying to teach him about sneaking around — "it's called spycraft," she'd sigh at him — but Bodhi couldn't ever shake the feeling that he was always himself, no matter who he was pretending to be.
Sure enough, he turned right out of the alley and ran smack into the someone.
"You all right?" said the voice, concerned and warm and — familiar, but who the hells did he know in this godsforsaken city? Other than the Jedi, who hopefully was still back at the square with his thumb up his arse.
Bodhi looked up into the face of — "Luke," he said, his face going hot and gods, this is why he shouldn't be given any kind of responsibilities! He was good at Imbuing, not Wayfinding; although maybe this was an aspect of his abilities, that ensured he'd escape the Jedi but get caught by the one person he'd like to see even less.
Though that wasn't accurate, really, it was more that he didn't think Luke wanted to see him, after that night last summer and waking up the next morning to an empty bed and—
Bodhi was still mid-spiral when he caught sight of the rest of Luke's getup — a black cape and black suit underneath, one hand loosely cradling a saber.
Luke's eyes were wide and blue and still just as beautiful as Bodhi remembered. "Oh, shit," Luke said. "You're the Rogue?"
"You're the Jedi!" Bodhi protested, but even while his inner Jyn was screaming at him to run or kick Luke in the balls or pull that stupid cape over his head, he could feel himself starting to smile.
Because Luke was beaming at him, radiant as the sun. "Well," he said, tossing his straw-blonde hair out of his face, "I had to get your attention somehow."
Star Wars - Heist AU
"Please put your heads on your hand," said Rose, trying for "calm and authoritative." She might have even hit it.
The woman opened her mouth, then closed it again. "You mean my hands on my head?" she offered, and demonstrated.
"Right, yeah, sorry. This is my first day," Rose said, which probably wasn't the right thing to tell a robber? But also she could hear Finn in her earpiece telling her that he was thirty seconds away and also that she was doing great, which was reassuring, even if the woman in front of her was still holding the...whatever she was holding. "Um, actually if you want to put the thingy down on the floor, that would probably be good," she added.
"Oh god," she thought she heard Finn mutter, as he put on an extra burst of speed.
"The thingy," said the woman, sounding a little offended. "Honestly, if you can't even—"
Just then another woman, white with her hair up in odd little pigtails, came careening into the room. "Let's go!" she yelled without slowing down.
"Catch," said the first woman, throwing the thingy at her.
It was gold and kind of heavy, and Rose dropped it immediately, but they were already gone. "Well, fudge."
Finn's footsteps echoed in the hallway and he burst into the room, holding a taser in one hand and a flashlight in the other. "You okay?" he asked, breathing hard.
"They got away," she said. "Um, I don't know if they were really trying to steal—"
Just then the police started turning up, and the fire department, and all in all it was almost an hour later when Rose was shown the thing that the woman threw at her, now safely ensconced in an evidence bag. "It's a — oh shit," she said.
The detective, some old guy with an accent that might have been Midwestern or might have been just lazy, gave her a slight smile. "Yeah, it's oh shit all right," he agreed. "And guess what else they left behind."
The next morning, Finn came in with an actual physical copy of the Boston Globe; there on the front page was the two of them and Director Organa at the impromptu press conference in front of the museum. Underneath the photo was an array of each returned art piece, or at least pictures of what they'd looked like before. Rose had seen some of the rolled-up paintings and knew it would be months, if not years, before any of them were ready to be displayed again.
"We look good, though," she said, and Finn handed her some copies of the paper so she could send them to her sister and parents.
The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum Return Heist was the subject of months of news stories, three documentaries, and a Netflix miniseries, but it wasn't until almost five years later, when Rose matched with a beautiful woman who liked crossword puzzles and base jumping on Nerdster, that they had the first indication of who exactly had brought the artwork back.
Rivers of London - food truck AU
They always came at dusk, the two of them looking like something out of a supernatural anime about demonic domestic staff. They systematically worked their way through the entire menu, which took them about two weeks, and if the rumours were right, then they'd bugger off.
The food truck community, insofar as there is one in London, operates mostly through mutual follows on social media, uneasy alliances at the various festivals and fairs that require our services, and ruthless undercutting when it comes to the best spots in the City to ply our wares during the lunchtime rush. But word gets around about certain customers, and it went around like wildfire about these two. They always paid cash, tipped lavishly, and only the man ate, but the woman would sit or stand next to him with a notepad, scribbling furiously as he quietly talked to her — describing the food, maybe, or plotting world domination. It was generally understood that they were a pair of stone cold freaks who you prayed would just finish up their weird assessment of your food truck and leave.
Only, the day before they sampled the last item on the menu — one of our sides, a fried plantain that Bev swears could make the dead get up out of their graves with demands for seconds — I let them know that there'd be a special on offer tomorrow.
I could hear Abigail snickering behind me as the gentleman — with those suits and that cane, it was the best epithet I could come up with — lifted an eyebrow. "Indeed? And what will this special be?"
"Well, it's special, isn't it?" I said, laying on the Kentish Town charm with a grin and a shovel. "You'll have to come back and try it. Otherwise you won't have a complete understanding of the menu."
The woman nodded, solemn as ever, but the gentleman looked suspicious. "Until tomorrow, then," he said, with another squint at me.
Abigail joined me at the window to watch them go, arm-in-arm into the fog like something out of Casablanca. "So has anyone figured out what website they work for?" she asked.
"I don't think they do," I said, as the fog swallowed them up. "I think they're just weirdos."
"Weirdos you invited back for a special that you haven't even invented yet," said Abigail, with the kind of insight that makes her a great line cook and a really annoying cousin.
"Well, good-looking weirdos," I allowed.
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nikki-writes-stuff · 4 years
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Beauty In the Blood - Part Four
Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined…
Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader
Read part three here! 
A/N: This story is based off of this post! I hope you guys enjoy; this is my first time writing Loki, and this will probably be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. Please let me know what you think as the story progresses!
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A/N: Warning! This chapter contains light smut at the beginning and heavy gore in the middle. If that kind of thing bothers you, then try skipping down to Natasha’s point of view. It’ll summarize what basically happened while sparing the nasty details. (Also, I’ll have you know that a lot of morbid Google searches went into the making of this chapter, lol.) Enjoy!
Your eyes flew open with a gasp, and your fingers twisted and dug into the sheets; a ragged, breathless moan tore itself out of your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell whether or not you were still asleep.  You’d just been dreaming a second ago, though you couldn’t remember what about, but now, there was something hot and wet lapping at your already-drenched pussy.
Blearily, you looked down, making out the form of something moving beneath the blankets. Or, rather, someone. The events of the last night came back to you just as another moan escaped from your parted lips, and you threw back the covers to see a familiar head of black hair nestled between your spread thighs.
“L-loki,” you sputtered, voice still rough from sleeping. “Wh-what are you- oh, fuck-!”
His chuckle was muffled as he wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking, and your back arched up as your hands flew to his hair. You fought to keep your eyes open, wanting to savor the sight of his aquamarine eyes staring up at you while he gently grazed his teeth over your sensitive bud. The sensation sent shockwaves up and down your spine, and your hands moved to his hair as your hips started rolling upwards of their own accord.
You only lasted for an embarrassingly-short amount of time; you had no way of knowing how long Loki had been playing with your cunt while you slept, but within just a few minutes of waking up, you felt your toes curl as your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes never left his, taking in the proud, almost smug, gleam in them as he greedily tasted your cum.
His tongue kept lazily exploring your pussy, grazing over your clit as you jolted from the oversensitivity. Biting your lip, you tugged on his dark tresses, watching as he reluctantly pulled his head up to fully face you.
“Good morning,” he smirked, his lips swollen and slick with your juices.
“I… Good morning,” you stammered. “That was…one hell of a way to wake up.”
Both of you chuckled as he crawled up your body, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you into a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and you couldn’t help the tiny groan that came out of your mouth at the lewdness it.
Loki pulled away, licking his lips as he looked down at you. For a moment, the two of you were silent, taking in the other person as sunlight drifted in from behind your closed blinds. His hair fell in thick, frizzy waves, no doubt rumpled from how you’d been manhandling it both last night and this morning, and his face seemed to be almost…softer than usual. Despite how he’d woken you up, you could see a faint gleam of sleepiness still lingering in his expression, and it made him look younger; with a smile, you traced one of his cheekbones with a finger, trailing it down the line of his jaw and sweeping it across his lower lip.
“You’re beautiful, Loki,” you whispered. You hadn’t meant to speak those words out loud, but there was no denying the truth in them.
A wide, close-lipped smile came to his face, and he pressed one more peck to your cheek before pulling away to sit beside you on the bed.
“I think,” he mused, “that we both need a big breakfast with even bigger cups of coffee after last night.” His voice was just a touch gravelly, but there was no denying the affection in it as he looked down at you, lazily playing with a strand of your hair.
“Don’t tell me I wore you out,” you chuckled, reluctantly pulling yourself to sit up. Loki gave you a tired, almost sheepish smile, before he pulled himself to his feet.
“I must be slowing down in my old age,” he joked, eyes scanning the floor to see where his underwear had ended up.
Propped up on your elbows, you watched the lean muscles of his body contract and bend as he stooped to retrieve them, and you were once more reminded of a statue carved from the purest white marble. The corded muscles of his thighs flexed with every movement as he stalked over to your en suite bathroom, and it was only when he’d closed the door behind him that you decided it was time to get up.
“I was thinking,” you called out, making your way to your closet, “that we could get some breakfast together at a café down the street. My treat.”
You pulled on a nude bra with matching panties, not hearing the bathroom door as it swung open. It was only when you felt cold hands descend upon your waist that you jolted and turned to face Loki again, not missing the way his eyes skimmed over your breasts.
“I’d say that you treated me to more than enough last night,” he purred. “Between your amazing cooking, your beautiful writing, and your absolutely sinful body, well…” His hands trailed up your sides, tickling over your ribs before slipping under the cups of your bra.
“A man can get spoiled quite easily.”
Needless to say, it was a while before either of you got properly dressed.
______________
Loki sipped his black coffee as you consumed the café’s specialty drink of the day, his hand resting over yours as you both finished off your breakfasts. The two of you had been sitting in companionable silence for a while, giving you an opportunity to think of what you would right next in your newest work in progress.
“I can practically see the gears turning in your head, love,” he chuckled after a while, shaking you from your thoughts. “Care to share?”
You smiled, setting down your fork[NL1] .
“Just about the book,” you told him. “I think I’m going to write another killing scene soon.”
Your boyfriend’s eyes leapt up, his interest obviously piqued.
“Oh? How will our coroner do it this time?”
You winced unconsciously, your thoughts turning red for the briefest of moments as you considered whether or not to share your twisted ideas with him.
“I’m…not sure if it’s the right thing to discuss over breakfast,” you admitted weakly. “Wouldn’t want your breakfast to, uh, disagree with you.”
“Love? Need I remind you of what I do for a living?” was his deadpanned response. “I play with corpses for a paycheck; I promise that not only will it not bother me to hear, but that I want to.”
As strange of a response as it was, you couldn’t help but feel warmth bloom in your chest; you’d nearly forgotten that Loki wasn’t like other people. You didn’t have to filter your morbid, macabre thoughts around him. If anything, his dry and sardonic sense of humor encouraged the darker turn your conversations often ended up taking.
“Well… I’m considering having her…” You trailed off, searching for the right word. “Disembowel someone, I suppose. Her victim is one of the rare few she takes to satisfy a personal agenda; typically, she’ll just pick a random innocent, but this time it’s semi-personal. So I was considering a more passionate murder for them.”
Loki’s eyes were shining with a mischievous sort of joy, and you found yourself thinking, not for the first time, that if he wasn’t so directly involved with death on a daily basis, his love of such things would be concerning, to say the least. But you supposed that the same could be said of you, and so you trudged on with your brainstorming.
“I was thinking about having her cut them open and use their intestines to strangle them, but I’m not even sure if that would even work in real life,” you mused, tracing the edge of your coffee cup with a finger. “I imagine that a person would die from being cut open before they could die from asphyxiation.”
He nodded his head solemnly, turning over your words. You were relieved to find no disgust within his features – only mild interest as he pondered.
“Off the top of my head, I can think of a few issues that one would have if they were to attempt such a thing,” he considered. “For one, there’s the bleeding to contend with. And I would think someone could go into shock and lose consciousness if they’re awake and conscious during the ordeal.
“Which, of course, they would have to be. Otherwise, what fun would it be?”
A surprised bark of laughter escaped your lips, and your hand flew up to cover your mouth as Loki’s spread into a wide, toothy grin.
“You’re bad,” you chided, shooting him a look of mock-reproach.
“Oh, I’m well aware. But so are you, darling. It would appear we’re two sides of the same unconventional coin.”
Your smile softened, and you gave his hand a squeeze before tipping your head back and draining the rest of your coffee, not catching the spark in his eyes as watched your throat.
“But I will think about your idea while I’m at work; maybe I’ll come up with a way for our favorite coroner to pull off such an interesting kill.”
“Thank you, love. But I have to say, Olivia is still only my second favorite coroner.”
__________________
Loki hummed to himself, listening to the way the sound echoed throughout the cavernous theater. Typically, he preferred to bring his victims back to his home so as to ensure more privacy, but he was feeling festive this evening; why not celebrate the occasion with a bit of a change in scenery?
And what scenery it was. He’d first discovered the abandoned theater about a year after moving to New York. It was located on the outskirts of Manhattan, tucked away into a quiet, crumbling corner of the city that few ventured into. Not even the homeless dared take up residence in the old building; Loki had already nearly fallen through the worn, creaking hardwood of the stage once, and the ceiling was dotted with holes that hinted at the establishment’s imminent collapse. It was only a matter of time before man or nature razed the theater to concrete and crushed brick, but he doubted such a thing would happen tonight.
He’d always been remarkably lucky, all things considered.
The plastic of his hazmat suit crumbled and squeaked with his every movement, and it was becoming quite muggy and humid with his own sweat, but he’d been doing this for too long to risk getting caught now. He’d been meticulous, making sure that no trace of himself would be left behind – just his work.
His head perked up when he heard movement from behind him, and he glanced sideways at the evening’s entertainment. He hadn’t cared to learn his name; all he knew was that the man currently encased in duct tape and rope had cut him off in traffic, and that had been enough justification for Loki to follow him home. The poor sap hadn’t made it to his front door, though; no, he had a greater purpose to serve.  
He turned fully to watch as the man’s eyes blinked open, sluggishly roving about the room as he recovered from the blow Loki had landed to the back of his head. Once their eyes met, though, he watched as realization washed over his countenance, and in the wake of realization, terror. A deep, guttural groan was muffled by duct tape, and the sound bounced along the high-vaulted ceiling and peeling walls.
“Oh, my apologies,” Loki smirked. “Here, let me…”
He crossed to the man and knelt down, ripping the tape off in one quick, harsh movement.
“Please, I have a family-“ the man started to plead, but the coroner only rolled his eyes before standing up once again.
“I was hoping for something more original,” he sighed disappointedly. “If I had a dollar for every time I heard those words, I would probably be able to afford a second home in Malibu.”
He chuckled at his own joke, tuning out the man’s pitiful wailing as he dragged his toolkit closer. Squatting down, he lined up the three syringes he’d brought with him, just in case, before drawing out his beloved pocketknife. Its ebony handle shone in the dim lighting, reflecting a distorted image of the smile he was currently wearing.
“I-I-I can pay you, too,” he heard from behind him. “Anything you want! I work on Wall Street; I can-“
“Let me ask you something,” he interrupted once again. After lovingly setting the knife down next to the syringes, he brought himself up to his feet.
The man was now visibly trembling, trying to squirm his way out of the rope binding his arms and legs. Loki inhaled deeply through his nose; he could swear that he smelled the fear radiating off of his victim, could taste it on his tongue - metallic and salty and intoxicating.
“What is your name?” he inquired, tilting his head.
“Larry. L-Larry Farmer.”
“Larry Farmer?” He tilted his head back, shoulders shaking with laughter. “That… I’m sorry; I’m being terribly rude, laughing at your name like this. It’s just that you look like a Larry Farmer, if I’ve ever seen one.”
Larry seemed to be too frightened to be offended, though he couldn’t care less about what this soon-to-be-corpse thought of his manners. He reserved them only for those who deserved courtesy, after all.
“Well, Larry,” he continued on. “I’m sure you have at least some semblance of an idea as to why I’ve brought you here.”
“Please, don’t- don’t kill me, I-I’ll do anything-“
“If it’s any consolation, your death is, in a way, for posterity’s sake. You’re going to be famous, Larry. Probably in both the news and my lover’s latest masterpiece.”
He crossed the floor to the hook he’d set up earlier that day, hoping that it would work for its intended purpose. The hook was large and rusted, and connected to it was a long length of rope that he’d slung over one of the exposed beams above the stage. He’d tested his own weight on it, satisfied that it was still sturdy despite the state of the rest of the theater, but now he was starting to have his doubts. Mr. Farmer wasn’t as muscular as him, but he was quite rotund. And while Loki typically didn’t judge such a thing, he was worried that the man would either snap the rope or send the roof tumbling down onto them.
With one final tug to make sure the hook was secured, he started marching back towards the sobbing man sprawled out on the floor, delighting in the way his eyes widened and his feet skittered in their bonds, trying to push himself away from the killer as he approached. With a grunt, he grabbed Larry’s suit jacket and dragged him back to the contraption, his breath ragged by the time he managed to attach the hook to the rope twined around the quivering fool’s hands.
“Well, at least I can skip cardio tomorrow,” he grunted to himself through clenched teeth. His shoes clicked as he made his way to the other end of the hook’s rope, but their sound was almost drowned out by Larry’s screams.
“HELP ME,” he was shouting, his body writhing on the ground in a way that reminded Loki of worms once the rain washed them onto a sidewalk. “PLEASE, SOMEONE, HE’S GONNA KILL ME-“
“He sure is.”
Gripping the rope in both hands, Loki planted his feet and pulled, watching Mr. Farmer’s body as first his arms were raised up, followed by his torso, until, after a lot of panting and heaving on Loki’s part, he was suspended in the air. His feet were kicking as much as they could with tape twined around his ankles, trying to make contact with the ground, but he remained hovering just above it by a few inches.
After tying off the rope to a nearby post, Loki sauntered over to the hanging man, hands folded behind his back as he caught his breath from the excursion.
“There, now. Much better.”
His eyes followed the length of rope upwards, pleased that it looked to be holding fast. Finally, everything was ready for his little experiment. Stooping down, he retrieved his knife, admiring it for a moment before turning back to Larry.
“No, no, no, please, please-“
“Hushhhh, no one can hear you,” he purred, coming to stand before the man who was still persisting in begging for his life.
He rested one of his hands on Larry’s shoulder, gripping tight as he plunged the knife into his gut. The blade wasn’t terribly long – maybe four or five inches – but it cut deep enough that, when Loki flicked his wrist to make a long, clean slash along the lower abdomen, the intestines fell out with a wet, satisfying squish. Or, rather, part of them did.
“O-oh my god…”
Larry’s voice was a low moan of pain, and Loki took a second to bask in it as blood dripped steadily to the floor. His screams had morphed into anguished grunts and groans, which were infinitely more pleasing to Loki’s ear. A quick upwards glance showed that his face had gone unnaturally pale, and his eyes were half-lidded as he threatened to pass out.
“Oh, no, not yet-“
Loki stooped down, grabbing one of the syringes and stabbing it into the man’s chest, injecting it with his thumb pushing down on the plunger. Larry’s body jolted, a gasp parting his pale lips as his eyes once more snapped open.
“There, we go,” the killer purred, tucking the syringe into one of Mr. Farmer’s pockets. “A little bit of adrenaline goes a long way, hm? Now.”
He reached down, holding a length of slippery small intestines between his hands.
“Stay with me for just a little longer more, Larry. Then you can go to sleep; I promise.”
With gentle tugs and steady movements, Loki brought the length of the gut up and around Larry’s neck, drinking in the horror on his expression. A series of disbelieving, shocked gurgles escaped the man’s throat as Loki wrapped each hand firmly in the intestines.
“Wh-y,” he wheezed, surprising Loki with his ability to still speak despite the amount of his insides which were, currently, on his outside. “A-a-re y-ou do- doing thi-s-s-s…”
He chuckled in response, his eyebrows jumping up as he met Mr. Farmer’s eyes.
“Why are all the best crimes committed?” he countered as he started to pull on the length of intestine. The man’s eyes bugged out as he began to choke, and a crease formed between Loki’s eyebrows as he focused on not losing his grip on the slippery material.
He brought his face close to the man now struggling for breath, admiring the way his skin had started to turn from pale to purple. His voice was barely above a whisper as he answered his own question, keeping his fingers tight around the gut gripped in them.
“For love.”
Only seconds later, Larry Farmer’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and all too soon, he went limp.
Later on, once Loki was showered and resting in his bed, he called you, holding the phone to his ear and waiting impatiently for you to pick up.
“…Hello?”
A smile came over his face upon hearing your voice, and he closed his eyes, replaying the look in Larry’s eyes just before he’d succumbed to death.
“Hello, love. I’ve been thinking about what you said over breakfast yesterday; I think I have a few ideas about how Olivia would be able to pull it off…”
_____________________
There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world for days like this, but the large tumbler of iced coffee in Natasha’s hand would have to do. A matching one was in Steve’s as the two detectives marched into the theater, and she couldn’t help but sigh at the small herd of reporters that had already started to form outside the condemned building.
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed that they always manage to get here before we do,” her partner mused, casting a disapproving glance towards the news vans and flashing cameras.
Detective Romanoff’s eyes flashed as she followed his gaze, and her full lips twisted into a grimace before taking a sip of her drink.
“I’m gonna go with annoyed,” she sighed. “Vultures, the lot of them.”
“You won’t hear me disagree.”
He lifted the line of caution tape barricading the door for her, and she muttered a thank you before ducking under it and walking into the aged, dingey lobby within. The crushed velvet lining the walls had to be filled with decades’ worth of pollen and dust, and she was already fighting down the urge to sneeze. Officers were dotted here and there, trying to lift a print off of any possible surface, but she’d already been informed that they had yet to find anything useful.
“Detective Romanoff, Detective Rogers.”
The two turned to see Officer Coulson walking up to them, his hands hooked into his belt as he approached. Natasha’s lips twitched upwards; Phil was a gifted officer, a kind man, and a good friend, and seeing him managed to slightly lessen the painful headache starting to form behind her eyes.
“Coulson,” she greeted. “Heard you have quite a doozy waiting for us.”
“That’s one way of putting it. Just wanted to give you a heads up before you go in there. Let’s just say that we’ve already had an officer lose his breakfast at the sight of it.”
One of her manicured eyebrows arched up, and she and Steve shared a look before turning towards the doors that led to the auditorium.
“Is it that bad?” Steve asked, a node of trepidation in his voice.
“It ain’t good.”
With that, Coulson turned and walked out the building, bringing his phone out of his pocket to no doubt give Sergeant Fury a call. Natasha didn’t know what she was dreading more – walking into the auditorium, or having her superior breathing down her neck until they caught whoever had left behind the body.
Without further preamble, she squared her shoulders and pushed past the doors, eyes immediately widening as she saw what was waiting for them. A portly, middle-aged man was dangling from the ceiling by his own bound hands, and as she walked closer, she saw that his own intestines were looped around his neck like some kind of morbid scarf. Steve cursed under his breath, and Natasha nodded her head in silent agreement with the sentiment.
Fuck, indeed.
Doctor Banner, a forensic specialist who’d been working with the police since before Natasha had come to America, turned towards them as they climbed the steps to the stage. His salt and pepper curls were messy and wild, and stubble was thick on his cheeks, signifying that he’d probably left home that morning in a hurry.
“Oh, hey,” he greeted them, though his eyes were on Natasha alone. “You made it; we were about to get the party started without you.”
“I don’t see how that’s a party,” she fired back, nodding towards the corpse.
Banner nodded, glancing back at the body as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Yeah, I see your point…”
Steve smiled, glancing between the two before clearing his throat.
“What can you tell us about all of this, Dr. Banner?” he asked, drawing the scientist’s attention back to the matter at hand.
“Oh, right. Yeah, so this is Larry Farmer, age 49. Time of death looks to be about 12 hours ago; we’re lucky that we found him at all. If the local kids hadn’t decided to try and practice their graffiti here, who knows when he would’ve been found?”
He pulled a pen out of his breast pocket, using it to point along the length of intestine twined around Mr. Farmer’s neck.
“He lost a lot of blood, but the burst capillaries in his eyes and face suggests that he died from strangulation, not blood loss. Now, we found an empty syringe in his pocket, and we’ll have to do a few tests on it to see-“
“Wait a minute,” Steve interrupted, holding up a hand. “You’re telling me that this guy was strangled with his own-“
“Intestines, yeah,” the doctor finished for him with a wince. “Pretty fucked up, isn’t it?”
“To put it mildly,” Natasha stated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Now what was this about a syringe?”
“Right; we don’t know for sure what it is, but I’m willing to bet it was either something to clot the blood or something to keep him awake. We’ll know in a few hours. The medical examiner will be able to test his blood, too, to see if there’s any other kind of chemical in it that shouldn’t be there.”
“Sounds good,” Natasha nodded. “Do we know which hospital he’s gonna be brought to?”
Hours later, she felt her heart sinking as Steve pulled up to Bellevue Hospital, its familiar shape looming over her as she thought about the man who was, most likely, puttering away in the morgue. Something in her chest ached at the idea, and her displeasure must have shown on her face, because Steve turned to her with a sympathetic glance one the care was put into park.
“He might not even be working today,” he offered, fake optimism dripping from his voice. “Besides, he’s not the only medical examiner here. Farmer might have been brought to Dr. Lyons, or Dr. Stewart, or-“
“The universe would never be so kind,” Natasha snarked before stepping out of the police car, pulling her leather jacket on over her sweater as the cold nipped at her skin.
Her breath turned to fog as she and Steve walked in side by side, shoulders brushing every now and then as she unconsciously leaned towards her friend for support. He didn’t know the whole story – no one but her and Dr. Odinson did – but he knew that there was history between the two of them. Everyone who knew of her prickly feelings for Loki assumed that they’d dated at one point in time, and she let them think that, not wanting to look on the past long enough to recall the twisted web of memories waiting there for her.
The morgue was always kept about ten degrees cooler than the rest of the hospital, and an icy finger trailed down her spine as she made her way to the familiar observation room. And, belatedly, the familiar man working inside.
Dr. Odinson was hunched over the body, sewing Larry Farmer shut with a precise, skillful hand; a small, absentminded smile had settled over his lips, and Natasha felt herself shudder at the sight. She would try to rationalize that he must be thinking about something pleasant, but she’d seen that same smile on his face countless of times before, all while he worked on the corpses laid out on his steel observation table.
Loki liked what he did, for reasons that she frankly didn’t care to learn.
“Dr. Odinson,” Steve called out, prompting the doctor’s head to turn promptly towards them.
“Ah. Hello, detectives,” he greeted, straightening up. He delicately placed the suture onto Mr. Farmer’s bare chest before stepping away and shucking off his examination gloves. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
“We wanted to pick up the toxicology report on our way back to the station,” Steve explained. “Did you find anything that could be useful?”
“I found a few things that might be useful to you,” he informed them.
His long legs carried him to his desk in powerful, confident strides, and he retrieved a manilla envelope from the stack of neat papers situation on its surface.
“After running some tests, I-“
He was interrupted by the loud, tinny sound of a phone going off, and Steve’s hand flew into his pocket, pulling his device out and glancing at the caller ID.
“It’s Bucky,” he said, glancing up at Natasha. “Is it ok if I…?”
He trailed off, and a spike of anxiety pierced through her at the thought of being left alone with Loki. But she masked her unease with a tight, forced smile before nodding her head.
“Yeah! Yeah, go ahead; I’ll fill you in on whatever you miss.”
Steve nodded his thanks and walked out, accepting the call and bringing the phone up to his ear.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?”
His voice faded as he stepped out of the room, and no other words were discernable as he spoke to his husband in the hallway.
“…As I was saying,” Loki continued on, turning his full attention to Natasha. “After running some tests, I found an unusually large amount of adrenaline in his blood; Dr. Banner mentioned something about finding a syringe in his pocket?”
Natasha nodded, and Loki handed her the envelope, his fingers long and pale against its surface.
“Well, the exact numbers are in the report, but it was enough adrenaline to keep him conscious throughout the process,” he pushed on, a surprising lack of teasing in his voice. “He was, indeed, killed by asphyxiation, though I suspect that, if he hadn’t have been strangled, he would have bled out within a matter of minutes.
“There was a blow to the back of his head, too, that likely wouldn’t have caused any permanent damage, but it’s worth noting.”
“Well, that would confirm that he was knocked out and then taken to the theater,” she mused, biting her lower lip in thought.
“Either that, or he went to the theater with someone who then decided to knock him out. He was, however, fully awake at the time of strangulation.”
Natasha nodded, tucking the envelope under her arm.
“…Thank you, Dr. Odinson,” she finally stated. “I’ll give you a call if I have any questions about your report.”
Aside from the cynical jump in his eyebrows upon hearing her refer to him by this professional title, Loki offered none of his usual sly remarks or glances before turning on his heel and making his way back to the body.
“Any time, Officer Romanoff.”
She grit her teeth in annoyance, glaring at him as he pulled on another set of gloves.
“It’s detective, Loki. And you know it.”
His movements slowed to a stop, and once more his eyes met hers. She forced herself not to look away, staring back at him coolly until he resumed pulling on the gloves.
“My mistake,” he muttered. “Force of habit. Detective Romanoff.”
The redhead nodded, her curls bouncing in her peripheral vision, and hesitated for a second longer before turning back to the doors. Something in her made her stop, though, and she glanced back at the doctor as he picked up the suture once more, his hemostats clicking as he locked them in place.
“…Hey. You doing anything later?”
She hated the tremble in her voice, hated the sick part of her that wanted him to say yes. God knows she didn’t care for the man; his very presence set her teeth on edge.
But she was weak, and he had always been very skilled at relieving the tension she managed to accumulate during the days like this one.
Loki glanced up at her from under his lashes, but his hands didn’t still in their movements as he answered.
“I’m planning on cooking dinner for my girlfriend, actually.”
Silence stretched out between them, and Natasha did nothing to hide the shock on her features. Something cold wrapped around her lungs and squeezed, and she fought down a tide of embarrassment as she thought back to the woman she’d seen Loki talking to several days before.
“…Oh. I’m sorry, I… I didn’t know-“
“It’s quite alright,” he assured her in a, surprisingly, kind tone. “I always did say that conventional relationships weren’t my forte.”
She nodded, recalling the first time he’d said those very same words to her.
“She must be special, then,” Natasha offered, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. “To have changed your mind like that.”
A fond smile came to his lips, very similar to the one he wore when focused on his work, and though she didn’t feel even a shred of jealousy, it was still unnerving to see.
“She’s very special, Detective. Very special indeed.”
On the other side of the doors behind her, Natasha heard Steve say his goodbyes to Bucky, and she turned to walk out before he could join her in the operatory.
Once Loki was left alone in the room, he turned back to Larry Farmer, a bemused smile on his face.
“…It’s complicated,” he said to the corpse, staring down into his cloudy, sightless eyes.
He didn’t expect an answer as he finished sewing up the wound he himself had inflicted, but the smile on his lips didn’t falter.
317 notes · View notes
isthisthingeven0n · 4 years
Text
not so mysterious : d.d / j.w
brief summary: following on from mystery girl, a few months have passed since david first met you. yet, your relationship with jeff isn’t as perfect as everyone seems to believe
part one
word count: 2k requested: YES! the idea of a sequel was wanted so badly, but I also had a combination of requests that would just fit so well. one being a v angsty piece about jeff and another using the lyrics of ‘the less I know the better’ so here we are warnings: angst, toxic relationships (but fluffy ending and christmas!)
* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)
** hi it’s been a while. i have this and one other christmas piece planned. initially i anticipated doing 12 days of christmas but life got in the way. still i hope you enjoy what is to come **
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It still stung when David saw you both together. How Jeff was sitting next to you with his arm slung over your shoulder, seeing you lean into him naturally with a small smile on your face. He wished he didn’t have to see it, hear about you when you weren’t around. But that was the mistake he made, the loss he caused himself that night by not making the first move. 
The pair of you had been dating for just over six months, which was a true surprise to everyone. You didn’t expect it to become anything, and neither did Jeff. As a couple, you were both pretty relaxed. At least on the surface, it all seemed that way but you knew the walls holding you two up were crumbling from the base up.
“Let’s just keep it together for the party.” Jeff tells you as he drives, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, causing his knuckles to whiten as you sigh.
Wiping your eyes, you force back the tears knowing your makeup will smudge. And if you walk in with messy makeup it’s not something Corinna will let you live down or hide with ease.
“Can you just forget I said it?” You ask him weakly, glancing over to see his jaw remaining tightly shut as he clenches his teeth. “It just fucking slipped out!” You try to defend yourself, but it’s no use. He’s not having any of it, he didn’t ask for it.
“I don’t want to argue with you now, Y/n.” Jeff comments as he exhales deeply, not allowing you to speak up as he pulls up outside of David’s house. 
You open your mouth to apologise, but Jeff slams his car door shut before you have the opportunity.
Jeff walks ahead as you follow behind him. He forces a bright smile, and you remain reserved as David opens the front door.
“Hey!” He cheerfully greets you both. “Mind the mistletoe.” He jokes as you pass him, noticing how he’s focusing on your face and not your body like most guys tend to in these sort of environments. 
Clearing his throat, Jeff reaches for you. “Come on, babe.” He mutters, snapping you from your private moment with David who scratches the back of his neck, lowering his head to avoid Jeff’s glare.
For the majority of the party, you find yourself avoiding your own boyfriend knowing once you both walk out of those doors it’ll be over. 
“You okay?” Corinna asks as you zone out, the drink in your hand spilling onto your leg as you look down in a dazed shock.
Corinna rests her hand on your shoulder, forcing you to focus on her as she notices your eyes glossing over. She helps you to your feet, passing by David as he sits with Zane. 
David rises to his feet as he watches you wipe your eyes, but Zane holds him back. “Just leave her be, Dave.” Zane comments with a small smile, one of few sober moments he’d have during the night.
Collapsing down by the bathtub, you bring your legs close to your chest. “Hey, hey,” Corinna mutters caringly as she shuts the bathroom door, running to you as she kneels in front of you. “what, what’s wrong?” 
Sniffing loudly, you wipe your nose. “Me and Jeff,” Your lower lip quivers, not having admitted the truth aloud. “we’re over.” You state bluntly, feeling a dagger twist into your heart, forcing you to stop moving. 
“What, why?” Surprise etches her tone as her eyes dart away. “What did he do?” 
You shake your head. “He didn’t do anything,” You say slowly as you force yourself to take a deep breath. “I, I’m the one who ruined it by telling him I love him.” You laugh at your own stupidity, wiping your face as black smudges onto the back of your hand. But none of it matters, you no longer care. 
“You told him that?” Corinna questions, looking up to see you nodding hesitantly before a small sob escapes your lips and she pulls you close, allowing you to collapse into her arms as your body shakes. 
“He, he doesn’t feel the same, C.” You whisper, scared that everyone else will hear. “He never did, never will.” You admit as tears cascade down your cheeks, landing on Corinna’s hand as she wipes your cheek. 
“You don’t know that.” She soothes, trying her best to provide some form of comfort. 
Once again, you shake your head in response. “He won’t. He, he told me he won’t.” You shut your eyes, reliving the argument you had before you got into the car. “He said I was just a mouth he could use.” You repeat the words that sliced through you like acid.
As soon as those words left his lips the sweet romance you had blossoming died in an instant. Flowers withered into mulch, your heart cut its ties with your brain as it sunk into oblivion leaving you to fend for yourself as Jeff crushed your heart. 
“I’m going to kill him.” Corinna angrily mutters, but you tighten your arms around hers. 
She looks down, seeing your eyes pleading otherwise. “Please, please don’t C.” You implore, knowing she wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t want her to. “I’m just sorry for wasting everyone's time. For, for wasting Jeff’s time, for David, for everyone.” You exhale loudly, oblivious to David standing on the other side of the door with clenched fists.
“It’s not your fault for falling, Y/n.” Corinna tries her best to comfort you as she listens to your breathing haltering. “We sometimes fall hard for the wrong person.” 
“I just wish I fell for the right person.” You think aloud, listening to the faint sound of creaking outside of the door as David quickly retreats. 
David tries to act as if everything is fine with Jeff, but suddenly he is looking at him in a different light. He no longer sees his friend who is entertaining, a womaniser. He broke your heart, leaving you to pick up the pieces alone without offering so much as a helping hand or a broom. 
“Everything okay there, Dave?” Jeff pats David’s shoulder only to have it quickly brushed off. 
You walk out from the bathroom with Corinna who keeps her arm around you, and Jeff quickly catches on. 
“She told you, didn’t she?” Jeff speaks up, raising his voice to catch peoples attention. “She told you that we’re over, right? Because guess what, she has eyes for someone else.” He points at you with a bitter note in his voice. “I thought we could’ve been somethin’, but I was wrong.” He mutters before patting David once more on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, buddy.” He scoffs, pushing David back before heading toward the door. 
Taking a step forward, you weave through the crowd avoiding David until you reach the front door. 
Closing the door behind you Jeff stands at the top of the driveway. “What the fuck was all that, Jeff?” You yell, lifting your arms up as he turns around to face you.
“What’d you expect, huh?!” He yells back with more anger. “You wanna lean on someone else, don’t act like it’s not true. I’ve seen the way you look at him, the way he looks back at you, Y/n.” He shakes his head, lifting his hands as he buries them into his hair. “I’ve been such an idiot this whole time.” 
You remain still in disbelief. “Who? Me and, and David?” You stutter over your words, forcing a short laugh. “Come on Jeff, David is a friend.” You state, but Jeff shakes his head.
“He’ll never be just a friend, Y/n.” He tells you, moving closer into your space. “You know the first night I met you, I could tell you wished I were him.” He coldly comments in your face. “I just knew you regretted it, but it was too late.” 
“Don’t say that.” You tell him with sorrow rising in your voice. “Don’t try and take this all back because you’re angry, Jeff.” 
“I’m not takin’ any of it back, Y/n.” He laughs, moving away from you as he paces around. “All I’m saying is what I know, and that is the fact you might be in love with someone who isn’t me.” 
The sentence hangs in the air around you, refusing to settle as you remain silent. 
“Tell me I’m wrong.” Jeff demands, but no words leave your lips. “Exactly what I thought.” He mutters before walking off, leaving you stood alone in the driveway. 
“Y/n?” You hear your name being called as a stray tear falls down your cheek. 
Quickly wiping it away, you turn around to see David walking toward you. “Oh, hey.” You force a small smile, but David can see right through it. 
“Is everything okay?” He questions, resting his hands on your upper arms as he focuses on your eyes.
You nod in response, but slowly change it into a no. Upon seeing your eyes glistening once more, David pulls you into his arms, refusing to let go. “Come on,” He mumbles into your hair as he guides you into the side entrance to the house and into his room.
Inside it feels cosy as a small tree remains illuminated as a fake fire plays on the TV. A giggle leaves your lips at his attempt of making his room festive, but you admire the effort. “Sure feels like Christmas just threw up in here.” You joke, looking up as David rolls his eyes. 
“Least I made you laugh.” He smiles to you as he pushes back some blankets from his bed as you collapse down. 
“Listen, I’m sorry for all that,” You apologise immediately, but David holds his hand up to object. “no, really.” You hold his hand, lowering it. “I need to say it now, otherwise I don’t think I ever will.” You shut your eyes, your hand still resting on his. “The first night we met, I do regret not spending more time with you. But, the more I’ve gotten to know you, the closer we’ve become and I wouldn’t change any of it.” You explain, and David nods. 
He swallows the lump in his throat, focusing on you as you slowly glide your hand away from his. “Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” He trails on, watching as you sigh silently. 
“But,” You pause, opening your eyes to see a disheartened expression on his face. “I really wouldn’t change any of it. Not my relationship with Jeff, our friendship.” You state, motioning between you both. “But now I’m scared I’ve lost both.” 
“Hey,” David lifts his hand up to your cheek, forcing you to focus on him. “you haven’t lost anything yet.” He swallows back his pride, knowing this is what would be best for you and Jeff. “All you have to do is talk to him, Y/n. Really talk to him.” He smiles, hiding is growing feelings for you once more. 
“You think he’ll take me back?” There’s a slither of hope lacing your tone, and David smiles brightly, nodding.
“He’d be stupid not to.” He states, knowing if it were him he’d take you back in a heartbeat. 
You shuffle closer, wrapping your arms around David. “You’re such a good friend, Dave.” You tell him truthfully, and David hopes you can’t hear his heartbreaking. “I, I better go.” 
David watches as you rise to your feet and stand by his doorway. With the light illuminating you, you look like an angel, one who will never be his. “Thank you Dave,” You say as you blow a kiss. “Merry Christmas.” 
“Merry Christmas, Y/n.” He smiles softly to you, watching as you close the door leaving him in the dimly lit room with the pieces of his heart left to pick up.
373 notes · View notes
purplesurveys · 3 years
Text
1188
Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? I did it a couple of times with a past girlfriend, but I’m honestly not a fan of it unless I’m somewhere with a serious lack of bathrooms and it’s the only choice available. I like my space when I get myself all cleaned up lol.
What kind of pizza toppings do you like?  Different kinds of cheeses do it for me, really. If I absolutely have to pick toppings, I do like bacon, bell peppers, barbecue chicken, or onions on my pizza.
When did you first take a shot of alcohol?  I have no idea, actually. Maybe 20? 21? I never noted the year down. I don’t even know the first shot I ever took...if I had to guess, it was probably tequila.
Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No. I babysat because I was the eldest daughter and granddaughter in an Asian household, haha.
Who is your favorite band? How long have they been?  Paramore; 17 years, have loved them for 14.
Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Many times. She used to be a welcome guest.
Have you ever been to a spa?  I don’t think I’ve ever entered one, no. There’s been no reason to in the past.
When talking on the phone, do you place it against your left or right ear? Right. I don’t remember ever placing it on my left, come to think of it.
What’s your favourite Lunchables meal?  Idk, I’ve never had them. American thing, I’m guessing.
Do you like Bob Marley?  I don’t hold an opinion on him; I’ve never tried listening to his music.
Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Nope, I don’t know what that is, either.
Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family?  Yes, we have dinner together every night. We’ve been doing it since the start of the pandemic; and, with that, since my dad has had to stay at home since he can’t report to work anyway considering the situation. I imagine we’d be back to eating separately once he can report back to his job.
Are you listening to any music right now? If so, what are you listening to?  Yeah, I’m listening to Map of the Soul: 7 and UGH! just started playing. This is such a good FUCKING album it’s absolutely insane how good it is. Whatever spirit possessed BTS throughout 2019 to produce an album this unbelievable wasn’t playing.
Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile?  Hobi, since I rewatched the Run BTS segment where he called Conan O’Brien ‘Curtain.’
Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? No.
Do you like men who have a sensitive side?  I think it’s nice when anyone has a sensitive side and isn’t ashamed to be in touch and expressive with their emotions. Doesn’t have to apply to just guys.
Have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist?  I don’t do that with any of my interests because I don’t want to potentially irritate or bore someone, or to potentially face the disappointment I’d feel when they don’t end up being enthusiastic about what I’m into. I’m totally okay with my interests just being My Thing, no need to drag other people into them.
Have you ever carved you and someone else’s initials into a tree?  Nopes.
Do you like Dairy Queen?  Just some items, like their Oreo Frappe or whatever it’s called. I’m not a big fan of ice cream cakes and I’ve never really explored their Blizzards.
Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story?  Andi.
Is there a song in a different language that you can sing? Well Filipino is my first language rather than English, so yes.
How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts?  I’ve never experienced this other than One Direction using fireworks at the end of their concert here (and they weren’t launched from the stage either, but somewhere backstage), so I don’t really know what to feel about this other than they should just make sure they’re following safety protocols and standards to avoid mishaps.
Ever fallen down a hole?  I don’t think so.
Do you like bananas?  Not so much, but I don’t passionately hate it as much as I do other fruits. I do like some dishes that incorporate banana, like banana bread and banoffee pie. Recently I discovered Korean banana milk and it ended up tasting pretty good!
How long do you normally spend in the shower? Not even 10 minutes, usually. I've never understood how people can take such long showers. < Yeah, pretty much on the same page. The only times I take a while is if I feel like shaving, but otherwise I shower quickly. Maybe around 4–7 minutes at most.
Have you ever been a featured member on any website?  I don’t think that ever happened, at least when having featured members was still a thing.
Have you ever had any weird pets?  Nope.
Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone?  I am not. Though I know I have unread messages from Andi...I just don’t feel like checking them right now.
Have you ever experienced insomnia?  Only when I was a teenager. It’s been a while since I’ve faced any trouble in trying to fall asleep.
Do you like egg nog? I’ve never had a chance to try it but it sounds delicious, and I would definitely take a sip the first opportunity I get.
Would you ever wear Converse with a prom/formal dress?  I don’t see why I would have to but if it’s just for funsies, it sounds pretty harmless so yeah, I would.
Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows?  Withoooooooooout. I’ve never understood marshmallows.
How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over?  In a romantic sense, none. But I’ve cried for other reasons, like when I mourned over my grandpa and Nacho.
Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician?  Surgeon, since there’s a tiny part in me that had always wanted to take up med school.
Would rather be a musician or a painter? Painter, if anything. I’m not creative by any means, but I feel like I’d enjoy a lot more freedom with painting.
Would you rather write your own book or make your own movie? [continued from last night] Write my own book I suppose, but I could only work with non-fiction. I’d embarass myself if I had to write something not based off of real life.
At home, do you have a trampoline? No. But this reminds me of when we’d go to Rita’s place to have meetings whenever we couldn’t hold them in school. She’s the richest one out of all of us, lives in a very old money village, big-ass house, big-ass kitchen, big-ass receiving areas (plural)...and they also have a nice trampoline in their big-ass yard. We always used to horse around in there as soon as we were done with our meetings.
When you are about to go to bed, do you put on some sort of noise?  I used to put on a YouTube video that would entertain me enough to feel relaxed and eventually sleepy, but I haven’t done that in the last few weeks. These days I usually look for a fanfic to get absorbed in, then I read until my eyes start feeling heavy.
What is your favorite Christmas movie?  Love Actually or It’s A Wonderful Life.
And what about your favorite Christmas song?  It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas makes me feel festive and fuzzy.
What is your ultimate favorite stocking stuffer?  My family doesn’t really keep up with this tradition. I remember how our grandparents would fix up stockings for us when we were much younger, but they were usually filled with candy. 
After Halloween, do you sort out all of your candy into little piles?  I never collected candy for Halloween.
When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it?  Depends. The rare times I’m working and do feel like putting headphones on, the volume has to be just decent enough so I can still focus. If I’m not doing anything else or at least doing something that doesn’t involve too much ~brain activity~, I like my music very loud.
What did you have for breakfast this morning?  It doesn’t really count as breakfast but I’m currently finishing off the remaining two pieces of McNuggets I got last night. 10 pieces is apparently too many for my appetite, haha.
What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet?  Cooper has probably been the biggest and heaviest so far.
Do you own any kind of helmet?  We have a bike helmet here at home, but it’s not exclusively mine.
Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite?  I don’t memorize the fridge so I can’t tell you my favorite food that’s currently in it; as for drink, I just stick to cold water.
What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?  Sprained ankle after I tripped at one of the parking lots in school.
Do you like the taste of cough syrup?  I’ve never had it.
What is something you like to have conversations about?  People with experiences vastly different from mine, because it lets me explore different perspectives. It’s why I always look forward to family reunions with one of my uncles - who’s a foreigner, from a very different country - since he’s able to share a lot of fun and reflective stories about his life and stuff he did in his youth, stuff I never got to experience and live through.
What all is in the trunk of your car?  The trunk used to be my trash can lmao, back when I was still driving everyday. My mom has since cleared it out since the beginning of the pandemic; I believe only a laptop bag is sitting there now.
Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? No. I don’t even eat either.
Is your heat or air conditioning currently on?  My electric fan is. I don’t turn on the aircon until the evening.
Have you ever fallen off of a horse?  Nopes.
Which do you value more, your appearance or your intelligence?  Both are important to me.
When was the last time you drove something other than a car or truck?  I don’t remember. I’ve only ever driven cars.
Were your grandparents present when you were born?  Neither set wasn’t in any of the photos from my birth, so I don’t think so...? My maternal grandparents definitely wouldn’t have been present, since my parents had been living in Manila then.
If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things?  I vape...pretty much all day. I’m doing it while taking this survey. As for drink, I would say 1-2 times a month. Usually after a particularly grueling shift.
What do you think of fast food?  I love it. Unabashedly. I just don’t have them a lot because I don’t find it filling and the quality is obviously lower; but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the way fast food tastes.
What website do you spend the most time on and why?  Google Suite, if it counts. I work 5 days a week; it’s pretty much an extension of me at this point.
What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you?  All day. I’m always using the internet to do things. I used to be embarrassed of it, but these days I feel like having a connection is virtually an essential.
When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Museums, historical sites, cultural sites, and spots where they show you how they do practices native to the place. I’ve always been about immersing myself in the cultures of the places I visit.
What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it?  I remember having to walk for a very very very VERY long time when we were in Bali - my family wanted to explore more of the city - and the weather wasn’t cooperative at all, so I ended up feeling super cranky. I remember also walking around a lot in Shanghai, but that was a slightly better experience since the city was incredibly lively and there were a lot of things to see and stop at; not to mention the weather was also kinda pleasant. The cold was biting but I would always rather be too cold than walk around with sweat-soaked clothes.
What is something important that’s often on your mind lately?  Our financial situation what with Covid affecting both my parents’ jobs. We get by enough for me not to worry too much, but I also hope my dad can get called back to his ship soon just so I can finally exhale with relief.
What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it?  My workplace recently introduced this workout challenge thingy for the month of May that we’re invited to join to encourage us to get fit and healthy. I get notifications whenever someone’s able to exercise for the day and it makes me feel super pressured hahahaha. Since I don’t wanna be known as a killjoy co-worker I know I’ll have to take part in it, which I will start on later.
Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it?  No. Back in elementary my grandma made me eat oatmeal every day for breakfast before heading to school, so I don’t ever want to have another bowl of it.
What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic?  My family and I were having a conversation during dinner last night and for some reason it eventually veered towards mine and my sister’s experiences from our first school and how we managed to get up at 5 AM everyday, have classes from 7 AM–4 PM, then get home from anywhere between 5–6 PM for 14 years straight. How tf did we do that and never complain???
How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything?  None.
What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played?  While I love watching playthroughs, I am not skilled at video games at all and in most video games I’ve played I never made it past the first mission, unless I was playing a Nintendo game that’s already marketed for kids in the first place lol.
Which accent do you find most sexy, alluring or appealing?  There’s a certain British accent I find very pleasant to listen to, but since I know there are a lot of variations I’m just not sure which one it is. I guess an accurate point of reference would be Hugh Grant’s or Florence Pugh’s accent.
Which accent do you find most annoying, disturbing, or bothersome?  None of them.
Can you cry on cue? Is it any kind of useful?  Nope.
Does it take you a while to actually get jokes?  Sometimes.
Can you wear socks to bed or does it annoy you?  I don’t really like the feeling of socks, so no. I find them a bit itchy, and too tight.
Have you ever bleached your hair?  Never done it before.
Do you like jelly beans?  Erm, it would depend on the flavor, I guess. But they aren’t so much my snack of choice. The texture is a bit weird.
Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s storming?  Not at all, I feel a lot cozier when it’s raining hard.
Who was the last person you know that graduated? (high school or college)  Sofie posted her graduation photo not too long ago, so probably her.
Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming?  I never had a babysitter because I was the babysitter.
Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten?  No. I went to an all-girls school, so I didn’t even get to interact with a lot of boys until the middle of high school.
Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series?  Nope.
Who was your best friend in elementary school?  Angela. I was also friends for a long time with a girl named Jaynie, with whom I actually started to reconnect ever since she found out I was now into BTS. I find it so cool; I don’t think I’ve talked to her since the 2nd grade, 15 years ago.
Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies?  I didn’t.
Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. I'd put them on my dresser everywhere to the point it was absolutely covered. < Literally this entire answer; I don’t have any clue how my overly neat mom managed to never spank me for destroying her closet. I also liked collecting Pokemon cards and pogs even though I never knew how to use them. It just felt nice having large stacks of them lol.
Did you get an allowance?  Not until high school. My grandma (and eventually househelp, when we moved) fixed up packed lunches for me and my siblings. When my mom decided to stop having house helpers at home, that’s when she started giving us an allowance to buy recess and lunch ourselves.
Were you into American Girl dolls?  I was never into dolls in general. Since my sister and I were the only girls at home, we were surrounded by toys marketed for boys and that’s what I enjoyed playing with more.
Were you friends with your childhood neighbors?  We played with the neighborhood kids every afternoon but I wouldn’t call them friends. I was a very shy kid and I found them too rowdy for my liking, especially the boys.
What was your biggest fear when you were a kid?  Flying cockroaches. It’s still one of them.
Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games?  I don’t think so.
Did your parents let you drink soda growing up? I’m pretty sure they would’ve allowed me to, but I just never liked the feeling of fizzy drinks so I never drank soda anyway.
What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid?  I think I liked mocha sponge cakes growing up, but that has changed now.
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redrebecca · 5 years
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A Mendes Movie Night
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(not my gif)
Because halloween without watching a scary film isn’t halloween, at least, not to Shawn.
A/N: So the amazing @fourtristattoos is doing this writing festival and I needed to sort myself out and write something, so here we are. Feedback is always appreciated, have a good day!
Words: 2.6k
*
You had to admit, Shawn had done well with this one. Unbeknownst to you, he had spent his day off last week walking around Toronto and scouring review websites to find a cafe that the two of you could visit regularly. It had your seal of approval the second you stepped inside. It was a small place hidden away a bit further down the street than you usually ventured. 
Shawn smiled at you as you took another bite of your pastry, holding back a laugh as he watched small pieces flake down the front of your jumper despite your best efforts to stop them. He was sure that if it hadn’t been for the small ding in his jean pocket he would’ve continued to stare at you. Tearing his eyes away, he glanced at the notification 
Mum: Your dad and sister are out tonight. Come over and watch a film with me later?
“Hey. Mendes are you even listening?” It took a rather firm nudge under the table for him to pull his eyes away from his phone and back to you. 
“Sorry, I got a text.” He said whilst passing his phone to you so you could also read the message. 
You did feel a slight pang of disappointment, after all you had been looking forward to a night full of cuddling, blankets and, well, Shawn. But you shook the feeling away, remembering that essay you needed to finish and a distraction (Shawn) free evening would be a perfect opportunity to get it out of the way.
“Yeh that’s fine, do you want me to make you something to eat before you go or is Karen cooking?” Knowing that if Shawn was visiting, his mum would definitely be cooking, you instead focused on what you could eat - the new chinese takeaway down the street looked like a great contender. Your food filled thoughts were interrupted by Shawn’s hand taking and gently squeezing yours.
“You’re coming with me.”
You shook your head and focused on your interlocked hands. “She asked you, not me.” In your periphery, you could see Shawn dip his head, trying to match your eye level. Before you could stop yourself, you let your eyes drift back to his, his lips curving into a soft smile in return.
“You’re always invited, you know that.” Not knowing how to bring up what you really wanted to say, you hummed and diverted your attention to your half eaten croissant, which had caught your eye the second you walked into the cafe. You felt his stare on you after you took a bite of your food. 
You took a moment to finish your mouthful before you spoke. “What?” Shawn kept his eyes on you for a little longer. When his stare became slightly unnerving, you reached forward for the handle of your mug, deciding that you might as well use the time (and your latte) to get the small pieces of pastry from your teeth.
“Why don’t you want to go?” At first, his question threw you a little. You swallowed.
“I have an essay I need to finish for class.” At his facial expression that screamed I really don't believe you, you continued “And you haven't seen your Mum in ages and I don’t want to interrupt anything.” You scanned his face for his reaction. When he nodded slowly and picked up his phone before presumably replying to Karen, you let out a tiny sigh of relief. He bought it. 
“Now,” He said, his voice unmistakably clearer than earlier. You watched as he set his phone down next to his cup and leant towards you, arms crossed and elbows planted on the table. His eyes narrowed. “Tell me the real reason you don’t want to go.” You bit your lip, hard, to stop yourself from groaning. Of course, whilst creating your plan, you’d forgotten to consider the fact that to Shawn, no matter how convincing you thought you were, you were as transparent as a pane of glass, if not more. 
You quickly surrendered your act, knowing you wouldn’t fool him. “When I said I'd never watch a horror film with your Mum again, I meant it.” A mix of emotions crossed his face, satisfaction that he was right about his suspicions and also an air of displeasure that he was right.
“Last time wasn’t that bad.” He protested.
“Shawn, I couldn't sleep for three nights, and neither could you if I remember correctly.” He opened and closed his mouth, but no argument he could formulate was going to be able to neutralise that statement. “Listen, when we get home I’ll bake her that cake she loves and you can give Karen it and tell her I’m sorry and that I-” During your rambling, you hadn’t noticed the buzz of Shawn’s phone or that he had picked it up and read the text.
“You can tell her yourself.” He said, stopping you mid sentence. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you didn’t catch onto what he meant.
“What?” He looked at you hesitantly, as if he was unsure of what your reaction would be. Which from past experiences, was never a good sign. You tilted your head and eyed him. “What did you do?” Shawn gulped
“I asked her if you could come,” Your eyes widened and his averted them. “And she said yes.” 
“Shawn!” You whisper-yelled across the table, keeping in mind that you were in a relatively quiet cafe, not in the comfort of any form of privacy. “What the hell?”
“Look I’m sorry, but if I have to suffer scary movie night with my Mum, you do as well.” You shook your head at him in disbelief and sat back in your chair. 
“Always so romantic.” You said sarcastically, knocking his ankle with your boot clad foot under the table. He yelped and glared at you whilst you blew him a kiss. “I love you very much, but I’m not going.”
*
“This isn’t a good idea.” You mumbled from underneath the scarf you had flung on before leaving your house. The box that held the still-warm chocolate cake was clutched in your hands as you and Shawn approached the front porch of the Mendes household. Shawn tugged his hand from his pocket to knock on the door.
“So it hasn’t changed since you last said it, which was, what? Three minutes ago?” He smirked when your response was once again muffled by the scarf. He cupped your cheeks and pushed the fabric down from your nose to your chin with his thumbs before he lifted an eyebrow, prompting you to speak. 
“Be cheeky once more, I dare you.” His smirk widened at your challenging stare.
“Or what? Are you gonna go home and leave me?” The sarcasm in his voice made you want to scream, but you bit it back knowing that a reaction like that would make his cockiness even more insufferable - which was not what you wanted. So instead you swatted his hands away and took a step back from him.
“You know what Mendes, I might just do that.” To your surprise, his smirk turned into a grin. A big toothy grin, that in other circumstances, you loved to see. But in this one, it meant he had found a loophole that was good enough to catch you out. In other words, checkmate.
“Well, I hope you wore your comfortable shoes because it’s a long walk back to Toronto.” At your, no doubt, confused expression, he jiggled his jacket pocket and you groaned when you heard the sound of clinking. “I have the car keys.” Before you could even think of a response, you were interrupted by the hollow click of the door. The warmth of Karen’s smile, and the house, was all you needed to forget the situation and rush inside, with Shawn at your heels. 
“I’m just gonna take the food out of the oven, you two can go through and make yourselves comfortable if you like.” Karen said before rushing off to the kitchen, leaving you and Shawn in the hall. You unzipped your coat and then your boots, purposefully avoiding Shawn’s looks or not-so-discreetly dodging him when he moved to ‘accidentally’ brush his hand on your arm. Whether there was a pout on his lips or not, you were confident he had got the message - you weren’t happy with him. After hanging your scarf next to your coat, you made your way to the living room. You did try to give Shawn a wide berth, but the size of the corridor and the length of Shawn’s ridiculously long limbs meant that when he reached out to grab your elbow, there wasn’t much you could do.
“Hey, c’mon you’ll be okay.” He murmured as he tugged you closer to him, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheek. You nodded and stepped into his arms, which without a moment of hesitation, tightened around you. The wool of his knitted jumper was scratchy against your skin and was probably leaving a strange mark on your cheek as you pressed yourself closer to him. “You know, if you get scared, you can just hold my hand. I promise I'll protect you.” For what seemed to be the 100th time that night, you groaned and lifted your head from his chest. 
“I hate you.” He hummed and leant down to leave a kiss on your nose.
“I love you too honey. Now let’s go and grab the blankets from my room.” He walked towards the stairs, looking back at you when you didn’t follow.
“The one with the monkeys on?” You grinned remembering the collections of blankets, that in your opinion, Shawn had owned for a bit too long. He smiled at your laugh.
“You bet.” Instead of going up the stairs like you expected him to, he stood perfectly still, never taking his eyes off you. The only thing that changed was the smile that was slowly but surely becoming a grin.
“What?” You asked warily.
“Race you!” Before you could take a step in his direction he was bounding up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
*
The movie had been playing for about 30 minutes. Well, that’s how long you had counted on Shawn’s watch since it started. Deciding from the opening scene that this movie definitely wasn’t for you, you’d spent the last half hour fiddling with his fingers, the rings on his fingers, the sleeve of his sweater and the clasp on his watch (The one you’d tried on about 10 minutes in. That was before you had remembered Shawn telling you how much he had bought it for. It was fair to say you were quick to slide it back onto his wrist after that particular recollection). 
Admittedly, by one hour and five minutes you were getting bored of doing - to put it simply - nothing. At some point you had tugged a bit too hard at one of the loose threads on Shawn’s jumper and had panicked, fearing that it would all unravel at your fingertips if you tried to fix it - therefore leaving you with one less distraction. And eventually you had estimated the individual cost of the pieces of his jewelry, none of which you would consider to be a sensible price to pay, so you had concluded it was probably best if you kept your popcorn grease covered fingers far, far away from them. So you had ended up staring at the wall and reminiscing about how nice Karen’s roast dinner was, because damn that woman could cook.
However it was during your stare-at-the-wall thoughts that you realised that you hadn’t noticed Shawn jump. Not even once. Did that mean it wasn’t that scary? 
Soon enough you had convinced yourself that you were going to watch the movie. After all, your momma didn’t raise a quitter, and it wasn’t real - a statement that had been mentioned many times in your inner pep talk. Taking a deep breath, you turned your head towards the screen and reached for some popcorn out of the bowl in Shawn’s lap.
*
1 jump scare. 
That was all it took to break down your facade. 
One moment you had been sitting calmly, silently amazed that you had managed to keep your composure for so long, and then the next, you have your face hidden in the crook of Shawn’s neck with his arm anchoring you next to him with your heartbeat pounding so loudly you were confident that Shawn could hear it never mind feel it.
“You okay honey?” He whispered into your ear, running his hand up and down your thigh in an attempt to calm your racing pulse.
“I’m scared.” You said against his neck. He didn’t move for at least a minute after the words left your mouth so you assumed he hadn’t heard them. That was until you felt his fingers interlock with yours. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 
“There’s only 20 minutes left. Can you wait that long?” You slowly nodded and moved your head so your cheek was pressed to his chest instead of his neck. You nodded and closed your eyes as he began to play with your hair.
*
“Okay bye! Love you both!” Karen shouted from the front door as you and Shawn walked towards the car. You both turned to wave goodbye as she closed the door before quickly returning to cuddling into each other as another gust of wind blew past you.
“I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight.”
“Neither am I.” You replied. Shawn stopped walking and stared at you, a look of disbelief on his face.
“What do you mean? You watched two minutes of it!” 
“I watched more than two minutes!” 
“You didn’t watch enough to give you nightmares.” He argued back.
“No you idiot, I meant that if you aren’t gonna get to sleep I doubt I will either.” You dipped your chin so your scarf covered your nose and cheeks as another burst of freezing cold wind made you shiver. You peered up at Shawn from under your hood to see he was smirking at you. He sauntered closer to you.
“What are you suggesting we’re gonna do?” He said and you could actually hear the smirk in his voice.
“Shut up, I didn’t mean that. I meant that when you can’t sleep you get whiny and then I can’t get to sleep either.” 
“I do not get whiny.”
“You do.” 
“No I don’t” Quickly realising where the conversation would head if you continued, you walked towards the car.
“C’mon Shawn, it’s freezing.” You tugged on the door handle. “Open the car.” 
He held the keys up and swung them around his index finger. “Take it back.” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Say that I don’t get ‘whiny’” He mimicked your voice in the way he knew you couldn’t stand. If it were warmer, you would refuse. But you weren’t so sure you could last too long in the wind - frostbite slowly becoming one of your concerns as your fingers on the handle turned a strange colour.
“Fine, you don’t whine.” He waited for a second before he nodded his approval and pressed the button on his keys. The hollow click was all you needed to hear before you swung the car door open.
“You just turn into a crybaby.”
“Hey!”
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Text
Escapade
H.Shinsou x S.Todoroki, H.Shinsou x I.Midoriya, S.Todoroki x I.Midoriya, I.Midoriya x O.Uraraka, and various hints to other ships
Warnings: Slow burn(?), unrequited love, brief breaking of the fourth wall lmao
Have been writing since 03/07/2019
Word count 2810
Reblogs > Likes, pleasepleaseplease–
Lengthiness under the cut!
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xx/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Outside ; Hitoshi Shinsou
Hitoshi shuddered, hands instinctively reaching to cup over his mouth in some attempt to warm them through his thick gloves. He gave warm, drawn out breaths that helped to spare his lips from the almost burning cold, however otherwise, the gesture proved fruitless– Even more than the occasional, leafless trees that he passed. And so, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gave a somewhat frustrated sigh that easily converted into Winter fog.
He hated almost everything about the season– Shivering in the snow, persistent carolers, and the pressure to buy gifts for people that he barely knew. At least he had the excuse to take a break from school and hide inside during the whole of said break.
Regardless, however, the purple-haired male was there: Walking through the snow, toward the mall– clad in two-and-a-half layers of clothing–, with the intent to buy a Christmas present for a bush.
Said bush's name was Izuku Midoriya, one of the famed former students of class 1-A who not only survived multiple villain attacks, but also managed to help get Hitoshi into the hero course. Maybe it wasn't the achievement that he was most recognized for, but it was the one that truly spoke of his sincerity and kindness, in Hitoshi's heart.
...So what if he had a crush? Izuku already obviously had his own on a certain brunette from 2-B, so he knew he didn't have any chance– Having fallen for a straight boy.
As he continued to walk, a bitter taste was left in Shinsou's mouth.
xx/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Shouto Todoroki
A gentle sigh flitted from between the heterochromatic boy's lips as he laid on the sofa in the commons room, scrolling through a website that he'd found on his phone. As if to loosen the tense feeling that only Shouto seemed to experience, he hummed to himself, searching through lists upon lists of gifts upon gifts.
And still, nothing.
He wanted to find the perfect gift– Something that conveyed his feelings to Izuku without needing to use words; Something unlike anything else that he had ever even seen; Something special and completely unique, made only for him. That was what Shouto wanted to give his classmate; That was what Shouto wanted to give to his favorite person;
That was what Shouto wanted to give to the boy that he loved. While he was aware that his feelings weren't returned, and while he was aware that they never would be, he was going to tell him, come Christmas. And, with their relationship becoming deafeningly awkward, he was going to ruin the holiday for everybody in class 2-A. And he'd run back to his mother, and cry, and hide from the rest of the world until somebody other than Enji would inherit the agency– And then he'd become a hero through that and never have to see the pro hero Deku, again. He could already see it happening.
The boy with bicolored hair blinked before shaking his head, turning to pick his dead phone back into his hands.
As he stood to charge the pocket-sized computer, a solemn, cold feeling spread throughout Todoroki's veins.
25/12/xxxx ; The morning ; Commons room ; Neito Monoma
Neito was somehow of the first up, slipping down the stairs to see a pajama-clad Tooru, Mina, and Denki. The electric blonde was sitting at the table, 'recharging' himself with some oatmeal topped with whipped cream and banana slices– A combination that the former 1-B student saw disgust in. Tooru and Mina, however, were sitting near their bad excuse of a Christmas tree– of course, bless Ibara for growing it for them, but she admitedly could've done much better–, snooping around to see who got the most presents and guessing what said presents were. And Monoma, of course, was going to be the one to put a stop to it.
"Ashido, Hagakure! Don't be so childish as to peek through the presents! While it is to be expected of you 1-A brats, those are saved for later when we're all up together!"
"Omigosh, Monoma, you're starting to sound like Iida–" Ashido's attention was immediately captured by the boy, albeit not for the reason that he'd been looking for. Monoma's frown grew.
"That isn't the point!–"
"Eh?... 'S too early for this..." An all-too-familiar voice complained tiredly, an open yawn sounding from the same direction. "...Why not be Christmasy 'n cheery 'n stuff, instead?" Hitoshi sounded half asleep, as he always was before his usual morning coffee– Bitter and black, as he often described his soul.
A steel-haired boy– having previously gone unnoticed– then gave his hum, sending a sunshine smile from the kitchen to his classmate, "Coffee's on the pot if you need some, Shin!" Tetsutetsu called, being one of the few 2-A students who could easily bear the early hours.
A thin, lazy smile found its way onto Hitoshi's face. "Perfect timing. Thanks."
25/12/xxxx ; The early afternoon ; Kitchen ; Momo Yaoyorozu
The bushy-haired boy hobbled downstairs with a yawn, fuzzy sock slipping at the bottom– But, of course, a tall ravenette was there to catch him.
"Good morning, Midoriya." The young woman called softly as she gripped his shoulders, easing him into more of an upright position. She chose not to comment on it, as based on the shorter's expression, the near incident was enough of a wake-up call. "Did you sleep well?"
"Um–" Izuku began as they headed toward the kitchen, still recovering from the split-second panic. "Y-yeah. I was really excited, last night, so I think I went to bed, too late, though..." His voice trailed off into more of a tired mumble, which was always adorable– Sometimes, Momo was convinced that she was surrounded by a litter of cute, rambunctious puppies and not the future's greatest heroes.
"Yes. I think that you're the last one up, actually." She commented matter-of-factly, reaching into a cupboard to retrieve a pouch of caffeinated tea. "Would you like some tea to help wake you up?" She asked before her friend had the chance to feel guilty.
Sometimes, Yaoyorozu very easily read her peers. More than just Izuku knew this, as he nodded with his "Mmhm, thank you."
25/12/xxxx ; The early afternoon ; Dorms ; Fumikage Tokoyami
Quite the diverse group was walking through the snow, making the short trek from class 2-B's dorm building to class 2-A's– Said group consisting of an explosive boy, a bubbly brunette, a horned blonde, and a bird-headed boy. Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka were exchanging their comments, as the frenemies often did, while Fumikage Tokoyami and Pony Tsunotori kept to themselves.
That was fine, however, as the trip was short– It wasn't long before a sharp redhead was opening the door, laughing at something that his twin-like friend had said. "Come on in, guys!" Eijirou'd said between chuckles.
Of course, Fumikage gratefully accepted the invite to come in, happy to shed his thick scarf and jacket– Even if he enjoyed the cold, he could only take it to an extent. The crow-like boy made a point to leave his garments on the coat rack, for later, before perching onto one of the arms of a couch.
He only observed, for a time– How Ochako easily found her way toward Momo and Izuku, and how two other boys also seemed to be carefuly regarding the group. How Mina and Denki seemed to momentarily deflate when they'd been told their tape friend was celebrating off-campus. How festive Yuuga looked, with his Rudolph-inspired makeup and fake antlers. How Tooru and Nirengeki seemed to really enjoy decorating Ibara's head.
25/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Ochako Uraraka
Eventually, conversations around the sofas seemed to float toward Ochako's distaste with being separated from her previous classmates. "Yeah, I've gotten to know lots of great people in 2-B, but kinda miss sharing class with my friends from last year, y'know?" She'd pointed out, which had lit flares of passion in those such as Katsuki and Eijirou.
"I miss my friends, too." Izuku chimed in, at some point, which seemed to easily halt Ochako and Katsuki's oncoming argument. "But, I think it's just natural that we.. Mm, I don't know how to put it. Expand? But, also, well..." The green-haired boy paused, trying not to spiral into a moment of muttering. "And, we can all still see eachother, after classes." He pointed out with a smile, and that was that.
"Such is the way of life." Fumikage added as somewhat of a word of advice.
Ochako couldn't help but notice how Pony folded her hands in her lap, leaning back into the couch as her blank stare and almost wistful smile faced nobody in particular. "I have no idea what you just said." She commented, which did cause some giggles and snickers to sound around their sort of cirlce– Ochako's sweetly humored one, included.
25/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Eijirou Kirishima
Everybody who said they'd attend the gathering seemed to be there, and most importantly, everybody seemed to have relaxed. The faux-redhead gave a shark-toothed grin as he carefully slid a headband onto a blonde's head– Of course, as soon as said blonde felt it, his hand lifted for a deathgrip around Eijirou's wrist.
He was glad that his quirk easily resisted his friend.
"Can you guess which reindeer you are?" He gave suppressed giggles as Katsuki's grip lightened, hand soon dropping into his lap. It was nice that the explosive boy's temper seemed to have lengthened– Even if only somewhat, at least something had definitely changed between his first argument with Tenya, and now.
Katsuki shifted slightly, his expression more of a neutral sort of grumpy. "Rudolph?" He guessed the obvious one, an eyebrow raised.
"Nope! I'm pretty sure Aoyama's got that covered, haha."
"...None of the other names are important." The blonde mumbled lowly, head leaned back to ensure only the boy behind him heard that. It was his way of admitting that he had no clue what the other reindeer's names were.
"Blitzen–" Kirishima couldn't help bursting into laughter, and admittedly, a small smile did tug at Katsuki's lips. "Because– Y'know–" He tried to speak between laughs, as he imitated the sound of an explosion.
25/12/xxxx ; The late afternoon ; The kitchen ; Rikido Satou
"Hey– Where are Midoriya and Todoroki?" Rikido asked, just about finished with handing out his festive sugar cookies– Only a little candycane and bushel of holly were left. He set his tray onto the counter as he glanced around the kitchen, no Izuku nor Shouto in sight.
"I saw them head for the elevators," Ochako chimed in, finding her seat atop the corner of the table. "Maybe Deku's giving Todoroki another present? Or– Y'know, the other way around?"
It made sense– Not long after the bushy-haired shounen protagonist had woken up, the group took their turns around the tree to hand out gifts. While they both received their abundance of presents, it'd seemed Shouto was still somewhat anticipatory, an emotion unlike his usually stoic self. Though the brunette gave a shrug, deciding to dismiss that detail, for the time being.
"Oh, well– Todoroki can reheat them, when he gets back, if they're cold by then."
25/12/xxxx ; The late afternoon ; The hall ; Mina Ashido
She didn't mean to eavesdrop, she swore to herself– She'd only been headed to the bathroom, when she'd overheard Izuku mentioning something about how much he loved something. And Mina, being the occasionally less-than-polite person that she was, couldn't help but to stick around, pressing her back to the wall and listening to two boys, around the corner.
"I'm glad– I wanted to make sure that my gift for you was special." She could tell that that was the deeper voice of Shouto, albeit uncharacteristically warm. And maybe Mina was somewhat upset that she didn't have the chance to know whatever the supposed special gift was, but she wasn't going to risk compromising her position in what sounded like a private moment.
"Well, thank you, Todoroki. I... I really appreciate you, y'know."
"And I–" Shouto cut himself off, though, and the pink girl physically recoiled as she realized that now was the moment that he'd finally be attempting a confession. She may not have been the most academically exemplary girl, but she'd been damned if she hadn't noticed every fleeting touch, every shy glance, every missed opportunity that her peppermint peer had suffered through.
She decided to walk away, though, keeping quiet as not to alert the boys. Part of her felt guilty, feeling as if she'd tainted the secrecy of the special interaction.
But as she stepped away, she did catch a quieter, forlorn phrase. "...You're my best friend, Izuku."
30/12/xxxx ; The morning ; Dorm room ; Kyouka Jirou
"The original is a lot less shitty." A certain Katsuki Bakugou commented gruffly, as the plumette experimented with her playlist. At current, she was playing some song called 'Hey There Delilah,' albeit sung in the Japanese that she knew, as opposed to its originally English version.
Kyouka raised a brow, ony briefly letting her attention flit toward the other. "Sure, but none of us can really understand the lyrics." She spoke nonchalantly, pushing herself up to fiddle with one of the speakers that Momo had previously helped her set up.
Katsuki gave his little "Tch," as he turned away, mentioning something about how he had no problem understanding English. And knowing the overachiever, that was likely true, she figured as he left the conversation.
This year, part of class 2-A– and even some 2-B students– had decided that they would be staying at the dorms for the New Year, watching whatever festivities and celebrating behind the safety of their tv. As such, Kyouka, Momo, and an unexpected Katsuki had banded together in lieu of decking out the Heights Alliance, for the upcoming holiday.
They mostly spent time cleaning and setting up a dorm sound system, but if all went well, every second of effort was going to be worth it.
31/12/xxx ; Shortly before midnight ; The commons room ; Izuku Midoriya
His peers had really done well with decorating, Izuku acknowledged for the umpteenth time as he chose his spot beside Ochako. Admittedly, he's been set on confessing for a while now, but never quite found the courage to voice his feelings.
But that was okay, as he gently tapped the brunette on the shoulder– Her cheeks grew rosier than usual when she noticed his outstretched hand, taking it after only a second of overthinking.
Maybe he didn't need words, after all, because he already had a passion in his heart and what seemed to be reciprocated feelings. Their fingers intertwined as the television flashed, counting down to a moment that both anticipated dearly. And Izuku couldn't stifle his shy grin, watching tentatively as Ochako's attention flitted between his face and the brightly-colored screen.
Neither had to say anything. Not now. Not until the rest of the small group cheered "Zero!", and not until they shared a wonderfully perfect kiss.
01/01/xxxx ; Shortly after midnight ; The roof ; Hitoshi Shinsou & Shouto Todoroki
After that, Hitoshi found himself fleeing the scene. Of course, he knew that it was inevitable, but that didn't stop him from hurting as much as he did. He rode the elevator and then climbed the stairs, stopping only once he stood atop the roof.
Shouto couldn't help but trail the plumette up to the top of the building, masking his similar need to escape with curiosity and concern. Considering they were heroes-in-training, it had been unusually easy to do so, to slip out of the room and follow him. Almost concerningly so, as the bicolored boy paused to eye the other's silhouette– To anticipate his next move.
Now, he wasn't stupid. He knew that much as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the roof's railing. Hitoshi glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge the other's presence, sending a silent invitation to join him. With the way that he strode beside him, it was apparent that the youngest Todoroki was reluctant.
But neither had to say anything, for a long time. They simply stood beside one another, gazes focused on the moon or the sky or the city below them. Or maybe even one another. Shouto found comfort in this moment, but he did eventually break away, wanting to allow the plumette to mourn in peace.
But as the other turned, Shinsou reached and gently gripped his forearm. "Hey," his voice was smooth and gentle enough to coax Shouto back, to make him want to return to that moment. And he did, standing closer to his peer, now.
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blankdblank · 4 years
Text
Next Caller Pt 21
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Popping up out of his hastily parked car Frerin stood resting his arms on top of the hood with a worried expression on his face. “I am so sorry. It’s not that far but there was some wicked traffic. Lost track of time listening to the show. You should really give us a warning next time, Bunny got abducted? Seriously?”
In a giggle you replied stepping closer to the car, “I did warn Balin about Holm.”
He shook his head climbing back in as you opened the door to do the same, inside he rumbled back, “You said wait till Holm comes back, nothing about the abduction.”
“Why would I spoil the story?” You replied with a smirk earning a playful glare from him.
“True. No doubt Thorin’s tried to weasel details out of you.”
“Surprisingly no. Mal has. Has he always been after the mysteries of the world? He’s certainly been after mine.”
Frerin smirked shifting gears, “Depends on the mystery. You are intriguing to say the least.” One last glance your way and he said, “Off to the post office.”
“Hopefully they’ll be able to get it there reasonably soon without wanting my leg for it.”
“If you need some cash-,”
You shook your head, “Just a preference. Got paid Saturday I have the funds for it.”
“Lindon shouldn’t be that expensive. Even to overnight.”
“I don’t need it over nighted. Might end up just paying for it any ways just to surprise them. Rarely get to send stuff their way.”
“I am certain they will love it. If you don’t mind my asking, you get paid from the hotel or the radio show?”
“Hotel, haven’t gotten a monthly check from the show yet.”
“How much do they pay you at the hotel?”
“I make a respectable 18 an hour, just under 4k a month post taxes. Four lovely gold coins to pocket.”
“Not bad.”
“Yes, and don’t you go telling them to give me more.”
Lowly he chuckled and replied, “I promise. How about the radio show?”
“Why?”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
With a sigh you said, “When the show started the old owner gave me a raise to 5k a week.”
“A week?! Wow. The new owners uphold that?”
“They gave me an even bigger raise.”
Pulling into the lot he parked and shifted to look at you asking with a curious smirk, “How much bigger? Between us.”
Rolling your eyes you said, “35k a month.”
Lowly he laughed and smiled at you saying, “I’ll come in with you. I am glad you are getting decent pay finally up to your level.”
“If the show lasts a year I could pay off the house and then some.” Deepening his smirk and making him pat your hand resting on the armrest between you, “But I think even if the show does get cut for some reason looks like Gorgo’s deal for the Bunny book could be up soon. Always offers that could pop up around that.”
His hand retracted as you opened your door and climbed out signaling him to do the same and say under his hair blown into his face as you held your own, “I highly doubt they would ever cut the show. What reason could they have?”
You shrugged saying, “I’ve worked on tv shows before and they got cut for no reason and they were top in the market. Just happens sometimes. Never know.”
At your side he strolled with you keeping a hand on your side at the first hint of your sliding from the heavy winds. And through the door you joined the few people waiting in line for the shipping office. Looking through the display boxes you chose a bubble wrapped set of bags and brought out a pen from your satchel to fill out the address sheets. One for Cirdan’s journals and the other for your mother and sisters to go with the shirt for Cirdan to fill the bag complete with letters and pictures you had printed out for them. Fully sealed and assembled by the time you got to the front of the line you flashed a grin to the Dwarf who moved to the monitor at the Hobbit sized section of counter.
“Hi,”
With a chuckle he replied, “Hello. Enjoying your morning?”
“Oh ya, lucky I got my anchoring buddy or I’d blow away.” Making him chuckle again.
“Supposed to be blustery all week. Should stop before the Garden Furtwist festival.”
“Yup.”
“For regular shipping it will be 25 and for overnight it’ll be 21 or a copper coin.”
Your brows furrowed a moment, “How is overnight cheaper?”
“Got a deal going.”
You nodded and said, “Overnight guess.” From your coin purse in your bag you pulled out a copper coin and set it into his palm that he added to the till and passed off the packages to the teen in the back who flashed you both a grin.
A receipt was handed your way and he said, “Enjoy your day and stay safe out there little Lass.”
“Thank you, same to you, big sir.” Your response making him chuckle and watch you and Frerin slip past a couple entering behind you huffing in their recovery from the winds.
With a hand on your back again he readied himself to take both of your weight, not that you were anything close to heavy thanks to your Elf side but he wanted to make sure you weren’t caught off guard. The heavy door swung in at your slight tug and flattening on your back his hand guided you back to his car while you held to your hair and bag until he had you back on the car and hurried around to climb in himself. Once inside his head turned to you at your pitifully muffled giggle and with his hair half flipped up he asked, “You’re not laughing at my hair, are you?”
Shaking your head he smirked at your facing the window away from him still curling your fingers in front of your mouth losing the battle to keep from laughing. Lowly he muttered, “Good. Didn’t think so.” Backing out of his spot to make the three minute trip to the tea shop.
All the while he kept glancing your way holding his smirk in raking his fingers through his hair to lay it back again. Every light of so he would catch your own fingers in their process of tying your hair into a lazy braid over your shoulder you tied off with the band on your wrist. Once parked he hopped out and hurried around to help you out and around the car in the essential funnel of wind increasing the struggle of opening the back door again he finally opened and hurried you through to jump in himself and mutter a curse at the door that slammed right behind him hitting his elbow in the process. The sound had the Durins already inside turn at the sound only to see his helping to straighten your flannel that slid off one of your shoulders as you pulled your braid from around your neck where the wind had whipped it.
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The sight might have been amusing but with a heated stare Thorin’s eyes landed directly just above your cleavage where his token lit up as you passed under a lantern. When your eyes landed on him however he forced a grin and stepped back to focus on the customer at the counter who had finally made up their mind while you adjusted your tank top over your bra again straightening it. Past Balin you strolled at Frerin’s next pat on your back, “I’ll order your drink, just pick your seat.”
You nodded and exhaled sharply to calm the lingering nerves from the harsh winds as Balin said, “Quite a day.”
“Yes it is. Hell of a wind.”
Dwalin however joined you for your walk to your usual tall table saying, “That, and the fact that Bunny got abducted.” To yourself you giggled setting your bag on the table in your hop up onto the seat amusing Frerin in his glance over at your chosen perch. Dwalin’s arms crossed on the counter, “Bunny make it out ok?”
Smirking at his rumbled question you replied, “Don’t know, we’ll have to wait and see. Won’t we?”
At that he groaned and you giggled again in his pull back to the counter to help Thorin, waiting until his cousin could comment on the trinket before he was traditionally allowed to bring it up. Into your bag you reached pulling out your journal with your decoration sketches along with the latest pair of magazines you started to flip through.
At the counter Frerin sighed leaning on the counter saying, “My usual and her surprise. That wind, you really should get those hedges it really just funnels through there. How did you even get in?”
Balin chuckled saying, “Front door.”
Dwalin, “We’ll look into it. Wind slow you down?”
Frerin, “Stopped at the post office. She wanted to mail off her family gifts.” Over his shoulder he spotted more people entering to escape the wind and made his way to the table smirking as he walked around to sit by you noticing what you were looking at. In a low rumbling purr he asked, “See anything you like?” Reaching over he pulled the journal closer to flip through until he saw the tables Thorin had mentioned.
“This one seemed better in the adds. It’s all modern style. It’s all the same stuff in different colors.” You said closing it to set aside and look in the second you eyed the front page then flipped through and set aside with a huff, “And this one’s all floral prints. I may be old but I’m not up there enough for a gran’s cottage theme.”
Lowly he chuckled hen turned the book asking, “These your next purchase?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Well, I haven’t bought you anything yet.” Your brow inched up and he smirked, “So if you wanted, I could buy them for you.”
“That desk alone is two grand.”
With a smirk he said, “I have a suggestion about your table dilemma. Why don’t you slip me the details on what you want, I’ll buy them,” Your lips part and he lifts a finger, “And you can be very cross with me for having done so as my own housewarming gift.” Your eyes narrowed at him and he hummed, “You could just, leave the details in the open, how could you know I would be so stealthy.”
“You and your brother are incorrigible you know.”
“Oh come on, I hardly ever get to shop. It’s my day off, let me shop for you.” Rolling your eyes you took the book back and flipped to a page on the back for that room you tapped next to three items then looked to the floral magazine again. Grinning to himself he took out his phone pointing to the three items he snapped a picture of the item numbers, website to order from and color code you wanted before easing the page back to a sketch of a room and slid the book back like he hadn’t done anything at all making you shake your head. Tapping his finger on the page he said, “Our Gran has that table.”
“I rest my case.” You said turning the page before saying, “That window setting looks kinda nice. Wouldn’t work with mine though.” Turning the page again you said, “Ooh, nice lamp.”
Making him smirk as you drew a star with your pen by it. “It is nice.”
Thorin came up and eyed the magazine saying, “More inspiration?”
You looked up flashing him a grin and pulled out your phone to snap a picture of your drink, “Ya, though it’s more your Gran’s style than mine. Other one is more modern. Might work for your place.”
“We don’t need furniture,” he rumbled back then eyed your necklace saying, “I’m glad you like it, the necklace.”
“Thank you, yes. It’s really gorgeous. Nice and simple too, never got used to too much dangling and things to get caught in my hair when I sleep.”
Making him smirk, “Well I couldn’t let you leave empty handed for yourself.” Into his pocket he reached and brought out a supply of fish style key chains on a loop he passed to you making your lips part, “I didn’t forget. One of each kind you don’t have yet.”
“So adorable. Thank you. Kept thinking of what Findis might use,” Making the pair smirk as you started to ramble inspecting the set. “And I thought back to this one we had on the show I used to voice for its a prancing lion but when you clap it roars,” their brows inched up, “So when you lose your keys you can find them,” making the pair chuckle, “But then you can’t take it to golfing or plays or things like that.”
Thorin rumbled back, “I’ll pass the note on. They’re always looking for more ideas.”
Your hand swatted the air, “Oh don’t worry about it’s just a passing thing.”
Frerin said, “Well I’m telling them. If they make one I want one for myself too adorable to pass up.”
“They’re gonna think I’m over stepping.”
They both replied, “No they won’t.”
Dwalin called out, “Only way to overstep is to keep those brilliant ideas to yourself. That’s a mighty pretty necklace you got there.”
Softly you chuckled to yourself and replied, “Thank you. Thorin hid it in my suitcase.”
Thorin, “How else was I supposed to gift it to you without you saying I didn’t have to?”
Frerin, “Which he did.”
Dwalin nodded and you glanced between the pair unable to not notice the stray strips of hair coming loose from Thorin’s bun. Mal had said hair was off limits but watching the hair inch closer and closer to his nose you just wanted to reach out and tug him into the edge of your chair so you could fix his hair. The consequences weren’t disclosed and of course now like a giant red button you were alone with in an empty room his hair was the most tempting part on him. At least for a moment until his arms and chest flexed tightening his shirt at your lingering stare, at his opinion, into his eyes triggering a spreading blush across his cheeks from his pinking ears.
A sip on your drink gave Dwalin the chance to ask, “Big plans today? Past rehearsing for tomorrow I mean?”
“Don’t really rehearse, I don’t know. Watch something animated I suppose while sketching something for a possible ad for the Bunny book. Ecthellion was saying they were possibly going to run one for testing how big the market would be. Not sure if that meant they wanted us to come up with one or not. All the same a few sketches couldn’t hurt.”
Dwalin, “Well you certainly can sketch. No doubt Gorgo would love to see more art on the show and book.”
Frerin’s lips twisted into a smirk and he lowly rumbled, “Perhaps you could settle a dispute. “I think you voice Bunny, while Thorin believes you voice the Countess, Dwalin is torn for Adrianna. Which one of us is right? Because I can’t imagine you being able to pull off one of the Dwarves.”
That made you smirk at him challengingly spreading a smirk on Thorin’s lips he raised his mug to try and mask as you said, “That is just absurd. Can’t believe you would doubt I could pull off a convincing Dwarf voice.”
Dwalin, “I didn’t say that! He said that I said that!” Pointing to Frerin as you took a sip of your own.
Frerin rolled his eyes, “Sure I did. I don’t doubt you could pull her off, I just think with how the show is it would be easiest for you to hold a Hobbit accent.”
“I could understand that reasoning at least. Though all the same, I’m not going to tell you. More fun that way.”
Frerin and Dwalin groaned then asked, “For who?”
Thorin grinned humming out, “I see you’ve found a new mystery.”
You shook your head, “Not a new one.” Again your eyes locked and in the joint sip his adoring gaze deepened.
In lowering your mug you asked, “Busy plans for you all? Perhaps trying to unfold some mysteries of your own?”
Dwalin, “Well Bilbo and I are off to shopping. Frodo got into the jam last night, have to restock.”
“If you ever want homegrown you’re free to my supply if you like.” The offer was timid but the sentimental grin on his face was grateful for the gesture.
Frerin smirked, “I’m doing some shopping myself,” looking you and his brother over, the latter who was still staring at you adoringly while you stole another glance at the open page again in the magazine.
Glancing up at Dwalin you asked, “Was it hard filling your house with Bilbo?”
Dwalin chuckled and shook his head, “You have no idea. Still have three rooms empty.”
“Why haven’t they all shopped for you then?”
Dwalin chuckled again and Frerin said, “Because it’s part of their courtship to work all that out.”
Dwalin said, “We’re deadlocked between the lamp to put in our living room. One he wants heats up something awful and my choice, well it’s heavy as a water buffalo. Not a danger to Frodo mind, however, still deterrent enough for Bilbo.”
“You can’t just get both and put-,”
He pointed at you, “Ah, see, we’ve compromised like that on two couches, a desk and a chaise. Where did you get your dining room table, Bilbo keeps mentioning yours after I told him about it.”
Onto a blank page you wrote the info and tore it out for him, “They have more than a few designs to choose from he might like. A lot of them more complicated than the one I chose.”
Dwalin shook his head, “Sometimes simple is best. He especially loves the creeping vine supports when it grows.”
Thorin looked to Frerin at his claiming your journal again while you turned the page in your magazine, “What are you shopping for?”
Frerin’s eyes darted from his brother to you and back again, “Nothing in particular.”
“I highly doubt you could make it from New Years to Yule with a present and not boast about it.”
Dwalin nearly snorted to keep from laughing and replied, “We could make it. Near to bursting with ample hints in between.”
Frerin smirked wider saying, “Only builds anticipation.”
“So what happens if you anticipate a flat screen but get one of those wobbling dolls instead?”
Dwalin, “Ah, but you don’t give hints to what it is, just how they would take it.”
“Hmm, I suppose I’d have to see it for myself to understand fully.”
Dwalin chuckled, “Yes, you will.”
Another side table was given a star for consideration while Dwalin and Thorin got pulled into their work modes again before you stopped on a patio set of furniture. Turning your head to Frerin he grinned at the sudden gaze his way curious for what you had to say, “I haven’t even looked at my back yard yet.”
“I’m certain if Gloin didn’t show you the yard there isn’t much to show.”
“What if I need a mower? What am I going to do with a yard? I already have the greenhouse.”
A text to Glorfindel was fired off, “Any idea what they might want for the ad?”
Not a few moments later he replied, “I sent them a copy of an old sketch you made of the Countess lighting her pipe. Hope you don’t mind, they did love it.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. I’m glad they did.”
“Ecthellion is already planning on possible merchandise with her image for the station too. Stickers could be managed easily and quickly enough.”
“I do like stickers.”
Frerin smirked saying, “If it’s anything like Dwalin’s it shouldn’t be too troublesome. Good news?”
His eyes shifted to your phone and you nodded, “Glorfindel and Ecthellion sent Gorgo a sketch of the Countess I’d showed them a while back and they’re going to look into getting them on stickers for the station.”
“Ooh, do let us know when you get those in.”
“No doubt the Durins would be getting their own collection.”
“Darn right. We’re all so proud of our distant kin, both by blood and imagination.”
Smirking again you lifted your cup and finished it off only to see Thorin coming over with a refill for you both. News of the stickers rippled around and in the dying of the winds you took that as a sign to head home with a smaller chance of being blown away. Soft goodbyes were traded and out you went to be helped back through the door Frerin held open for you before stepping out himself. Holding the circle of key chains you watched the town shift wondering what would be in this mysterious yard of yours. Again you were parked in your driveway and climbing over your fence you led the way to your front door with him after you curiously wondering why you had fallen silent.
Unlocking the door you turned looking up at him asking, “What’s that face for?” Once inside you closed the door and hung up your bag adding the ring of key chains to a hook by your puffer fish one making him smirk.
He shook his head, “Just curious what’s behind your silence.”
Inhaling you shook your head saying, “Just hoping it doesn’t have more blackberry bushes.” Making him chuckle to himself.
“Let’s go and see, shall we?”
You nodded and wet your lips turning to start the walk through the house spreading his grin seeing a couple more touches you had added to the rooms he had seen in checking chimneys and those he hadn’t. Through the back door you unlocked and opened the breeze seemed to be more managed here and from a short path of arches coated in vines and bluebells creeping up over it parting your lips. Passing that you drew in a breath closing your lips at the tall multicolored flowering bushes lining against the stone wall marking off your yard. Past the wild tufts of colorful flowers you eyed an arch coated with more past a white statue of Yavanna. Down a winding path you eyed all the flowers saying, “Ok, lot of flowers…” This half being the smaller portion behind your greenhouse with a larger half unseen.
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Smirking behind you he said, “Not too bad. Left to be wild few years thought it might be worse.”
“Wonder where the path goes.” You said looking up wondering where the woven branches hanging overhead were coming from. Suddenly there was a break from flowers to green and trees rounding a corner, “Huh,” with your head tilting you eyed the stone steps leading up to another stone wall with an arch through it from the house each plot held to split uses of the land. Eyeing the uneven steps you said, “These need some love,” reaching out in your first step to plant a hand on the tree whose roots were moving the steps.
Frerin’s hand eased around your back to help steady you following you up the steps, “Not half bad. Wonder if you have a hedge trimmer too?”
“Hedge trimmer?” Above the steps you had moved a bit farther then stopped at the sound of a branch shifting turning your head in a moment of panic as to what it could be.
Lowly Frerin said, “That would be your hedge trimmer.”
Around the trunk of another tree you eyed a brown bear on his hind legs standing well over nine feet tall, “Hello,” you said with a quick wave making him blink his honey colored eyes then look to Frerin and back again.
“Hello, I am Smoky. I tend to the hedges in the property.” He blinked again lowering down to move closer with his head tilting looking you over just under a foot away peering down at your face with his pupils expanding and contracting again. “You are Jaqi Pear, I have been informed of your purchase of the property.” His eyes shifted to Frerin, “I am not aware of you.”
Frerin chuckled replying, “I am Frerin Durin, a friend and guest of Miss Pear.”
Smoky looked to you again stating, “I have been informed of your winged companions, I assure you I would not cause any harm to them. I tend the hedges. I do not require sustenance.”
“Belly did mention a bear.” You muttered then replied to him, “Are you solar powered?”
“Yes. I am self sustaining, should I require maintenance I shall inform you directly.”
“Thank you.”
Turning your gaze to the arch again you asked, “What’s through there?”
“That is the clearing, mainly hedges and clover.”
“Lovely,” you said and he turned to show you through the archway while Frerin was holding back his smirk hearing the fluent Khuzdul accent you had that Thorin could have gotten the hint of you being the Countess from. Clearing was right as the slightly hilly remainder of your strip of land was indeed scattered with hedges lining the outer stone walls and shrubs rounded off throughout the thick clover. “It is lovely, thank you for showing me.”
He nodded and turned, “I shall return to my tending. Clouds show signs of rain before dark.”
“Of course.” You said watching him happily bound off before turning to Frerin softly saying, “I wasn’t expecting a bear. Like an actual, bear like Belly said.”
Lowly he chuckled and said, “Dwalin’s is a giant badger. Absolutely terrified Bilbo on their tour of the place, probably why Gloin left it in the packet. They do take a couple days to switch over property owners in their systems. They are incredibly loyal, great guards as well.”
“At least it’s clover, not grass. I can manage clover. Nice and soft, plushy year round.”
“The flowers aren’t bad either, from what I can see they are low maintenance.”
You nodded saying, “Naneth will be pleased about the statue for Yavanna.” A soft rumble overhead had you turning to the house again, “I guess the mini cave home over behind the greenhouse is his.”
He nodded looking it over, “Does seem so.” Behind himself he closed the door and from the archway you spotted Belly dangling asking, “Was there a bear?”
“Yes, he is,” looking to Frerin you asked, “Is there a word for robot?”
To which he stated for you, “Manmade to trim the hedges.”
You nodded saying, “He won’t hurt you. We have quite the yard.”
Belly nodded, “Yes, I shall inform the others, when the rain clears we shall explore it fully Kuu and I. The herd want wind chimes, we shall scout for locations.”
Off he darted and you whispered, “Ok, I missed that last bit, they want cacti?”
“Wind chimes,”
You nodded, “Way more sense than cacti. Had one once, did not go well. Someone put it on the roof.”
To himself he chuckled and asked, “Are you hungry? I can order in and hang out, maybe borrow a computer to do my shopping?”
“Fine, but I’m buying lunch.” You said guiding him to your bedroom where you removed your shoes and grabbed your laptop then guided him to your living room. By your front door he removed his boots then came to lounge on your couch beside you watching you switch on the laptop with a galaxy homepage. The doorbell however had you handing it over once you had opened the browser, “Since when am I popular?” You muttered on your way to the door making him chuckle to himself. From his pocket he brought out the page from you to find the right website and start adding to his cart. Opening the door however your lips parted, “Mal?”
Stepping back in her walk past you she said, “It’s been so long and I haven’t seen your house yet since you painted.”
Narrowing your eyes at her after closing your front door you said, “I thought you said you were busy today.”
“I am, or was. But that’s part of why I dropped by. So, tour first, I can share after.”
Room by room she shared her praise on your work to the house and you said, “I have a bear in the back yard.”
She paused a moment and said, “Ah, the trimmer, Bilbo has a badger, so cute.”
“He’s ten feet tall. Very sweet, if Frerin hadn’t told me what could have been in the yard I’d have scared my neighbors by screaming at the poor sweet thing.”
Smirking again she asked, “I take it it’s his car outside?”
You nodded, “Drove me home.”
To the living room you led her and she looked to Frerin who grinned up at her, “Mal, joining us for lunch?”
She shook her head, “I have to get back and get BamBam, but I wanted to drop by and ask a favor.”
Sitting down you said, “You need a day off?”
She shook her head then said, “Well you know about the Garden Furtwist Festival?”
You nodded, “It’s this weekend.”
Clapping her hands together she said, “Good, then you know about the guidelines?”
Your eyes narrowed, “I do, but why would I need to?”
“Well I’m going, my parents are flying out for it again, we’ve gone the past few years together since I moved out here. And well, the guys are going to be there and I thought that we could bring you.”
“What, you need a chaperone?”
“Well, no, but you’re off and last couple years you said you had to work but now you’re off so you can go. You’re good at talking people up too, and it’d be fun.”
“You sure you don’t want it to be a family thing?”
“No!”
Frerin teased adding the davenport to the cart after having added your desk and table, “Either she takes you or we’ll pick you up for it.”
Looking between them you sighed, “It’s four days away and all I’ve got is what I wore two centuries ago.”
Mal beamed at you, “That’ll be perfect.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
She clapped her hands again and pulled out her buzzing phone saying, “I know you, and it’ll be perfect.” Stepping aside she said, “I’ll let myself out, have fun guys,” pausing a moment she asked Frerin, “With your-,”
Smiling at her he said, “I’m shopping.”
She nodded and looked at you, “It’ll be perfect. See you tomorrow! Can’t wait to see what Bunny does next!” Hurrying to the door that a few moments you heard opened then closed again.
Glancing at Frerin you said, “I can’t wait till I’m courting someone then I get to burst in and demand favors of people bordering on entrapment.”
Lowly he chuckled then replied, “Demand all you like now.” Shifting the laptop to bring out his wallet to add in the card info to complete the payment. “If you like you can show me what you got. I’ll have a badger mask and ears. What type of fairy did you go as?”
“There’s an old tale, she’s called Hópilen,”
His lips parted, “The fairy that hatches from an owl egg. With feathered wings. I bet you were spectacular as her.”
“They gave me a ribbon. Granted I was the only one dressed as her, not hard to win with those odds.”
Closing your laptop he switched off he eased off the couch saying, “Alright, where’s the costume?”
Brushing your bangs back you turned making your way to your closet he followed you into. On the hanging rack you showed him the dress you had used, “it’s not too showy, I know she has a silver and gold dress in the story,”
Frerin shook his head, “That is lovely. Incredibly crafted to last this long.”
“My aunt made it for me for a party long ago. Rarely get to wear it. Kind of casual,” letting it go you moved to the hanging sweaters, cardigans and your few shawls you had ending with a feathered one parting his lips as you brought it down for him to see, “Swan feathers, but I didn’t have Kuu at the time. And I have a headdress too,” you said hanging up the feathered cloak again. “I’ll have to go shoe shopping, the dress is a bit long on me. Aside from that I have a couple gold leaf bracelets and some golden glitter I can get for my painted on mask to finish the look.”
“It’s incredible, what type of shoes do you want?”
Pointing at him you said, “No.” Nodding your head to the side you said, “Come on, I’ll call for lunch and put on a film.”
He smirked saying, “I’ll light the fire.” The whole way to your kitchen you mentally wondered just what this event was going to bring. The fairytale Equinox based event where everyone came in costumes. Hobbits as Fairies, Elves as Foxes, small mammals, fish or birds and Dwarves as their own spirit animals.
Pt 22
@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shesakillerkween
Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​, @jotink78​, @pastelhexmaniac​
x Thorin – @evyiione​, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor​
And thanks to C-s-stars for helping me with the photo collage. Using a few of them from her in a couple coming up :D
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parf-fan · 4 years
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In-house shows have been posted!
As always, the following info is from the Faire’s website.
Queen's Court
Join the Mount Hope Welcoming Committee as they greet Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, at the Globe Stage! See the Queen, enjoy a sampling of the many entertainments available during the day, and learn what lies in store for all visitors to Mount Hope!
[Ah, so they’ve moved it back to the Globe for this year.  Here’s hoping everyone interested in seeing this show is aware of the stage change and doesn’t go sit at Endgame for fifteen minutes wondering where tf the preshow is until they finally look more closely at their daily writ and then say a few choice words along with their best friend as the two of us raced off to the new stage.]
Variety Royale
How can one even begin to pick a favorite act here at Mount Hope? Well Her Majesty aims to do just that. Watch as the festival's performers battle for the title of The Queen's Favorite, and perhaps even more importantly, enough food to feed themselves and their family for a whole week!
[Who needs Chess when you can have a battle of the Humanities department!]
Ultimate Joust
Join Her Majesty and the people of Mount Hope as they preside over the final joust of the day! Strength will be tested, Honor will be challenged, and the very cause of Chivalry hangs in the balance. An explosive fireworks celebration awaits the victorious Knight and their supporters afterward!
[I’d be suspicious of this promise of a “fireworks celebration”, except that I know there are simply logistically not the numbers necessary to stage an attempted insurrection. It may be actual fireworks.]
Disasterpiece Theater 
Years ago, Mount Hope gained a reputation as a testing ground for new and unconventional community theatre. Has it lived up to Sir Walter's lofty goals? Can anything get it back on track? Was it ever on track to begin with? What is a track? Theatre will happen. It might be a Masterpiece, it might be a disaster, but it will always be a Disasterpiece.
[One, thank God. I mean, they’d’ve been daft to cut it, but all the same. Two, Sir Walter was namedropped as a historical figure and that makes me happy. Three,“What is a track?”  The cast this year is not divided by track as they’ve been before! There may not be tracks at all!  This description is fricking clever].
Finale Pub Sing 
End the festival day in joyously boisterous song lead by Demetrius and Friends! Join Her Majesty, Her Court, and the shire folk of Mount Hope as they bid you farewell with songs we all know and love.
[But like,,, its not at a pub, right?  That would be logistically too crowded to be safe rn.]
Music with Her Majesty
Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth enjoys singing her favorite musical selections with a few new Shire friends. Don't miss this royal performance!  [It’s back babyyy!]
Tea Time
Come join the two most in-the-know Courtiers in her Majesty's retinue as they discuss the hottest topics of the day. Gossip is illegal, so they definitely will not be gossiping; but rest assured, Tea shall be served, and if some is spilled, so be it!
[Listen. You can’t just go posting things like that.]
Mags' To Rich's*
She's rich. She's poor. But they both can agree on one thing: dating is hard. Join Mags Cockburn and Lady Rich as they sing about men, love, and …other things. *Contains material not suitable for children.
[Ooooh, Jules is Mags again, but as a Bacch! Coolio. My guess is that Lady Rich will be portrayed by Leigh Ann Hamelin, because music. Might not be, though. Musical ability is not limited to those historically on the music track.] [Also can we talk about this show’s title, ‘cause it’s clever.]
Guts & Glory: A Scottish Cooking Demo
Join Scottish Ambassador, Argyle Douglas, as he weaves comedy and storytelling into a cooking demonstration of Scotland's most famous dish, Haggis. This exhibition features an authentic Scottish "plushie" sheep happily providing authentic "plushie" organs thus enabling everyone to savour the experience without any worries about "nasty bits".  This show is fun for the whole Family (bring your children, your grandmother, your dog).
[why...why is “plushie” in quotation marks. what are they implying.]
A Whole Experience* 
Join Abe Froman, The Sausage King, and Argyle Douglas, Scottish Ambassador, as they wax poetic about the merry mix-ups in which mature couples find themselves. The Battle for Understanding, Is Compromise Truly Worthwhile in the Long-run?, When Honesty is not the Best Policy, are just the tip of the ice-burg of topics discussed. Ultimately, this show is a celebration of being human and the foibles that come with that condition. Come prepared to laugh and share in "A Whole Experience"!  *Contains material not suitable for children.
[Strictly speaking, this show sounds less like a celebration of being human and more like a celebration of being an alloromantic allosexual human in an érosish relationship, but that could be false advertising.]
And finally, neither listed last nor remotely least....
Whose Jest Is It Anyway?
Just because the Queen is on the Shire doesn't mean the people of Mount Hope need to take themselves seriously all day! Come join the shire folk as they engage in some games of Wit, Hilarity, and Downright Silliness; all based on suggestions from the audience, so every show is different! Here are some testimonials from real audience members: • "I laughed until I stopped!" - Bern D'bread, Baker • "Seriously, whose jest is it? They never answer that blasted question!" - Yuri Gnollcakes, Privy Attendant • "I took an afternoon off inventing to watch 'Whose Jest…?' My brain is now so dead I'll never invent again!" - Leonardo Da Vinci, Early Renaissance Man • "Bridget!" - Bridget Moorhouse, Lat Master of Revels
[FUCK YEAH IT’S BAAAAACK!!!!!  I’ve been waiting years for this!  Granted, that waiting has been much more congenial since I discovered Friday Knight Improv and since they added improv track shows to the Faire day, but I have nevertheless been waiting for this for years!]
[But more important than that, I want to discuss the final testimonial there.  You’ll notice that there appears to be a typo in attributing the quote, beyond just missing the middle ‘e’ from Moorehouse.  There’s a missing letter from the modifier of the title.  It says “Lat”.  Now, while it turns out that “lat” is, in fact, a word, I very much doubt that they are attempting to define Bridget as a former silver coin of Latvia equal to 100 santimi.  No, there are two words that it could be.  One, it could be missing an ‘e’, making the word “late”.  On the outside, that seems reasonable enough; Bridget was in her prime in 1520 and this season takes place sometime after 1558.  But there is yet another option.  The missing letter could be an ‘s’, making the intended word “last”.  The last Master of Revels.  As in: Mount Hope has not had a Master of Revels since Bridget?  Or as in: there is no Master of Revels after Bridget because Bridget is still the Master of Revels and will always be the Master of Revels even unto the ending of the world, for Bridget is forever, possibly Eldritch, a force of pure chaos, unending and unchanging, Eternal.
This is one typo I hope they never fix.]
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marshmallow-phd · 5 years
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Secret in His Eyes
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Spinoff of Sins of the Father
Genre: Mafia Au
Pairing: Luhan x Reader
Summary: A vacation exploring China’s famous city was supposed to be relaxing. When you witness a horrifying murder, you instead find yourself in police custody, unable to run. Trying to stay alive, you meet Luhan, and you believe you can trust him. You never imagined that he might be the one you should be running from.
Part: Prologue I 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I Final
**
This city was beautiful. The touristy parts, anyway. You were sure that – like every other city in the world – Beijing had its ugly scars, too. But you stayed in the areas that all the brochures and websites bragged about, saving you from having to see those not-so-shiny places.
You’d been saving up for this trip for the past year and a half. All your life you wanted to experience just one place new. Then you’d be perfectly content going back to your ordinary life with your office job. Or maybe this trip would just make you eager for the next one. It was kind of a toss up at this point in your youth. But you wouldn’t worry about whether or not you could be content with your boring routine until you were back home. For now, you’d continue exploring, taking in the beautiful, ancient architecture that was so unique to the region, visiting the art and history museums to learn more about what you were seeing, and trying all the street food you could get your hands on. Your main focus was to take in all that you could and not forget a single moment.
When you’d first arrived in Beijing, a nauseated feeling had bubbled up in your stomach. You were in foreign territory, completely on your own, with very little knowledge on how to navigate this roaring city. The feeling refused to die down as you checked into your hotel and searched the maps you’d been given by the front desk worker for something to eat. Even with as exhausted as you were from traveling, sleep didn’t come easy. By some miracle, however, you woke up the next morning much more at ease with your surroundings. Still nervous about getting lost or accidentally offending someone, but it wasn’t as threatening a feeling as it had been before. Going throughout your day, you nearly forgot all about your worries, too absorbed in your findings to pay attention to it.
By day three, you were practically a local. It was so magical, each new finding, that you couldn’t believe this was truly your reality, like soon you’d wake up to find it was all a dream.
“Oh, back again?”
You blushed as you bobbed your head in greeting. There was one vendor in the market place near your hotel that you kept coming back to. A mother and daughter team sold the most delicious baozi you’d ever tasted. Granted, your experience was limited to a few blocks, but it was a common street food and none compared to this dynamic duo’s. While the mother didn’t speak English, you were able to communicate with the daughter well enough.
“It’s my favorite treat,” you admitted shyly. The daughter waived you closer before pulling out two steaming, fresh buns, wrapping them carefully before holding them out to you. When you started to pull out your wallet, she shook her head. “No. These are just for you. Since you like them so much.”
You pursed your lips. “That doesn’t feel right.”
“You’ve been a loyal customer,” she laughed. “It’s the least we could do! However,” she rounded the cart, coming up close to you as she lowered her voice, “tonight is the Shangyuan Festival. My mother will be staying in, but if you would like to join me to make her happy that I won’t be alone, we’ll consider that payment.”
It still didn’t seem fair, but you laughed anyway. “Yes, of course!” You’d noticed the streets being decorated with paper lanterns since your arrival – some were the traditional round red ones you were used to, but others were shaped like flowers and animals, beautifully crafted and painted, making you stare in awe. “It’d be nice to have someone show me the festival.”
“Good! It’s settled then. We will close before the sun sets, so meet me here then. We’ll walk my mother home and then I will show you the festival!”
You nodded eagerly. Before parting so you could hurry to your other planned activities for the afternoon, you finally learned the daughter’s name: Shishi. It was cute and not something you’d really heard before.
The afternoon hours seemed to fly by and before you knew it, the sun was beginning to disappear from the sky. As quickly as you could, you ran back to the stall, careful not to ram anyone down in the process. Shishi was still waiting for you patiently, her mother shaking her head at you in a scolding manner.
“I’m so sorry,” you huffed, half doubled over from your exhausting sprint.
“It’s okay,” Shishi laughed at you. “Let’s get Mother home and then we’ll attend the festival.”
You nodded and stepped back for her to lead the way. Their home wasn’t too far from the stall and once Shishi saw her mother inside, the two of you took off towards another district in the city where a big crowd had gathered near the Chaobai River.
Lanterns of all shapes and sizes hung from nearly ever ledge. Children ran around the streets while carrying sticks that held small paper fish on the ends of strings, making it looking like schools of fish were swimming through the air. Different sweet scents drifted up to your nose, making your mouth water.
Perhaps seeing that ravenous look in your eye, Shishi pulled you over to one of the vendors, getting each of you one of those sugar coated sweets made by the true experts of the trade. The artists didn’t have fancy, expensive culinary schooling; they simply had tradition and a love for the for food.
You continued to walk along the street in order to take in all the sights happening around you. This was the reason you’d come to the beautiful city of Beijing. The joy and laughter around you was infectious and you felt as if you were on the receiving end of a precious gift. All the pictures and blogs in the world couldn’t truly capture the feeling, the essence of the festival and the deep rooted traditions happening before your very eyes. No matter what happened to you on this trip, you knew tonight would be something that you would never forget.
**
Luhan leaned back in his chair and waited rather impatiently for the underling to arrive. It was ten minutes past the time he was told to be here and Luhan was losing his patience.
For the past month, he’d had a man inside the main police department of Beijing and he needed his updates. Lately, the cops had been one step ahead of him while conducting his deals, putting several of his suppliers behind bars and ruining his business. His own customers were getting antsy, hence why he needed the information to squash the rat.
Leaning up against the wall to his right, Kris chewed on a toothpick between his teeth. “I thought he was supposed to be here by now.”
“Unfortunately, Xiaofei isn’t known for his punctuality,” Luhan huffed. He picked up the glass ball he kept on his desk and inspected it, although there was nothing wrong with the small paperweight. In the low lighting of his office, he could only make out a faint shadow on the smooth glass rather than his reflection. The small globe was almost completely see-through except for the etched continents covering the surface. While he couldn’t quite say that he held the world in his hands, the little globe gave him a sense of accomplishment, even when things went a little askew.
“I still think we should have sent someone else,” Tao whined from the couch. He was staring up at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head for a pillow as he reclined on his back. His suit jacket was draped across the back of the couch to save it from wrinkling.
Luhan rolled his eyes. He was tired of having this conversation over and over again. “Xiaofei already had connections within the office, I’ve told you that. Plus, he’d be able to blend better than most.”
There weren’t many people in the world Luhan could trust, the top two being in this room. Everyone who worked for him was under constant surveillance and he occasionally had to clean out the filth with little crumbs of fake information. It was how he survived all these years. The Chinese underworld was ruthless. He hardly had a moment where he wasn’t watching his back.
Just then, the door to the office creaked open. Tao sat up, eyeing the crack that wasn’t quite big enough to let a human through while Luhan placed the globe back down on the desk with a heavy thump. The vaguest outline of a shadow, visible against the white door frame, flinched at the sound. Luhan could practically smell the stench of fear radiating off of the underling from his seat.
Picking up his feet and placing them back down on the floor, Luhan growled, “Just come in before I lose my patience and shoot you through the door.”
That little threat did the trick. Xiaofei scurried inside the office, closing the door behind him with a sound that was halfway between a click and a slam. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as if he was trying to keep the contents of his stomach from spilling out onto the rug. The police uniform Xiaofei had been given was wrinkled and half untucked. Were his men really such slobs?
Clearing his throat, Xiaofei straightened up and then bowed at a ninety-degree angle. He was putting on a brave front, they all knew. And Luhan would let him play his little act.
“Sir, I have not been able to find the leak within the department as of yet.” The voice that left Xiaofei’s mouth didn’t match the round, burly face he was born with. It was of a higher pitch, not fit for his age. The face that Luhan imaged the voice belonging to was one of a rat, pointed and sharp, all the features focused in on the center. It was a face that fit Xiaofei’s character much more closely.
“Did you even really try?” Tao spat. His dark eyes were narrowed at the underling. He was not one to take kindly to a lack of results.
“Y-yes, sir,” Xiaofei bowed quickly to the silver-haired boss. “The department is very tight-lipped. They don’t take too kindly to new faces. It’ll take me another few months to get them to trust me.”
“We don’t have another few months,” Kris snarled, flicking the toothpick at the trembling man. The little piece of wood stuck to Xiaofei’s shoulder, but he made no attempt to brush it away, accepting the small but humiliating action.
Luhan let out a long sigh in order to make his displeasure known in a much more subtle manner. “Xiaofei.” The man flinched at the sound of his name even though Luhan didn’t raise his voice above a causal level. “Before I sent you in there, you swore to me that you had connections inside. Now, that wasn’t a lie, was it?”
“No, sir, I swear!” Xiaofei staggered on his feet as he tried to plead for his life. As soon as Luhan stood, the coward fell to his knees in a showy sign of respect. “My connections are good. It’ll just take a little more time. Please. I will find the leak. I swear it.”
Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, Luhan bent down and stared Xiaofei down. “You have one month left. I suggest you bring me back something viable at the end of that time frame. If you don’t, then you’ll be replaced.” Letting him go with a forceful shove, Luhan headed for the door. He only paused long enough to give one last warning. “I like to think of this organization as a well-oiled, well-maintenanced machine. The only way to keep it working is to upgrade the parts that have become useless. And there’s only one thing to do with useless parts, isn’t there?”
Though Xiaofei didn’t look back at Luhan, the shiver that ran down his spine and shook his shoulders was visible enough proof that the message had been received. With confident steps, Luhan glided down the hall of the mansion he called home. Soon, he would find out who was undermining his operations and he would make sure they regretted ever going up against The Deer before he ended their life for good.
**
Your feet were aching and throbbing, but you still weren’t ready to go home for the night. Stuffed full of delicious street food made only during this special time, you continued to follow Shishi through the crowds, stopping every once in a while to watch a choreographed dance by a group of performers ora magic show put on by a man you suspected might be tricking the audience in more ways than one.
The stars above were beginning to come alive for the night, adding to the mystical atmosphere. Only the strongest were able to be made out against the fading backdrop thanks to the stronger lights of the city. It made you a little sad, not being able to see a sky full of twinkling stars, but you pushed that emotion away, preferring to focus on the happier commotion around you.
However, when you brought your eyes back to the festival, Shishi was gone. You whirled around several times, but you couldn’t find her. Over and over, you called out, but no reply was ever sent back your way. Frantically, you shoved through the crowd. Had something happened to her? Or had you simply been separated? It was your own fault for dawdling and not paying attention. Panic was starting to set in. Until you saw a familiar bun of black hair resting on top of a head that was about Shishi’s height.
You followed the bun through the crowd until the owner disappeared into an alleyway. She took a few more twists and turns before you finally caught up to her, grabbing her shoulder in relief.
“Shishi!”
When she turned around, however, you were frustrated to find that it wasn’t your friend, but a stranger you’d never seen before. She threw you a snarled look even as you bowed out an apology over and over again. Soon you were alone again and utterly lost. The only light to see by came from the more occupied main streets, but you weren’t sure which one you should head towards to try and find your way back. Every direction looked the same. You cursed yourself for not paying more attention the further you got from the main street.  
Crash!
You jumped back against the brick wall, collapsing down to hide in the shadow of a dumpster when you saw a man fall to the cracking asphalt, his head bouncing off the ground as he landed hard on his back. Even in the dim light, you could make out a stream of blood running down from his nose and over his lips before dripping off his chin. When another man stepped into your line of vision, you shrank farther back, practically melding with the grime-covered trash bin.
The man who was still standing pulled out a gun and pointed it down at the one on the ground. As if knowing that his end was near, the first man simply groaned and turned his face upwards towards the sky. The man with the gun chuckled and began speaking in Mandarin. You couldn’t understand a majority of the words leaving his mouth, but one word did stick out to you: Lu. He repeated it a few times, mixed around in sentences that you couldn’t make out.
Then he shot the man on the ground, the bullet slicing through his forehead.
You couldn’t stop the gasp that your shock and horror forced out. Immediately, you slapped a hand over your mouth, praying that he hadn’t heard you. Seeing that there was just enough space between the wall and the dumpster, you scrambled to better hide yourself, hoping that you weren’t simply jumping into the barrel for an easier target.
Footsteps slowly headed in your direction, crackling the loose pebbles under his shoes with each step. You squeezed your eyes shut and sent up a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening. And apparently, someone was.
Sirens blared from a street close by. You barely caught the man disappearing around the corner when you risked opening your eyes. Slowly, you crawled out from behind the dumpster. Your hand landed warm and sticky, making you jump back with a scream when you realized it was blood pooling out from the dead man’s head.
Two new voices shouted and you threw your hands up to show you were unarmed. A bright light made you squint and you couldn’t tell who was approaching you, but you hoped it was the police. The light finally lowered. You let out a sigh of relief. The two officers lowered their guns and exchanged dumbfounded looks.
You had no idea what kind of mess you’d stumbled into.
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popculturebuffet · 4 years
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Jake Reviews Stuff: Close Enough: Logans Run’d and Room Parents
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IT’S FINALLY HERE, PERFORMING FOR YOU. Seriously I have waited 3 years for this. And while yes thanks to a combination of a french animation festival and HBO’s own oopsie doodle I was able to watch 3 episodes already, and review them, it dosen’t make this any less sweet.  The fandom can finally come togehter as a whole and enjoy the hell out of the series. And doubling my excitment is the fact that HBO Max dropped 15 episodes! 14 episodes bundled into half hours and one extra long episode that seems to feature one of the greatest musicans and comedians of all-time, a man who needs no introduction but hell if i’m not giving him one. WEIRD, AL, YANKOVIC!
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I could not be more excited if I tried. And yes that’s with full awarness my pre-amphibia and owl house workload just became at LEAST 4 times what I expected and this may be all there is. Having to review 12 episodes still means getting to WATCH 12 episodes of a show I truly adore. It’s an easy trade off. So with that out of the way, we can dig into close enough’s second two episodes and see if the show can keep the momentum from the first pair! Door’s open, let’s do this! The full review and spoilers under the cut. 
Logans Run’d   With Candace having her first sleepover Josh and Emily (Who apparently aren’t on good enough terms with their parents to have them watch her something I hope they explore later in the series), have their first Candace free evening and spend it as you’d expect for a 35 year old couple: Pelvic thrusting to turn down to what while doing general errrands then planning to have a nice night in of tea and the great british baking show, which continues this show’s hard to get used to trend of using actual brand names.  The two invite Bridgette to join them which she scoffs at saying the pair, and Alex who is not only delighted to join them but is in an old timey sleeping costume with listening horn which, no joke, is his profile picture on the show’s website, which feels perfect honestly and I love everything about that. 
The three soon realize to their horror through flashback that they indeed are old (Hilariously alex’s is literally just his introduction in this episode), and beg Bridgette to take them along to a club, Logan’s Run’d. What follows is the three of them getting hard core drunk all the way to 9PM while  Bridgette flirts with a younger guy and youtube sensation and who looks like the earth 3 version of hank venture.. until it turns out he’s actually a toddler wearing some sort of robot suit because of course.  Things go south however both as our heroes realize their running out of steam.. and as another 30 something is made VIP>.. which in this club is being murdered to death by a giant fan. With blood which I”m sure JG was giddy to do first chance it was approriate given he did 8 years of a show on a children’s network and children’s networks hate blood as much as they hate actually letting shows mention the concept of death directly by name.  Naturally the four of them want to book it out of there: While Bridgette , if she wasn’t lying about her age to the toddler, isn’t in the danger zone, she still just hit on a toddler and is naturally afraid of going to prison, but get stopped by the bar guy. Alex, in a supremeley sad yet badass moment, pulls out his blockbuster card and prepares to sacrifice himself for his friend’s sake: Partly because he cares about them and candace and partly because he’s worried he has nothing left to live for now he’s old, something I myself worry about going into my 30′s next year. Josh (Emily takes a second to join in) rushes to save his best bud and the two reassure Alex he has a future, a future of not having to get new music, of having nights of just relaxing and watching tv and getting pepper in your beard for , as Alex puts it “That george clooney look” Bridgette was the last one and guards her friends from being murdered for obvious reasons before breaking the fan.  Our heroes are saved, alex and me honestly as all of that sounds really appealing to be honest and I live 2/3 of it already, are convinced that growing old is pretty sweet. Oh and the owner turns out to be an old guy, as Alex realizes when he refrences logans run and is murdered by the crowd. Our heroes enjoy pancakes, Bridgette still finds the guy cute which.. no no bridgette just no, and Alex muses about them having seen a man die.  Final Thoughts: A decent episode.. while not as good as 100% no stress day ahead of it or the previous episode, i’ts a simple episode with good gags, an utterly great character moment for Alex which shows that despite his weirdo exterior he’s a damn good guy and he has something to live for. Also the toddler subplot was stupid and kinda creepy. A decent gag filled episode withs ome great ones and some really good animation. Also the opening is utterly iconic, easily one of the shows best jokes so far and probably in total and still works despite the use of turn down for what being slightly dated, but it works because it’s just really damn funny. Not the series best thus far but it’s still okay if a standard episode is this enjoyable. 
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Room Parents: Now this is the good shit. It’s parent meeting time at Candace’s school with Me Daughter Teacher having one last announcment while Josh is about to pass out from having to hold in 3 powerades... dude should’ve gone for gatorade.. it still goes through you it just tastes objectivley better. Anyways me Daughter Teacher locks the room for the announcment because he needs a room parent and things quickly turn to purge as everyone is either fleeing or trying to murder each other to avoid it. While i’m not a parent, I can at leat understand not wanting to give time to do this when your schedule is likely already a hellscape. Josh (Who wonders if they got a purge going, got a good laugh out of me. ), being basically what if Mr. Peanutbutter had an illigitmate son he dind’t know about, and i’m still not convinced he’s not his dad until the show proves otherwise, happily volunteers to Emily’s horror.  Josh however.. is entirely game. He even makes a dad joke calling it a “Fun Raiser” to emily’s annoyance. It’s a nice show of just HOW opposite the two are: Emily being more stressed, as 100% stress day proved/will prove given it’s after this episode even though i’ve already seen it but it’s set later but...
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The point is she’s a ball of stress while he’s a ball of enthusasim just like his dad, who i’m now just.. 100% convinced is his dad and dosen’t know it. Prove me wrong. Anyways Josh meets Nikki another parent whose own son is ominously framed in shadow because of course something weird about her who offers to pitch in.. and is also transparently intrested in josh.  The next day Josh and nikki talk on the phone and Bridgette and Alex instantly pick up that she’s into him and that josh is the kind of guy every girl wants, with Bridgette sighting the look when he inhales mustard and Alex, being the objectivley best, citing his thin papery jack of clubs body type. I’m now 100% convinced they all had a foursome at some point before the divorce which Emily tries not to think about and Emily isn’t convinced.. until Josh, in another great gag, says Nikki said “wash your balls, so random”.  Emily, now panicked, enlists Pearle who gladly volunteers her spy van, because Pearle is also objectivity the best, to go spy on alex in a montage set to heart’s crazy on you were we get our image for this episode which is a great gag.. especailly Emily mouthing “Wait afterwords’ and it being followed by them going to the sex hotel.. which is actually the essex hotel.. which is for affairs as it’s sign says. It’s hard not to just list gags for this show because it’s damn good but i’ll try.  Emily then confronts Josh that night (doing the dramatic light turning on thing by holding the lamp another great gag), and Josh explains no he’s not cheating on her because he’s a pure boy, and he aquises to her, also finally realizing Nikki’s been transparently trying to seduce him.  Naturally their attempt to uncoroomparenther before the Fundraiser goes pear shaped as it turns out Nikki is a con artist who pulls what professionals call a josh , scam a stressed parent, tie him up or kill him and then steal the fundraiser money for a school, for a living (She has another one cooking at the moment) and leaves them. Emily orders a knife via a delivery service, while a waiting Pearle wonders where they are.. which raises a lot of questions. WHy pearle is there is easy, she’s supporting Candace and her friends/tennants. That part is easy. Why she brought Randy, who at least at this point is objectively useless and why Alex and BRidgette AREN’T there I can’t explain. Maybe mecha pope garfield rose from the grave. Maybe Bridgette’s fucking that clown again. Maybe Alex has more garifled theroies to bust out. Actually those last two answer my question for me.. I mean someome’s gotta reveal Garfield was a founding member of the Justice Society of America. 
Our heroes arrive however to Foil Nikki , who thent ries to escape on a children’s train.. which being a children’s train Josh and Emily just hop on and in a hilarious bit slowly remove the kids before ending up with Candace, who says “daddy’s girlfriend is getting away”. Jessica DiCiccio is a delight as Candace and her delivery is impecable here. However Nikki switches tracks and cranks up the speed. Thankfully while Emily and Candace fall off the train pearle and Randy, who I STILL don’t know why he’s in this episode he has no lines and does nothing, catch them, leaving it to Josh to fix his mess. After a breif fight and a nut shot Josh sucesfully swaps the money for Nikki’s fake son/dummy who she chokes bart style before both explodes when they hit a thermometor factory.  Our heroes win, the fundraiser is a sucess and the teachers have elected Josh room parent for life (”That can’t be legally binding” “IT’S LEGALLY BINDING!”)  Final Thoughts: A great , really damn funny episode with a great premise. While Emily being worried Josh would cheat seems weird given he’s a nice enough guy, it’s sometimes understandable to be panicky about that sort of thing and her worry is warnated given one party is trying to seduce her husband, josh is just too stupid to realize, which makes for a lot of great gags. It’s a really tighly done episode that like the above is more pure comedy and just hilarious, but has even better jokes and a much better executed premise to work with. And no weird toddler things. So overally a slam dunk.  I have more close enough reviews coming today, obviously though i’d rather watch the rest before reviewing them, but while I do you can shoot me an ask to talk more close enough, and in more serious matters... One of my best friend’s cat’s cancer has come back and being out of work and just having moved into a new appartment, he needs help paying for it. You can find the go fund me here.  And as always until we meet again, later days. 
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letterboxd · 5 years
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The Last Artists.
“From the outside it seems like this dream scenario… but the truth is it took years working on drafts and wondering if anyone would ever read them.” —Joe Talbot on The Last Black Man in San Francisco.
A love story to San Francisco, to one grand Victorian house in particular, and to a life-long friendship, The Last Black Man in San Francisco was many years in the making. And it paid off: Joe Talbot picked up the Best Director prize at Sundance 2019 for his debut feature, a story drawn from the life of his best friend (and the film’s leading man), Jimmie Fails. A close-knit family of creatives grew around the project, and became a vital support system for Talbot when his father had a stroke just weeks before the shoot. Since January, critical accolades for the film have snowballed. Most recently, it appeared in our ten highest-rated features for the first half of 2019.
Letterboxd reporter Jack Moulton took the opportunity for a lengthy chat with Talbot about his remarkable debut feature. The interview contains a virtual masterclass in first-time feature film development (and the persistence required to see it through), along with some never-before-seen images shared exclusively with us by Joe. Also: some plot spoilers, which we’ve left until the very end.
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Joe Talbot and Jimmie Fails in 2014, photographed by Talbot’s brother, Nat Talbot.
Thanks for agreeing to a good chat with us. Are you on Letterboxd? We have our suspicions that you might be. Joe Talbot: Yeah. I love it. I found Letterboxd before we shot the movie. I use it to save movies to watch for later and look up movies people recommend. Occasionally I read the reviews of films I’ve just watched, they’re often really thoughtful.
Can we share your username? You could be the next Sean Baker. The one I have right now is more of a lurking profile so it’s not very formal. I made one that’s a little more presentable for you under my name.
Are you in San Francisco right now? I am. If you can hear my heavy breathing, I’m actually walking up one of the steeper hills that Jimmie and Montgomery crest in the movie and see the skyline. That’s what I do for every interview, I like to walk up the hill to put me in the film. Just kidding, this is the first time I’ve done it. I’m just walking with a friend and we’re about two thirds of the way up. Woo!
We’ve just published our halfway top 10 of the year. The Last Black Man in San Francisco is in second place, between Avengers: Endgame and Booksmart. How does this make you feel, and how do you cope with reviews (whether they’re full of praise or criticism)? Wow, that means a lot. I find the reviews informative, though have to admit I don’t read too many of them. In general, it’s great to know that there are people that love movies enough to get into debates and write passionately, either about how much they loved them or didn’t like them at all. Having platforms like Letterboxd and finding those communities online can be really great, even if they’re not made up of people in your city.
Given that the film has relatively low stakes—it’s not life or death, it’s house or no-house—what gave you confidence that audiences would connect to Jimmie’s story? I don’t know if we were ever confident. You never fully know. You hope that if you share something that has meaning to you then it will have meaning to others. That was our guiding light.
We finished the movie four days before the Sundance screening, so that was the first time watching it with any audience. I looked over at [Plan B producer] Jeremy Kleiner when the movie ended; he said “the tweets are good”. I looked around and realized the whole audience were on their phone as soon as the credits rolled.
I only had a short film play at Sundance before [American Paradise in 2017, also starring Jimmie Fails] so I didn’t realize part of our culture now is the need to immediately respond to something—but luckily they were nice. It will be much more anxiety-inducing going into my next feature now that I know how all this works.
We wanted to make something that captured the San Francisco that we grew up in and feel very strongly about. We’ve travelled to Chicago, DC, New York, LA, and Atlanta with the film and I was surprised to see how much people were connecting to it. In a way, Jimmie and I say it is unfortunately universal because it means the same things are happening everywhere.
This idea has lived with you and Jimmie for a long time. Can you talk us through the journey of the film? We’ve been informally talking about it for at least seven years and it’s gone through so many incarnations. We always envisioned it as the first feature that Jimmie and I would make after many years of making short films together. This story felt big enough in scope and there was a lot that we wanted to cover.
We wanted to tell a story about Jimmie and this Victorian home he once lived in and make it a valentine to the San Francisco we grew up in, that we see as being lost. We also wanted to celebrate all the wonderful people who are here that make this city what it is. That’s a big part of what we are afraid of losing: the very people that make San Francisco ‘San Francisco’.
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An alternative poster for the film, illustrated by Akiko Stehrenberger.
We both lived with my parents for five years—we ran our operation out of the living room there. The first thing we did was shoot a concept trailer for Vimeo. It was a five-minute piece of Jimmie skating through the city telling his grandfather’s story, much like the [feature’s] opening sequence, though I filmed it hanging out of the side of my brother’s car.
Afterwards we got emails from people saying they wanted to help; they would become our core collaborators on the film. Khaliah Neal, Rob Richert, Luis Alfonso de la Parra, Natalie Teter, Sydney Lowe, Prentice Sanders, Fritzi Adelman, Laila Bahman and Ryan Doubiago. They spent years with us, hashing out the script over my parents’ kitchen table and working with us to create a look-book, run an ambitious Kickstarter campaign, write grant proposals and so on.
We felt like these oddballs—the last artists in San Francisco. You get a lot of noes along the way, having never made a movie before, so it was the emotional support that helped us persist through the difficult times. We were excited to be learning together, as a group of mostly first-timers, and were constantly making things.
Our look-book was very elaborate, thanks to our stills photographer Laila Bahman. We built it as a website and staged the scenes as if we were filming the movie, with costumes and heavy art direction. We knew people we pitched were probably seeing materials from other filmmakers who were further in their careers and probably better writers than us. We knew we needed to show the world of the movie so that executives’ imaginations wouldn’t be running off with thoughts of Michael B. Jordan or Donald Glover; that this is Jimmie and this is the plaid shirt we want him in and this is his Victorian. It’s his story.
That helped us get into the Screenwriter’s Lab at Sundance, but I didn’t get into the Director’s Lab, which I was initially bummed about because I really needed that experience. Our Kickstarter was very successful and those backers created a grassroots ground-swelling around the movie that pushed it forward, even though it was difficult in pitch meetings as we weren’t the most bankable pair in such a risk-averse industry.
In a last-ditch effort, my crew and I decided to do our own Director’s Lab instead. We felt if it doesn’t work now then that might be it for Last Black Man. I’d never made a proper short with a budget before but a producer named Tamir Muhammad, who had a short-lived venture within Time Warner called OneFifty, gave us the money to make what would become American Paradise. It gave the crew a chance to get in the trenches together before moving on to a feature, and show the potential of what we could do.
The team who’d assembled from our concept trailer years before all worked on American Paradise, from Khaliah Neal, Rob Richert and Luis Alfonso down the line. We worked with production designer Jona Tochet and even the sound team of Sage and Corinne (who would all go on to work on Last Black Man). In a city increasingly devoid of artists, we felt we’d found our people.
The short was different from Last Black Man, but features Jimmie playing the same character. After it played in Sundance it got the attention of Plan B’s Christina Oh. They took a big leap of faith on us, only having ever made that short. There’s not a lot of people willing to do that.
Khaliah, Christina and Jeremy approached A24 and we were in production two months later. From the outside it seems like this dream scenario of having the incredible indie studios Plan B and A24 behind us, but the truth is it took years working on drafts and wondering if anyone would ever read them. I think the extra time we had helped, because if we had the chance to make it two or three years ago, I don’t think we would have been ready.
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Jimmie Fails and the creative team behind ‘The Last Black Man in San Francisco’ at the 2019 Sundance Film Festival. / Photo: Sue Peri
What was the first movie you made with Jimmie when you were teenagers? The first half-decent thing we made was a movie that my brother and I co-directed called Last Stop Livermore. I am actually in it alongside Jimmie and that was my first and only time in front of the camera. I learned my place pretty early on.
Didn’t you have a cameo in Last Black Man? I swear I saw you. I did have a cameo. As long as I’m not speaking, I’m okay. But even then when I just had to look at Jimmie once it was very difficult for me to do. I needed four takes for that shot, ha ha. I’m much more comfortable on the other side.
Jimmie, however, was really good in [Last Stop Livermore]. We made it while I was in high school before I dropped out, and it got into the San Francisco International Film Festival. Like everything we do, it’s based on something that happened in real life when a friend and I felt like we were fish out of water, going off to meet some girls in the suburbs.
That attention the film got, however minor, encouraged us because until that point only our family, friends and my high school teacher had seen our movies. Oh and Jimmie still had a flat-top—just thought I should add.
The film features the most important house of the year [Editor’s note: at least until the rest of the world sees the Parasite house, designed by the great Namgoong]. How did you find Jimmie’s house and what made it the house? It took us over a year and a half to find the house. We combed the streets with my co-producer Luis Alfonso de la Parra and production designer Jona Tochet and knocked on doors. In hindsight, a more efficient way would have been to use Google Maps but this way we could see inside the houses.
Unfortunately, the interiors would usually be gutted and have IKEA furniture and granite table tops. As a filmmaker, it was depressing, but as a native San Franciscan it was heartbreaking because the details inside all these beautiful houses were destroyed. It’s a thing that a lot of real estate agents do when they flip houses.
We ended up going back to a house that I had driven past as a kid on my way to elementary school. My mom, my brother and I would pick out our dream Victorian houses on our family car ride since we couldn't afford a proper one. I went back to one of the houses that had always stuck with me. After we found that house, it felt like we had cast a major character in the movie.
When we first knocked on the door of the house that would become Jimmie's home in the film, an older gentlemen greeted us and within seconds beckoned us inside. As we entered, we found a home that had not been gutted, but instead had been lovingly restored. Jim, the homeowner, much like Jimmie, the actor, had spent more than half of his life working on the house.
He carved the witch hat you see in the movie shingle by shingle and did the honor of putting it on the roof himself. He fixed the organs you see in the film and built Pope's hole in the library. In many ways, he felt like the spirit of San Francisco.
As a now elderly man, we would have understood him declining our wants to film there -- or charging a buttload to help him in his retirement. Instead he welcomed our big crew into his house and charged us next to nothing. I still don't fully know why, but I can imagine he saw shades of himself in Jimmie's love for this Victorian.
In the years we spent location scouting, we would also meet people on the street that we put in the movie. Dakecia Chappell was working at a Whole Foods in the confectionery section, near a ‘potential Jimmie’s house’ around the corner and she was just really charming, so I offered her the ‘Candy Lady’ part in the film. We met the mover who tells Jimmie the homeowners are moving out late one night at a taqueria on Mission Street. This extra time allowed us to capture the little details of what our San Francisco is like.
Even after your major backing from Plan B and A24, was there a point on set where it felt like everything was falling apart? I’m sure there are directors that aren’t plagued by the self-doubt I had. I didn’t go to film school and I felt isolated in San Francisco since a lot of the filmmakers have left for Los Angeles or New York. I was feeling this imposter syndrome. You’re both really joyous and grateful that you finally have a chance to make a movie, but also feel the weight of the city and wanting to honor what’s happening to people there. In every stage you have big and little freak-outs. The only thing that got me through it were the people around me. They bring perspective when you might not have it.
A couple of months before we shot the film my dad had a stroke. He survived, thankfully, and he would say half-jokingly “I survived to see the movie”. My parents struggled as artists themselves in their lives and yet they created this loving home that allowed us to make the movie. I look up to my Dad a lot, so when that happened that was really scary, and it happened during the height of the pandemonium of prep.
By that point our creative collaborators felt like family and they did everything for us. They came over to my house, brought us food, did as much as they could to take work off my plate so I could be with my own family. That always sticks with me when I remember tough times. You could say it’s just a job, but they treated it like so much more. So while it sounds corny, I think the spirit which comes with people being so loving and kind becomes imbued in the film.
Very glad to hear your dad is okay. The scenes with Jimmie’s parents are so powerful; you really get a greater sense of his isolation. It’s amazing his mom agreed to be in the film as a fictionalized version of herself. How did you and Jimmie sketch those scenes? The scene with his mom is loosely based on something that happened. Jimmie was raised mostly by his dad and he’s very close to his parents now in a way that’s very different from the relationship that he had with them growing up. He and his dad have worked through a lot.
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Jimmie Fails as Jimmie. This and the header photo are by Laila Bahman.
It’s hard to pack in all the complex details that makes someone who they are because you don’t have enough screen time to do that sometimes. These elements were pulled from the walks we’d take during the earliest developments when the idea was more informal and we’d talk about Jimmie’s family.
One story that Jimmie always recalled both humorously but also quite painfully was about the guy who had driven off in the car that he and his dad were living in at the time. We thought it would be funny if there was a character who never acknowledged that he’d stolen the car but claimed that he was still borrowing it. We knew Mike Epps would be the perfect person for that. It was a story that came from a kernel of truth but took on a life of its own.
Why was Jimmie’s dad pirating The Patriot, of all movies? The tonal juxtaposition made us laugh. Ha ha, it was in the public domain.
We loved the score. What are some of the soundtracks that inspired you while making the film? The Last of the Mohicans, The Day of the Dolphin, The Claim, Batman (and also the animated TV show’s score actually rivals Elfman’s), and Far From the Madding Crowd.
You’ve spoken in another interview about how you and Jimmie fear friendships like yours aren’t possible with the type of gentrification that’s going on. However, nowadays you can meet some of the important people in your life over the internet. Could the bonds we make online compensate for what’s being lost on the streets? I think the internet is a double-edged sword. It both brings people together that you could never have met, such as how many of our closest collaborators first found our concept trailer online. But I do fear it also plays a part in people developing shallower, less intimate connections. I have friends who I love who will go to events seemingly just to get a good Instagram photo out of it. I’m sure I’ve suffered from similar instincts. That scares me.
Montgomery adds so much tenderness and insight to the film. Given he’s Jimmie’s best friend and he’s also an artist, is he your avatar in the movie? How did the casting of Jonathan Majors inform the development of his character? Montgomery is actually not based on me. Jimmie and I have a friend from the Bay named Prentice Sanders who is one of the more original people we’ve ever met. His spirit influenced the first shades of the character. When Jon came on he took those early sketchings to a whole new level, creating his own backstory, mannerisms, and interests.
On the vanity in his room, Jon decided to put up Tennessee Williams, August Wilson, Barbara Stanwyck, Canada Lee, Richard Wright and Ralph Ellison as inspiration. He had a hand in every little detail. In fact, Jon and Jimmie became very close in real life. They still talk nearly every day.
Warning: the last section of the interview contains spoilers, including for the endings of both ‘Last Black Man’ and ‘Ghost World’. This is your last chance to back out…
How do you direct Jimmie? I imagine you can read each other’s minds at this point. Yeah, there is a weird unspoken connection between us, as we grew up together. Knowing each other for so long allowed us to be vulnerable around each other. As a director, inevitably there are days on set that are stressful, scary, and tense, so being able to go for a walk around the block together to recalibrate and feel present was helpful.
This film asked something much different than anything we had done before. We’d never written a feature script and most of our shorts were ad-libbed. Honestly, everyone broke their backs to make this. Cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra was a hero. Nobody phoned it in.
But more than anybody, we asked the most of Jimmie. There’s a scene where he’s across from his real mother and the bravery from both of them to do that set a tone that everyone on set sought to honor.
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Joe Talbot and Jimmie Fails on the set of ‘The Last Black Man in San Francisco’. Photo by the film’s cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra.
Your collaboration with Jimmie has been so strong for such a long time. Is it a relief for you or maybe a sadness that this phase with him is nearly over? It doesn’t feel like it’s over yet, but I’m sure when it does there will be a little bit of sadness. The movie continues to sell out theaters on a Wednesday afternoon in San Francisco and opened in the little neighborhood theaters that indies barely make it into and it's playing alongside Toy Story. There’s a feeling in the city now that’s hopeful.
It’s been wonderful to witness because I feel like we’ve been working through our feelings about San Francisco in making the movie, and in some ways Jimmie leaving at the end feels a bit like us, how perhaps we can’t be here anymore. I’ve only ever lived in San Francisco my entire life but maybe it is time to go somewhere else.
However, in putting the movie out there I’ve seen so many more natives that feel like people I grew up with 15-20 years ago. People who I thought had been lost but are still out there, fighting to exist somehow through all the changes. I feel like part of me is falling back in love with San Francisco again and I think that feeling is going to go on for a long time.
A lot of people are contacting us saying that they left the theater and they just started writing their own scripts, or writing poetry, or sending us paintings that were inspired by the movie. In a city that is increasingly difficult to exist in as an artist and not always inspiring, this always means something to us.
On the film’s ending: to you, where is Jimmie going? Jimmie is going to start his legacy somewhere else—to fully be himself and start anew, following the footsteps of his grandfather. And it’s more fun to shoot it that way than have him ride away on a BART train.
One interpretation of the ending we’ve heard is that it was all in Mont’s head, and in “reality” it ended on a more tragic note. So some viewers felt it as hopeless, but you in fact intended it to be more hopeful? I think we wanted to leave it open to interpretation. I talked to Thora Birch [who has a small role in Last Black Man] about the ending of Ghost World, because that always left an impression on me. I interpreted it as a suicide when I saw it as a teenager and she had told me that she felt that way about it too, but there are also people who thought she was going off to art school. I feel our ending works in the same way.
I don’t see any interpretation of it as invalid, but what your relationship is to your city affects what you bring to it. Either way it’s a bittersweet ending, because it is a loss for Jimmie and Mont’s friendship, and for the city. Like, San Francisco doesn’t deserve him anymore.
Discover the films that inspired the look and feel of ‘The Last Black Man in San Francisco’.
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deanky · 5 years
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Total - Andy Merrill Q&A
Total TV: You did the Space Ghost voice in your original demo for Coast to Coast, right?
Andy Merrill: The pilot, yeah.
What was your Space Ghost voice like?
It was just [in pompous radio announcer voice] "so tell me Denzel, what was it like being at the Oscars?" Kind of stupid. Just a dumb pious voice.
You were not destined to be the voice of Space Ghost obviously.
No, I wasn't, no. I just did this goofy little mock-up to put questions to interview answers from these sound bites of Denzel Washington. To this day I don't think Denzel Washington knows that. I mean we didn't like broadcast it or anything. The [Denzel] footage was from Showbiz Today, I just recorded it from that right before I put the thing together, so that interview could have been with anybody that was on Showbiz Today that day.
Right. Clay said he had a real thing about Zorak from back when he was watching the original show. Did you feel that way with Brak?
No, you know, I didn't even know Brak. I mean, I was familiar with the show and I watched it as a kid in the 70's when it was like Space Ghost Frankenstein Jr. And my brother and I used to watch it all the time, my dad would always watch cartoons with us. But I never like associated myself with the characters. We just threw the Council of Doom together from--there was about a six-part episode, it was like the last of the old Space Ghost made where the Council of Doom got together against Space Ghost. And we took the Council of Doom members, shy of one, that we didn't already have on Coast to Coast, and had them sing the "Twelve Days of Christmas." That's where Brak came from.
Oh really? That was Brak's first-ever . . .
That was the original Brak, that was my first time doing Brak and Lokar. Brak came out of the writers' meetings where we would like read over the script and take different parts. And I always took Brak's part and just said, [in quasi-subdued Brakian scream] "Hi, my name is Brak," and it made us all laugh, so that's kind of how I got to do it. I didn't get paid anything, so it was very cheap. And Lokar we were going to establish as this staunch snobby type person, so we were going to have him just sing out operatically. And so I kind of have some singing background so I sang his voice. And then we reprised the characters in the world premiere Toon In show and then it all escalated from there into Cartoon Planet.
It's kind of cool to have the dichotomy of Lokar the erudite and Brak, who's obviously at the opposite end of the spectrum.
I think it's fun they're just so completely opposite. One is completely devoid of a brain and the other one thinks he's like the smartest being alive, so he uses big words. It's really challenging to do Lokar, just because whenever we write his lines we'll thesaurize, we'll get a thesaurus and we'll like pick like the biggest words and the hardest words to say and like plug them in.
Did you ever expect that Brak would take off to become like a cult hero? He gets the most fan mail.
No, you know, I didn't. And he does.
And I've got to say, Brak is my favorite. I mean I love Zorak too, but Brak is just like. . .
Well, he's just lovable. He's me. [laughs] No--well, basically he is. There's a lot of me in Brak and a lot of little stories that we tell are taken from like personal experiences. Whenever Brak talks about school and stuff like that, a lot of that is real. But it kind of surprised me when we first went to Dragon Con, which is a comic convention here in Atlanta, and we showed the "Twelve Days of Christmas" segment like the first year we were there. And it just surprised me to hear that people were singing along with it and just doing Brak lines and stuff. I just thought that was just kind of weird. And they wanted my autograph and all that stuff.
Do you sign Brak or do you sign Andy Merrill?
I sign Brak a.k.a. Andy Merrill. I took that from Clay. Clay does that too, Zorak a.k.a. Clay Croker, Seymour Croker, or something like that. So it's still kind of weird and I'm kind of used to it now, but just to see all the websites that are out there and stuff like that, it's just crazy. I'm happy that people really, really like the character. I'm really happy about that. So many people, you know, are reaching out.
What I love is he's sort of got like this 4- and 5-year-old consciousness that's just so pure, and I'm sure you get a lot of fan mail from little kids as well.
All ages, pretty much, from little kids to parents. And since we're on at 11:30 Friday nights we have a major college student following and they watch us, you know, religiously. I even did an interview last week where the person brought to my attention that there was a Brak drinking game. I said, Well, I can't endorse that, but that kind of was flying around the Internet too, which is kind of a weird thing. So it's escalated to that point. When you drive people to drink.
Was it the character of Brak that really inspired the move into Cartoon Planet? Or was that going to happen anyway?
No, Brak was going to be a very minimal part of Cartoon Planet. If you see any of the original shows--we kind of changed Brak over about a year's time. He got such a big response we wanted to put more of him in, and I would go into voice sessions and only last 20 minutes because I would just be in there screaming in a monotone at the top of my lungs and then my voice would give out. So he was stupid anyway so we kind of dumbed him up and gave him a lot more vocal range. I can go up and down and all that stuff. I can talk more normally now.
Right, otherwise your throat would never forgive you.
Oh yeah, it's terrible. It was awful. I would be out of it for like a day or two.
Well, I take issue with the fact that Brak is stupid. He's more like an idiot savant I think.
Yeah, Mike [Lazzo] always describes him as an idiot savant. And he was struck dumb, I mean he used to be this evil mastermind, so he's got some form of intelligence in him somewhere that comes out every once in a while. He's kind of like, you know, Jim Ignatowski of Taxi, you know.
Yeah, exactly, that's a good parallel, actually.
Like Jim goes to a party and plays the piano and stops in the middle, saying, I didn't know I could do this, and so that's kind of the parallel. He's stupid, but he's not. And that's part of the drinking game too. Whenever [Brak] says something intelligent, you have to drink. And he's into poetry and Shakespeare and stuff like that though he doesn't know it.
I love when Brak just goes off and starts to riff on stuff. Like when he goes on and on trying to find a highway number that works in "Highway 40 Unplugged," that bonus track on the Cartoon Planet Band EP.
Yeah. I can't remember why . . . we went in just to like record an extra track for the CD, and I just brought in my ukulele and played that. And played this old song, the other bonus track is "Put Your Socks On Mama." I made that up in college for my friend Paula 'cause I used to, over the summer, like send tapes to my really good friends--just goofy things, you know. That's where "Put Your Socks On Mama" came from. It's a song I made up. I'd forgotten about it for years but she, like, put this tape together of goofy stuff that I recorded for her and that song was on it.
Do you think there's ever a chance that the Cartoon Planet Band would make an actual live appearance?
I don't know. I don't know. You know, [writer] Dave [Willis] and I and Ann Susan [Brown] and Stuart [Shacklee] in programming played a street festival last year in May and we didn't sing any Cartoon Planet­type stuff, but we sang like Rolling Stone songs and stuff like that. So we can like put a little band together. But I don't know. We do a few conventions every year, like the Dragon Con and the Comic Con and I thought it might be fun to like get up and do a song or something. But so many people, when they come to like have you sign pictures are always trying to have me sing "Highway 40" or something. I always just kind of shy up on them, feel stupid, 'cause I don't have any music or anything like that. And some of them I can't--I mean it's nice that we have the CD and stuff so I can at least remember the songs 'cause some of these we recorded like two years ago. And you know you record them once and never perform them or anything, so it's like you forget the words and all that stuff.
So you never had an actual musical career before this? You just did like these goofy songs for friends every once in a while?
Yeah, I'd do goofy songs for friends and I always just--my parents were very sad when I left the house for college, just because I was always like making noise and singing and goofing around the house and stuff.
Do you think there was always a Brak inside you, like struggling to get out?
I'm sure my neighbor thinks I'm nuts just because I live alone with my dog and I'm always like talking to my dog or, like, singing stupid songs to make her wag her tail or something like that.
What's your dog's name?
Sage. But I call her Stinky or Dummy or stuff like that.
What kind of dog?
Black lab.
Ooh, nice. I love black labs.
She's funny.
I bet. Do you ever get to the point where you're starting to talk like Brak when you don't mean to talk like Brak? Or can you like turn that on and off? I mean, do you have Brak-ish moments in your normal life?
Every once in a while. Not too often. I'm always trying to think of where the present Brak voice came from and I just remember my friend Wally and I in high school just going around saying, [in goofy voice] "You be dawg, you be dawg, you're a dopey dawg," and it kind of came from that, but not totally. It just like came back years later, but I don't know. It's such a different voice, I don't really fall into it that much. But there's times when I'm in the car, like listening to Queen or something like that, you know--there's a lot of Queen songs that would be really funny if Brak sang them. I mean it'd be fun to, like, do an album of actual songs, it would be expensive but it'd be fun to like have Lokar and Brak do "Under Pressure." Or something like that. It just would be fun to do certain songs like "Bohemian Rhapsody" or Alanis Morrissette's "You Oughta Know."
That would be outstanding. Another persona that I love of yours is the guy in the goofy Space Ghost suit.
That's the Space Ghost Dancer. You know, we auditioned people for that, I called a number of dance studios around town to audition.
You mean like real actual dancers?
Yeah, to see if anybody was like interested in auditioning to be the dancing Space Ghost. And I had five guys lined up for the audition. Three showed up and did okay. No, actually two showed up, did all right, and then we had all this studio time left and Pete said, "Well, why don't you put the suit on and dance?" I said, "Well are you going to do it?" He said, "Yeah, I'll do it if you do it." So I put it on first and Pete never did put the suit on. But I just got up and danced around and we had that on a tape too. The actual muscular professional dancer in a Space Ghost suit was just too freaky. It's like really a scary thing to see Space Ghost actually dancing nicely. So we showed mine too, which was funny, and then we went in for a two-day shoot and shot a whole bunch of openings and closings
There were some openings we didn't use, like my favorite was really funny, but we couldn't use it for obvious reasons. Space Ghost starts to dance and then grabs his arm and falls over from a heart attack and just lays there dead the rest of the opening. And we couldn't use that. But last year, last May, Dave and I went out with my video camera and I put the suit on and we went out to Stone Mountain Park and ran around and shot some stuff and it was amazing to see how many people cooperate with that. Like, there were these four ladies playing tennis, and we just went up and sheepishly asked them if we could film me playing tennis with them, and I thought they would tell us to hit the road but they signed releases. And we played putt-putt and went to a place just up the street from my apartment, and shot Space Ghost getting his hair cut.
What's going to happen with Cartoon Planet? I know it's been a little bit on hiatus because there's so much emphasis on Coast to Coast, but I mean it's coming back, isn't it?
[hesitantly] I . . . I don't know. I . . . I hope.
Mike Lazzo said it was when I asked him yesterday.
[somewhat incredulously] Really?!
Yeah, he said absolutely, oh yeah, yeah.
[eagerly] You have that on tape?
Yes, I do have it on tape.
[triumphantly] Okay, then we've got him. [laughs] I hope, you know, when we're done doing this deal that we'll do more. I'm hoping. 'Cause I'd like to do more of some of the newer stuff we were doing like "Cooking [with Brak]." We only did like two "Tales of Suspense," which I just thought of, like, at the last session we did. So I'm hoping to take a little vacation in September. Hopefully we'll be done with 26 [Coast to Coast] shows by then.
Do you have the whole arc of how the 26 episodes are going to go?
How they're going to air? No, 'cause that kind of changes all the time, until the last minute.
Right. But I know you do start with "Pilot," and I just actually got a chance to see [the second episode] "Rehearsal." I love the ending where you see that big human hand come down and then you realize that it really is this little tiny miniature set . . .
The set being broken down. That was good, yeah. That's like three-year-old footage. That's cool because that's some of the original footage. The original footage of them tearing down the set, we've had that for years, we've just never had a reason to use it. So it was cool that we could use it.
Who were your favorite cartoon characters as a kid?
Um . . . boy . . . My dad would come down and watch cartoons with us all the time and we would watch Super Friends and Space Ghost. Space Ghost really wasn't my favorite, though. I always liked the Herculoids, and Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle was always my favorite. All those Filmation Tarzan, Batman, Lone Ranger, Zorro cartoons; Fat Albert was big.
So those were all contemporary cartoons that were running at the time?
Um-hm. But Warner Bros., I always liked Sylvester a lot. Sylvester was always my favorite. Even today, it was nice when I was in programming to be able to work with those Warner Bros. cartoons and actually see the birth of those cartoons and how they were developed and stuff like that. I just love, like, the original Sylvesters. There's one that's amazing where Elmer Fudd is trying to sleep and he's outside, like yelling and screaming and singing and stuff. It's just really, really funny.
On Cartoon Network, on the Tex Avery hour, whenever the last one was, they had the original Bugs Bunny episode with Elmer before Bugs really looked like Bugs.
Yeah. That's another thing I'll probably be working on after Space Ghost is finished. We're going to do more Toon Heads where we show the evolution of the characters and also pay tribute to different directors of cartoons, instead of just Tex Avery. I had the idea of doing a Chuck Jones show but that's probably later on in '98.
One reason Cartoon Planet has to come back is we've got to have Brak's Monday Ratings Report again. I really miss that.
Yeah. We were worried about that, actually. Mike was insistent on us doing a ratings report and we kept saying, we can't do that cause there's some FCC rule or something, you can't tell people how you're doing cause that just kind of screws up the rating system or something like that. I don't know exactly the laws or whatever. But Pete thought of this way to do it which is to just make them up.
And turn the charts upside down.
Yeah. Like, "Hey guys, we're not doing very well." Just do it in a vague way, so we're not saying, you know, our ratings suck. They're all just kind of made up. So I don't know what's going to happen [with Cartoon Planet]. I know that probably scares people when I say that. But I'm sure, you know, when these 26 episodes are over, we'll need something to work on. I would like to do more. We would definitely like to do more. It's a fun show to do and it's pretty effortless to write.
Because you don't have to build it around the interview or anything.
Yeah. It's not as easy as it looks, but Pete and I have this good thing going and since we're the characters it's, like, easy for us I guess. I don't know. Some people try and write for Brak. every once in a while we'll catch some scripts on the Internet that people write. And they'll just make Brak stupid.
How many letters do you get a week?
Me? I don't know, maybe . . . Space Ghost gets a lot of letters.
They told me you got the most mail or rather Brak got the most mail.
Brak does, and a lot of them are addressed to Cartoon Planet, but if they're addressed to Brak, they get to me. I'm not good at answering mail because I'm a jerk. I'm not a jerk, but I just, you know, I let mail accumulate. I'm good at--I can answer e-mail. Usually I try to answer mail, but I'm just bad at it. As is everyone probably. [rummaging through some cluttered piles of papers and mail] This is a black hole. I got second place in most messiest offices.
Who got first place?
I think it was [TNT VP of programming] Phil Oppenheim. [rummaging some more] I can't find any pictures. I got a nice postcard of Amish people. [pulls it out] And it's funny, because Ohio's Amish country. I know this area very well. 'Cause a lot of my family grew up in Northern Ohio.
I'm from Northern Ohio, too. And I went to the College of Wooster, which is right in Amish country.
Really? That's like right next to Orville. My grandma lives in Orville, that's where my mom grew up.
And my great-grandma lived in Sugar Creek and that's where my grandma grew up, and my great-aunt and uncle live there and they have the Swiss festival every year and a lot of my family heritage on my mom's side is in Sugar Creek. And there's like some old historic pictures of like my ancestors and stuff like that. So it's like really cool. My dad grew up in Columbus. I grew up totally in Ohio. My parents still live in Ohio. My whole family like lives in Ohio.
Ohio builds good stock. Some great things came out of Ohio, like Chrissie Hynde . . .
. . . and Wayne Newton . . .
. . . and Pere Ubu . . .
. . . and Paul Lynde. [laughs]
Yeah. [laughs] So how did you get to Atlanta? You went to school here or something?
I went to school in Asbury College in Kentucky and my professor had a lot of connections. I, like, freelanced for ABC Sports a couple times and stuff like that through college, and I came down here for the National Association of Broadcasters conference with a group of students. This was, like, a month after I graduated in like March of '90. I came down here and visited CNN and thought, you know, I could work here. So I put in an application and didn't get hired, and just came down here after college and did an internship in sports. It's weird that they took me since I wasn't a student, but I did an internship in CNN Sports. I'm not a sports nut at all, I really hate sports. But it was like an easy internship, and I heard that if you had an internship and did a good job you were pretty much hired into the company. So I did an internship for like a few months and then the Gulf war broke out and there wasn't much to do in sports then. Before I went home, I put an application in at CNN one more time, and I was hired about two or three months later. I think my old roommate helped me out just to get the papers flying around. It was good to have somebody within CNN pushing your name around and stuff. So I got into CNN and I was there for a year and found the job here [at Cartoon Network], like, on the company bulletin board.
It doesn't sound like you were on this straight path of like 'I'm going into animation.'
Yeah, it's like, my mom always would bug me because I always watched too much TV and I never like read books or anything. And my brother and I would always make little recordings on the tape player and I would go out with my friend Wally in high school and make videos and stuff. And at the time I never thought it would amount to anything, till I took broadcasting in college and then it, you know, took me a year and a half to find the job at CNN. I did a lot of crappy work before that, working in a folding and binding factory making sure these machines ran and folded these stupid brochures and stuff. I hated that. I did that for three weeks and I believe I was fired from that job.
You didn't fold and bind correctly?
No. I was told to replace this guy at this one machine and the guy didn't like tell me what to do, he was like well, you just make sure these go in the right way. So I thought I was doing it right, and I guess I screwed up about like 400, 4,000, something like that, brochures. 'Cause they were folded wrong. So the manager brought me in his office--it was a temp job--and he said, "I don't think we're going to need your help anymore." So he signed my little temp form and I left. So you know that just was terrible. But I worked at a pizza place before I worked at CNN. That was like my big job.
Oh, well. I mean, everybody goes through those early jobs.
Which is good. It's a good experience, it's good to go through all that garbage before you get to a point in your life where everything's cool.
What do your parents think now? Do they think that that was time well spent? All those hours in front of the TV?
My mom, you know, doesn't say, I wish you would have read more. My parents have always been really, really supportive of everything I've done. So they've always been, you know, very encouraging. I have a really good family and I talk to them all the time and so they're always really supportive of everything I do.
Do they like the show? Are they fans?
Yeah. Mm hmm. My grandma watches Cartoon Planet.
Really? That's neat.
She was happy that they finally got Cartoon Network in Orrville. And yeah, they watch it all the time and whenever we have new shows I make sure they know. So whenever they see something new they'll call up, you know, laughing and stuff like that.
That's pretty cool.
Yeah, it's nice. My brother doesn't have cable. Well, he has cable, but he has, like, the worst cable company in probably ever, like the cable company in Versailles, Kentucky. They're just terrible, they have like two of every network channel, NBC, ABC, Fox. And like hardly anything else, other than like American Movie Classics. It's just terrible. And my sister doesn't have cable.
But your grandma watches in Orville.
Yeah, and whenever my nephew's at my parents' house, when he was like younger he would always see me dancing on the screen and he'd dance along.
Oh, with the Space Ghost Dancer?
Yeah. [chuckles]
What a great uncle to have. I mean wouldn't you have liked to have had you as an uncle?
Yeah. I did have a couple really great uncles when I was growing up, but yeah. My brother and sister are both married and I'm the middle child so I just feel kind of like, okay, I'm stupid, I'm not married. I was feeling like that for a while, but when they finally had kids, both of them, I thought, well this is great, you know, 'cause I can at least have this.
And that's the best role, uncle. You don't have any of the father responsibilities.
[wistfully] Well, you know, I would at least like a girlfriend. But I like going to toy stores and buying all the cool things that are out there. And I like playing with my nephew and stuff, and my brother just had a child not too long ago, and it'll be cool to see him grow up too. It's just an amazing thing, you know. Just an amazing thing, just kids. I just . . . I like kids, I get along with kids.
I'm not surprised.
You know, once my nephew started to be able to talk, my sister would call me on the phone and she would say, he's got something to tell you. And I'd hear the phone being exchanged and I would hear this [in little-kid -trying-to-be-superhero voice] "I'm Superman." [chuckles] You know, it's just so . . . it made me laugh.
Has he ever given you any material you've used for Brak?
Um, no. He thinks he's Batman. No, not really. I really haven't touched that. We did do one thing with my nephew--we had like a contest or something or other here, not really a contest, it was just kids, send in your picture and we'll put your picture on a ghost or a scary vampire or something, and scare Scooby Doo. Something like that. It was around Halloween. And so when my nephew was pretty much an infant, you know, I had this one picture of him that I like gave to them, this one [shows picture of gnomish newborn]. They put his head on this vampire. [laughs] It was funny.
That's cool. What's your nephew's name?
Schuler.
What a neat name.
My other nephew is James. Schuler is named, I guess, after a family friend. Schuler James, and then there's James Robert. But James is just tiny, tiny. I saw him like a week after he was born, that's the youngest [baby] I've ever seen. I didn't even see Schuler that young, so it's kind of cool to experience, you know, a week-old relative of mine.
Yeah, that is cool. Back to Space Ghost Coast to Coast--do you think there's anything on the show that even those of us who think we are like the hippest aficionados may be missing? Some other level it's working on?
I don't know, I don't think there's anything . . . I mean, there's nothing cerebral about the show. I mean, we're all just a bunch of geeks writing for the show. There isn't much hidden stuff in any of the shows, you know. Cartoon Planet and Coast to Coast get mixed up all the time. I don't understand that, how people mix up those two shows, 'cause they're so different. One is completely written and strict to the script, and the other one, Cartoon Planet, relies more on not just the script but ad libs in the studio and stuff like that.
Right.
But I don't know of any hidden stuff, any deep things.
I sometimes see stuff when I see episodes over again that I didn't catch the first time.
You catch different things when you watch our shows, like more than once, but I think that's the case with a lot of shows, you know. Simpsons, it's more so just because they're able to animate their characters and there's a lot of visual comedy and stuff in The Simpsons that you can see but you don't see it the first time. Here, with us, we're just so limited in animation, it's almost like the opposite. You have to, like, watch it twice to hear certain things for the first time.
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aviationfiction · 5 years
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XXXIV
Dante St. James
“Holy shit. It looks amazing in here.”
Stacey’s eyes widened in awe as she slowly walked through the foyer from the door and eventually stopped at the living room. Though the smirk on Mike’s face was one of teasing and slight sarcasm, even he looked on in amazement at the holiday spectacular that my fiancée has morphed my apartment into. She began the process the day after Thanksgiving and spent countless hours between then and the first of December putting every single aspect of it together with whatever minimal help that she needed from me. My only purpose as her handyman was to use my height to her advantage when she didn’t feel like climbing the ladder to reach something. The Balsam Hill website transformed her into a kid in a candy store and she clicked away at whatever was needed to make her fantasy of turning this place into her own version of the perfect holiday imagery and despite my protests, it was all done out of her pocket. The beginning of her efforts started with a fifteen foot pre-lit Aspen Fir tree that perfectly mirrors a living tree without the nature like whiff. I hadn’t noticed how high my ceilings were until that colossal tree was carried in here by eight different delivery men. They’d even given her a free ladder for what would be an exhausting experience in my opinion. Her adrenaline pumper to get it done? Anything Motown Christmas. Rather than the traditional red and green, her vision was silver and gold as Burl Ives sings it. Everything from the ornaments, tree picks, ribbon, and garlands followed that color palette and gave the tree some much needed life. Underneath the tree, she opted for a crimson velvet tree skirt. Over on the entertainment center was illuminated garland and a family of six polar bears. Hanging from their feet were six crimson velvet Christmas stockings with Autumn, Dante, Michael, Fredrick, Stacey, and Kaylee written on their upper flap. I think I fell even more in love with her after seeing that. On the apartment door is a wreath similar to the garland. My place hasn’t experienced the holiday season to this capacity…ever and despite my playful resistance early on, it’s nice to see.
“Yo, you really are married now. I bitched about your house looking worse than the Grinch’s crib for years and yet you still put that bitch ass Charlie Brown Christmas tree on the table. You get a girl, put a ring on her finger, and now it’s looking like Santa’s Workshop threw up in here. What the fuck?” Of course he would start with his complaints about my decorating. I’ve never felt compelled to decorate because I live alone. What is the point of throwing up decorations all over the place for only myself to glance at? Christmas is a family holiday. The mild depression that I’ve always experienced around this time of year would have worsened and I would have likely been finding toxic ways to numb the emotions. So that little tree, that Autumn amusingly threw away, was my acknowledgement of the holiday without going overboard.
“Well, you know what the power of the P will do.” Stacey’s vulgar statement earned a quick side eye from me as Mike erupted into more chuckling than necessary.
“Anyway, what’s bring y'all by?”
“Where’s the wife to be?” She hadn’t even given me the proper greeting and here she is already asking for Autumn.
“She’s not here. Why?”
“I’ve come with venue options for the engagement party.” Engagement party? Neither Autumn or myself have discussed anything wedding related with anyone in particular and after the speculative bullshit that Richard has fed to the media, and I’m not quite sure we will be. We’re caught in this weird space of her wanting me to make amends with my relatives so that they’ll be able to be apart of all of the wedding festivities and anything else we intend to do with our lives after it and yet, the behavior of my paternal parent has irritated her and left her conflicted on whether any of that is a good idea or not. Then there’s me, who couldn’t care less about their presence. So, an engagement party? I can already foreshadow the disagreements that will happen when mapping out a guest list. The thought of it sounds nice, but executing it? Even God will have a migraine.
“That’s really why you’re here?”
“That’s not the only reason why. We were out holiday shopping. Mike’s my designated driver since the husband has my car and I refuse to drive that monstrosity that he calls an SUV. We decided to drop by after lunch. I bought you pasta from the Cheesecake Factory.” She held up the bag in the midst of her stride to my kitchen and I glanced over at Mike, who playfully rolled his eyes.
“I’ve been her designated driver since eight this morning. I’m tried as hell.”
“Oh shut up. It’s only noon. You’re getting practice for whenever your too cool for school ass finally settles down with one of those young short skirt wearing legal secretaries around your office.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I dealt with a paralegal or two and y’all are turning it into me being a serial dater of people who work around me. I would never give myself that type of headache. You’re giving me flack and Dante’s literally marrying his corporate flight attendant. He mixed the shit out of business and pleasure.” Though I didn’t want to laugh to give him the satisfaction of getting that joke off, I couldn’t help it. While there is no comparison because he’s falsifying that one or two estimation, the mixing business with pleasure part is funny. I suppose I did, but it’s a regret that I don’t have.
“So how is everything after that bullshit that Richard pulled last week? I know we spoke briefly about it but you didn’t give me enough detail.”
“I don’t know, honestly. I know that I’m pissed off but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of retaliation. As far as Autumn, she’s indifferent about it. She’s been extremely busy with that holiday party, so she’s been in Jersey a lot since then. She dropped by here yesterday evening because she was already in Manhattan and she made dinner. We talked about it some more and she seemed to be alright. Per usual, she was far more concerned with what I’m feeling rather than her own emotions. She went to bed around nine. She’s been tired all this week.”
“Pregnant?” My hands halted from the task of untying the bag and both of my eyebrows instantly raised at such a random question. Mike’s curious posture worsened the odd tension that suddenly arose in the room as he idly leaned against the counter and mischievously smirked while awaiting an answer.
“I just told you that she’s working crazy hours on a Christmas party and pregnancy is what you make of that? It doesn’t make sense Stace.”
“But lets just say that she is pregnant. What would you do?” Yet again, Mike and I made eye contact and he was seemingly far more curious about whatever my answer may be more so than Stacey and I’d be a fool if I stood here pretending to be clueless as to why. Though it is her who brought it up this time, he’s tossed it at me as a hypothetical more than once in the midst of a number of our conversations and though I wouldn’t say that he did it to inflict fear within me, it happened either way. I don’t fear starting a family with Autumn. I fear not being capable of protecting her through nine months of a vulnerable state and then the life we created together after the fact.
“I would do what I’m supposed to do; take care of her and prepare to be a father. Did you assume that I would do something else?”
“Of course not. That’s not who you are. That question is more so for how things are right now. I know you’d rather not have a baby here, right?”
“In New York? Location has nothing to do with anything.”
“Word. People make places ugly. It never has anything to do with location.” I nodded in agreement with Mike’s follow up and pulled the plastic container out of the bag.
“I would love to be settled in California when we conceive a child. That’s the goal. If life throws some sort of a curve ball and it happens before then, then we’ll be fine. More than anything for me, I’d prefer we be settled and not have to worried about getting there in the midst of preparing to have a baby and Autumn’s in a place of wanting to make sure she has certain things together on her end before she can focus on motherhood.”
“That’s understandable. Is a wedding going to happen before the move and everything that Autumn wants to do?”
“If I could, I’d marry her tomorrow. We have a date for next year that we discussed, but the problem is the outside factors. For as long as you two and Fredrick are at the wedding and maybe Camille, I couldn’t give two shits about anyone else who attends for the sake of me. She can invite her entire family, all of her friends, and anyone else she feels compelled to have there. All I need is the four of you and I’m straight. She’s not okay with that. She’s pushing for me to at least make some kind of a reconciliation with my mother and I can’t force that no matter how hard I try. I’d love to do that for her, but that’s the thing. She doesn’t want me to do it for her because it wouldn’t be genuine. She’s insists that I need to do it for myself.”
“Because despite what you all are going through, you only get one set of parents. Don’t get me wrong, your parents are fucked up. I’ll never deny that because it would be a slap in your face. Richard is who he is and that who he’s going to be until his body is lifeless and cold. As for your mother, I think there’s potential there. She loves you. She’s had a screwed up way of showing it in the midst of dealing with the whirlwind of bullshit that she caused within her own life, but the love is there. I think she’s witnessed that and believes bridging that gap may be good for you. I don’t think it’ll hurt.” Of course he’d agree with her. They’re all extremely family driven and despite all of the good they’ve done while being apart of my life, none of them will ever be able to fill certain voids. It’s unrealistic to put that kind of pressure on any of them, including Autumn. I may not say it or show it, but I love my mother. I’m not sure if it’s because I feel obligated to out of honor for her birthing me or if it’s naturally emotionally driven, but the love is there. More than any apology, I at least deserve some acknowledgement of the manner in which I was dismissed. It’s the only sensible method to move forward because I can’t play catch up with a woman who deliberately missed out on so much of my life when she didn’t have to. I wasn’t shipped off to the next of kin because we were financially struggling. She wasn’t some drug addict or alcoholic mother who was so caught up in her addictions that they overshadowed my presence. I wasn’t a misfit kid who would rather be running the streets and looking for every possible troublesome outcome to avoid living a structured life at home. Selfishness was the driving force behind every decision that she made and she doesn’t deserve to breeze on by without admitting to it all because she suddenly sees me.
“Maybe some day it’ll happen. I don’t….”
I paused mid sentence at the sound of the door opening and though it wasn’t the typical sound of heels, I could hear Autumn’s feet dragging against the flooring.
“Yo.”
“Yo.” As she called back out to me, she inched closer to the kitchen and finally appeared in the doorway for all to see. The usual glamour that she exudes was scaled down to a grey Ralph Lauren sweatsuit, a Moncler coat, hat, and scarf, and surprisingly a pair of blue Ugg boots that left me beyond amused. I never thought I’d see her in a pair of those clunky boots in my lifetime and yet here she is proudly in a pair and bundled up against the thirty degree weather outside. Even in the comfort wear, she looked stunning and yet adorable in the midst of it. The only make up on her face was lip gloss and that took about ten years off of her actual age.
“Esmeralda. What’s up?”
“Hey Mike. What’s up Stacey?”
“Hey gorgeous. How are you?”
“Tired.” She made her way to them one by one for the hugs that they were awaiting and I was left with her pressing her lips into my own for a longing kiss. After that, I was fine with her lack of a verbal greeting for me.
“I’m starving.”
“You want this pasta? I can just eat the leftovers from what you made last night. That’s what I was planning to do anyway.” As she opened the fridge, her eyes panned in the direction of the plastic container I was pointing at.
“Are you sure? I can just eat one of these greek yogurts and call it a day honestly.” I quickly nodded my head to her question. “Besides, I have to grab my shoes and head back to Jersey. I left my pumps over here last week and I need them for tonight.”
“Yeah. Come and eat this. What time do you need to be back at the venue tonight?” Rather than giving her the plastic fork that was already in the bag, I grabbed a silver one out of the drawer.
“Well, cocktail hour starts at seven, so I figure that I’ll be back by six. I made sure I crossed every T and dotted every I before I walked out of there this morning. I refuse to have to return this afternoon and be scrambling. I don’t even have the energy for that. I already have a headache from this morning.”
“I have some wings in here. I only ate like two of them. You can have those too.” Her eyes immediately lit up at Mike’s offering.
“It’s only noon. So, why don’t you eat the food and take a nap? You can sleep until like three. You have the car, so you can drive into Jersey as soon as you wake up and get ready from there. I think you can make it back in time by six.”
“No, it’s alright. I’ll just eat the pasta and I’ll head back in a few.”
“You need some sleep. Take the nap. I’ll be up, so I will make sure you’re up in time to make it back to Jersey. Why don’t you go to the room, take your stuff off, and lay down now. I’ll warm this up and bring it to you. What do you want to drink?”
“Water is fine.” As she turned to walk away, a part of me was surprised that she didn’t put up one of her stubborn protests. Maybe she’s just that damn tired. She claims that after this party, she has nothing else that is physically or mentally draining to do and I’m holding her to that. She’s been starting her mornings early and ending her nights later than normal because of it.
“You’re such a good husband.” Mike’s tease came with my middle finger instantly being pointed up, while Stacey snickered at yet another moment that they were able to goad me about. It’s never going to end. They’ve been anticipating the day when I’d fall in love because it seemed like hell freezing over was more of a sure thing for a long time. Despite the jokes, I know it all comes from them being proud.
“Since we’re on the husband topic, back to the engagement party. Seriously, I’m thinking it should be at The Rainbow Room or in Brooklyn at The William Vale. Maybe Gotham Hall?” I’ve been to different events at all of those venues she mentioned and the only thing that came to mind was the magnitude in size. Those are venues you book when you’re planning to have five hundred or more guests showing up to whatever you’re celebrating.
“It’s an engagement party. How many people do you think we’re inviting?” As I placed the container into the microwave and put the timer on two minutes, she loudly huffed with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Maybe two to two hundred and fifty.”
“Hell no.” Both Mike and I responded in unison. He knew that I wouldn’t get on board with that no matter how many times she batted her eyes and lightened her tone. That would be a social nightmare.
“Come on. You can’t just leave out everyone at the company. There are so many people there who love and admire you Dante. Be fair.”
“And they’d be there to fill seats and for the free food and drinks. They admire the work I do, not the man that I am. They don’t know me and I’d prefer to keep it that way. There are a few that I wouldn’t mind being there, but two hundred and fifty people? That’s going too far for an engagement party. If anything, it should be a nice dinner somewhere with no more than twenty or thirty people.”
“Twenty or thirty? Are you kidding me?”
“You think he’s kidding?”
“Dante, seriously?”
“Seriously. Find a dinner party venue and then run those options by me.”
“If that’s the case, we can just do it at Baraya. You all have one of the most beautiful restaurants in the city.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. We can get a decorator to do a couple of floral arrangements for some tables. Everything else we can do on our own. Cheap and yet effective.” Mike’s frugal idea instantly made me laugh. He can be somewhat of a Bargain Betty when he wants to be. The man makes over six figures a year and yet for the most part, he does his best to live a simple life. I always joke with Fredrick that Mike may be the wealthiest one out of all of us because he’s not really the splurging type unless the moment calls for it or for his mother. Fredrick’s flashy. Me? I’d like to think I’m moderate but for my baby? I’d break the bank on whatever.
“Nah, we’d have to turn Bayara into some sort of a vision. We’re going to need way more than just a couple of floral arrangements. I like the idea though. We’ll see what happens.”
“We’ll see what happens? We need to lock down these details soon.”
“We have time.” As soon as the microwave stopped, I removed the container and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. My short jog to the bedroom was met with Autumn carefully placing her coat down on the ottoman in the closet.
“You want the TV on?”
“No.” As I placed everything on the nightstand, she walked out of the closet and plopped down on the bed. My next move was to remove her Ugg boots and place them at the foot of the bed.
“Did you find your shoes?”
“Yeah, I put them in my bag. Thank you.” It didn’t long for her to dig into the pasta. I doubt she’ll finish all of it but more than half should be doable. It’ll probably be all that she has on her stomach for the rest of the night since she decided to work at the party rather than simply attending it.
“Am I going to see you tonight?”
“What do you mean?”
“Am I going to see you or am I going to only catch glimpses of you from around the room out of the corners of my eyes? I was thinking maybe we can have a drink together or something. Maybe have a dance or two? I know you’re going to be working and it’ll be a lot, but squeeze me in if you can. I’m not asking you to make any promises. It’s just awkward for us to be in the same room with one another with little to no interaction despite it being a work night for you.” There’s a part of me that believes she’s going to keep her distance because of the New York Post article and the extended coverage on the internet which has put us in an awkward space publicly. We’ve gone from living in this world where it’s just she and I with a chosen few who are aware of what we share to millions of people speculating and making the most absurd assumptions. There’s this weird presumption that she and I are some sort of fling. In the pictures, her hands are resting in her lap and in the one shot when we’re standing, her arm was extended behind my back so there were no glimpses of the ring. Despite that, why would I take a fling to an event of that magnitude? I know that’s the narrative Richard is trying to convince himself of so that I’ll remain under his wing and the driving force behind the company. Now he’s pushing it beyond that narrow-minded mind of his. Tonight, I’m pushing back.
“We’ll have a drink tonight. I’m sure at some point, I’ll take a break.”
“Alright.”
“Thank you for the pasta.”
“It’s no problem. Enjoy it.”
I left her to the privacy she needed and closed the door behind myself so that whatever noise coming from the kitchen didn’t disturb the nap that I’m not even sure she’s going to take. Often time, her stubborn nature holds strong, even in opposition against what she needs. More than anything, I’d rather she be well rested for the task that’s head of her tonight. Though I don’t know what the holiday party will consist of aside from the basics, I trust that her family has a lot more class than my own. I don’t expect any ridiculous speeches from neither Isaac or Silas about the family and if they do give a word or two, at least whatever statements are said will have mindfulness and a genuine tone behind them. I doubt Lillian will hound either one of us about wedding plans that are yet to be because she has absolutely nothing else to speak about. Most of all, I’ll be able to let my guard down. I don’t have to worry about being on alert to verbally or physically rip someone apart for even the slightest bit of disrespect towards me and most of all, towards her.
“Yo, you got some cuff links that I can borrow? Let me get the ones with the blue gems in them. I don’t know where I put my favorite pair and the next favorite pair that I have belong to you.”
But I will have to deal with Mike’s antics. I suppose that should be the easy part.
"So word has been traveling around about my potential move to L.A. and I’ve gotten a couple of phone calls. Manatt, Phelps, & Phillips called, I have a couple of e-mails from Greenberg Traurig, and Ziffern Brittenham reached out too.
“These are all tier one firms?” Once I was finally able to switch lanes, I turned off my blinker and slightly turned down Outkast’s Aquemini album. The traffic on I-95 S in Jersey had finally picked up in pace. While Autumn was asleep, I’d already called Marv to come and drive her home so that she wouldn’t have to drive while sleepy. I wish I hadn’t of woken her up from that nap because she couldn’t mask her grumpiness no matter how hard she tried to. Even the kiss she gave me as she walked out of the door was half assed and I could do nothing other than chuckle.
“Yeah. I believe so. I just don’t think I’m interesting in partnering with another firm whether they’re giving me name partner upon hiring or not. It’s a lot of politics that goes into that shit, especially when you’re walking in the door with perks that internal lawyers are busting their ass for. They immediately walk around with this chip on their shoulders while looking at you like you’re this designer suit wearing fuck boy who stepped on all of their toes to get a position that they deserve. I don’t care what anyone has to say but at the same time, I’m in a place where I feel like I don’t need to pet people in order to cease tension within a firm and I’m not playing a game of who can bust one another’s balls the best when it comes to power and rank amongst partners. I’m not even being cocky when I say that I’ve had far too much success to concern myself with that.”
“That’s why it’s time to branch out on your own and start your own firm. You’ve outgrown what’s being offered to you. You have enough clout and pull to snatch up a couple of hot shots from well known firms around this country, but I also know that we’re alike when it comes to giving people to chance to grow, show, and prove themselves to be the greatness that the future needs so I know your interns and first year selections will be good and just as great.”
“That's probably the most important part to me brother.”
“That’s how it should be.”
Autumn chose The Palace at Somerset Park as the venue for tonight’s festivies. Initially, she had ten different places in mind and I remember the headache she’d given herself over the course of a couple of days to narrow it down to the best three. After a numbers game, she eventually settled on the forty thousand dollar price tag simply to book The Palace. All of the extra perks that she added in there continued to raise the price by the thousands and I’m not even sure what was spent on the decorating team she hired to execute her Winter Wonderland theme. Despite her nonchalance about it, between everything she did for Heather’s wedding and now this party, I was exposed to yet another talent of hers that she doesn’t even recognize. I don’t believe I’ve come across another woman who can successfully dip her hands into many jars like Autumn can. I’m always in awe of her.
“So, that gentlemen in a blonde wig on BET ran with an escort story today. You want me to send out a statement or two? Maybe a couple of threats of legal action for defamation of character?”
“If you do that, it would just be me feeding into his bullshit and showing him that I’m uncomfortable.”
“But aren’t you? How is Autumn reacting to all of this?”
“We had a back and forth about it when we woke up to it initially and that was it. As I said earlier today, she’s been consumed with this party so I haven’t been able to observe her reactions or to pick her brain about most of it. I’m fucking frustrated because this route he’s resorting to is low as fuck. It’s a divide and conquer through she and I. He’s going to keep applying pressure for her to crack more so than myself. He’s well aware that I’m not going to abandon my relationship and the future I want on the behalf of anyone, let alone a family that I already struggle with claiming as my own, so he’s targeting her. He’s assuming it’s but so many attacks that she and her family will be able to take. It’ll feel just as repetitive as the media nightmare that was her relationship with that coach.” A hint of chills trickled up my arms at the reality of the comparison. The last thing I need is her folks viewing me as a toxic presence in her life. They may not have been able to access Andreas enough to get him out of the picture before everything went to shit, but they’ll never allow something like that to happen again. Hell, just Lillian’s protective nature alone lets me know that she’ll take me down in any way possible whether it’s my fault or not.
“Look, you know better than I do, that there’s a lot of underhanded shit going on, so you need to get the hell out of there. At this point, you’ve involved someone else in this. With marriage comes a vow of protection. No matter what you have me doing, you better be able to hold up your end of that.”
“I’m handling it.”
“The more I dig and ask questions, the more I’m realizing that eventually, I’m going to run into something that’s going to be explosive. I feel you’re trying to figure out which wire to clip to prevent a ticking time bomb from detonating and I’m trying to do everything that I can to influence you to say fuck it, get away from it, and let it explode however it does. You’ve saved them from far more than they’ve ever deserved. You’ve put that company on your back and have catapulted them to new heights year after year. What do you get in return aside from revenue and acclaim from Bloomberg, The Wall Street Journal, or some other business insider platform? If you’re finally putting your mental health first, then walk away immediately man. I’m telling your this as your brother and as someone who has looked into more enough for you to know that this shit isn’t going to end well.”
"It’s on my mind every time I walk into that building. There are a couple of situations that I need to handle before I can began to withdraw from everything. There are trusted clients, open contracts, and a large number of relationships that I’ve built over the years that I have to accommodate and still do want to maintain even with a departure. It’s about respect more than anything else.”
“I know.”
“So that information that I sent you about the Malibu house. What is that looking like?” We glanced at one another and he took a minute to gather his thoughts about yet another request I’d given him.
“Let me keep working on that.”
I left it at that. I know him well enough to understand that if he’s still working on something, it’s going to happen whether it’s soon or with some time. If it were impossible, he would have told me already. Time isn’t something that is to be wasted, especially right now.
It seems to be of the essence more than ever.
Upon entry to the venue, it immediately felt like we stepped into a party straight out of the North Pole or somewhere deep within the arctic circle. We were surrounded by a sea of white draping from the high ceilings down to the high gloss marble flooring. Christmas trees layered every space that made sense while flocking and sparking white lights breathed an enticing life into the place. The snow machines and the LED lighting were the enhancements that took the ambiance from fun to extravagant.
“If Autumn did all of this, I can only pity your pockets when it comes time to plan the wedding. Look at that.” My eyes panned in the direction of his finger and landed on a towering LED wall with rotating images of snow in the forest, moonlight, and laser designs. It damn near made you feel like you were outdoors. An ensemble of twelve women danced us through the doors while about a twenty to twenty-five piece band played the most famous holiday tunes that we all know and sing along to for our pleasures. The line up of microphones on the stage are a sign that there’s a performance coming. Mike's right about the money that was poured into this. She definitely went into this without a care or concern about a budget but it looks damn good and with the way the champagne, wine, and spiked egg nog are floating around, this is sure to be a night to remember or…drunkenly forget. Either way, she worked damn hard to make it a fun night for all and one that will leave Isaac with acclaim and praise.
“She did an excellent job.”
As I pulled out the ghost chair to take my seat, my eyes met those of Lillian and she immediately smiled and raised her hand up to wave at me. As I responded with a wave of my own, I noticed she was making her way over and pushed the chair back in to remain standing out of respect for her presence.
“Dante. How are you? Give me a hug.” The hug was as endearing as it is when she wraps her arms around her own children and she planted a soft kiss on my forehead. She then reached for Mike.
“Why are you two sitting over here? You have a placement card at the family table.” I didn’t even think about seating arrangements when I approached this empty table. This isn’t what you would call a corporate gala or a dinner party so, a seating arrangement isn’t really key to making or breaking this evening.
“I didn’t know.”
“Well yes, come over. We’re sitting right up there.”
With all of the baseless nonsense circulating about the two of us in the rumor mill, I was sure that there would at least be one or two awkward moments between her loved ones and I, but my thoughts jumped the gun quite a bit. Instead, I was welcomed with open arms as they showered me with physical and verbal affection and carried on dialogue as if I’d been a member of the family my entire life. It seemed like the more sips of red wine Silas took, the more he elaborated on holiday memories they’ve shared over the years. Despite the bittersweet emotions swirling within everyone with every word that he spoke, we shared laughter over stories like Shane and Autumn’s failed attempts at making a snowman, Isaac needing stitches after a failed sledding prank between the siblings led to him falling off and hurting himself, and Autumn bailing on a Christmas recital in the middle of the show.
As for my lady? She never joined the table, not that I expected her to. Instead, I was left with glimpses of her beauty out of the corners of my eyes as she zipped around the room to greet and properly accommodate just about everyone who walked through those double doors. Whether it was the way her long midnight black tresses swayed with the subtle and yet natural switch in her stride or the way the lightning around the room illuminated her alluring green eyes, she captivated just about every being filled with testosterone and they lustfully ogled over her like wolves hunting prey no matter where she moved. A black pencil dress is hugging every curve her body has to offer and its length stopped mid-thigh to display her impeccable legs, which were further accentuated by her Louboutin covered feet. Instinctively, while my ears tuned in and out of the conversation happening around me, my eyes followed her as much as they were able to as she maneuvered around with a graceful smile on her face and a clipboard that I assume is filled with names and the itinerary for the evening. There seemed to be this transition from a glare of lust to one of pride as I constantly caught glimpses of her engagement ring glimmering on her left hand ring finger.
“Why don’t you just go over here instead of sitting here and torturing yourself by staring at her so hard.” I looked on as she showered Heather with a more than normal amount of love. There was a mutual excitement between the two of them that I couldn’t quite pinpoint, but the repeated motion of Autumn brushing her hand against her best friend’s stomach gave me somewhat of a hint. A glow illuminated from the both of them as they giggling all throughout whatever small conversation they were having and both walked towards the bar hand in hand to continue their banter.
“I’m about to head over there. You want a drink from the bar?”
“You know my preference. Appreciate it brother.”
By the time I stood and began to make my way through a crowd of people heading towards the dance floor, I’d lost track of Autumn once again. I’ve yet to witness a moment when she’s sat down and yet she’s continuing to trek around this place in those extremely high heels like a butterfly waltzing in the air.
“What can I get for you handsome?” My back straightened as the young bartender trailed her eyes over my chest and eventually stopped at my lips, which then evoked her to run her tongue over her own set. The tips of her fingers grazed the skin of the top of my hand and the smirk that slowly grew on her face easily matched the intense glare radiating from her eyes. Within seconds, my hands found their way into my pockets.
“Remy Martin XO if you have it.”
“Remy? That’s an interesting choice. Rich, velvety, and lingering. It goes down smooth and tends to creep up on you sometime throughout the night and next thing you know, you’re doing the unexpected. I’ve seen it happen to many people over the years.” The unexpected? My snicker was low but she didn’t miss it. She refused to miss anything, including every breath that I’m taking. She’d yet to take a step in the direction of the alcohol to seek what I requested.
“Really? Well, thankfully, it’s not for me.”
“It’s not?” Her weirdly drawn on brows went up in wonder while she pondered on where to go next with this one sided conversation.
“No.”
“Well, what can I get for you?”
“Remy Martin XO.” An additional glance toward her face allowed me to recognize her from Meridian. She’s the receptionist who always makes it her business to thoroughly explain the same exact details about servicing to me in a snail paced manner while leaning over the desk to be as close to my face as possible. If I counted out the number of women from both companies who have attempted their hand at getting to know me beyond seeing me walk in and out of the doors, I’d sound pompous and be labeled an asshole. Despite my lack of interest, I know they’ve been a playground for Matthew and the thought of dipping into anything or anyone behind him agitates me. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve had a taste of his father too.
“I’ll get that for you.” Rather than fixing the potent beverage at the back counter, she grabbed the bottle of it along with a glass, and she returned to the exact position she’d been in; on the opposite side of me with the bar’s counter serving as a barrier between our bodies.
“You enjoying yourself tonight?”
“Sure.” I shrugged. I am enjoying myself. It’s a great party. Based upon what Isaac mentioned, Boyz II Men are going to walk out on that stage within a couple of minutes and give us a full performance of Christmas hits to make it even better. Based upon the way they were ogling over Autumn in Vegas, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did the performance for free.
“I’ve always noticed you at the holiday parties but you always tend to tuck yourself into a corner somewhere and that’s where you stay. You never hit the dance floor. I see you’re at the Dupont table tonight, but you’ve still yet to hit the dance floor. You can’t be enjoying it that much.” She poured enough of the cognac in the glass to make it a double and slid it in my direction. Intentionally, her knuckles lightly grazed my own.
“Interesting observation. Maybe I’ll hit the dance floor at the next one.”
“You could always save a dance for me tonight.”
“Or me. How about you save a dance for me? I am like your sister after all.” Both our heads snapped in the direction of Heather’s tense voice. If looks could kill, the bartender would have been dead in an instant. Heather’s smirk was sinister. The more she leaned towards the bar, the further the woman on the opposite side of it leaned away from it.
“Of course I can save a dance for you. What’s up Heather?” I immediately threw am arm over her shoulder and drew her in so that we could share a hug and most of all, so she’d stop looking like she was a second away from lunging over the bar and attacking a woman who couldn’t keep my attention even while speaking to me.
“Nothing much. How are you?”
“All is well over here. How are you?”
“I’m alright. Happy to be back home. Miami is nice and I enjoy it, but I can’t front like I don’t love when I get time to come up here to the good ol’ cold and enjoy time with my families.” Most people tend to want to run away and stay away from the cold. She’s one of the first people I’ve heard who craves to feel it after having moved to a warmer climate.
“You’re spending the holiday up here?”
“Yes we lucked out. They’re playing the Knicks the day before Christmas Eve and they have no Christmas Day game. So, once he flies up here for the game, we get to stick around. Thank God. Despite my mental battle with having my folks fly down to me, I wanted to come up here because my Dupont family is here. I love them just as much as my own.”
“That’s what’s up. I’m sure Autumn is thrilled. She misses having you up here.”
“I know. I miss her just as much. That’s my right hand and sometimes I need a bit more than phone calls or FaceTime sessions sometimes. We were once inseparable but you know, the whole marriage to that piece of shit stopped that, and now I feel like we’re really working towards being like that again but with moderation of course. Back when we were in college, she transferred to UCLA to be with me. Mind you, this was after I considered transferring into NYU to be with her. I couldn’t take much more of those valley white girls. When she got married, we did hang out in Miami a lot. I’d fly down there to be with her often. I know she’d do the same for me now, but she has her own life and I’m thrilled for her. She has you. You stole my girl, but I’m okay with that.” With a nudge to my arm, she looked up at me with a smile as we stood along side one another observing the atmosphere. For the third time tonight, there was Mark Patelli standing directly in Autumn’s pathway while obnoxiously leering at her and finding unnecessary commentary to speak with her about. Every few seconds, his tongue would graze his barely there bottom lip while his eyes trailed over her entire frame. I get it. Autumn is the embodiment of everything that sex appeal is and is supposed to exude. She’s a prowess at entering a room and stealing the show without ever trying to do so. Heads turn with every move that she makes. Her smirk makes your heart jump and then the small smile that follows eventually causes it to melt. Her eyes. Shit. They’re enhancing and yet there’s this mysteriousness within them that immediately draws you into whatever part of her world she’s going to allow you into. She’s an enigma and yet like a Rubik’s cube, you cannot stop working to win her over in some kind of a way. In his case, it’s simply to be in her presence. As far the other hundred or more men in the room, it’s to get her to approach their table or maybe for a dance. Despite my understanding this, it doesn’t cease my thoughts to beat the shit out of every single one of them for staring at what’s mine in the same manner that I do. Mark is at the top of the list.
“Easy Tiger. She wants no one other than you. Mark never had a chance before you and he never will.” As if I were a once tamed animal now ready to pounce, Heather patted my back to soothe my thoughts.
“You know, she’s yet to say anything to me tonight.”
“I know. There’s a part of her that’s uncomfortable. I’m married to a NBA guy but Mario isn’t what people would call a hot shot or a star player. He’s not Lebron or Dwayne Wade. He’s no Kobe, Chris Paul, Stephen Curry, or any of those guys. He’s more of a role player and it works for him. TMZ isn’t hunting down information about him or whatever he and I have going on. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a chick or two try to come at me over him on social media but even that wasn’t blown up enough to get any coverage. Autumn on the other hand has gone from being painted as the “wild young girl” at UCLA who was fucking the head coach of the basketball team, to being the college dropout NBA wife “chasing the fast life”, to being the tossed away naive woman who “didn’t know any better and allowed a man to shit on her”, and now she’s the “gold digger rebounding with a hot shot business man”. Put yourself into her shoes and think about how you’d feel about that. She’s voiceless in this situation and she feels like it, because ultimately, what can she say or do? Yeah, people talk and it is what it is, but she doesn’t live her life in a manner for people to speak about her. She’s not clout chasing or seeking fame.” I couldn’t deny her point. I’m just as unnerved as she is about all of it and it’s not because we’re being spoken about because I couldn’t care less. It’s the context. The last thing I want her to feel is attacked and cornered but I know it’s what she’s dealing with mentally, though she won’t express it to me through conversation. I’ve sensed it in her distance from the topic at hand whenever we speak to one another and in her sudden choice to spend more nights in Jersey rather than at my apartment.
“I know. It does fuck with me that she feels that way but more than anything, she shouldn’t bottle it up. Once she’s inside of that head of hers, this happens. There’s she and I, and then this weird ass wall in-between us.”
“Break it down. That’s Autumn. She’s been that way ever since I’ve known her. The wall is her comfort zone. Shane would invade her comfort zones all the time and it’s why she learned so much from him. I do it to her when I have to. More than anything else, show her that it's you and her beyond whatever noise is surrounding you.”
“I hear you.”
“I was just talking about this with Autumn, but I figure I need to let you know this too. Autumn and I talked about our kids growing up together in the same manner that we did, so I’m going to need you to get on it. You need to hurry up and shoot up the club a couple of times, so that we won’t be that far apart.” Laugher instantly spilled out of me in response to the manner she chose to reveal her pregnancy in. Autumn did tell me about those type of conversations that we’ve had but to hear it from Heather is hilarious.
“Congratulations Heather.” Once again, we shared a tight hug and she poked my side as I released her.
“I meant what I said though. Get started on the babies. You two are going to be the coolest aunt and uncle slash godparents ever, but I want to be the thing. I want my chance.”
“I think we may miss this go round and we’ll have to catch up with you when you have your second baby. I can make a deal with you there. I can’t wait to have kids, but we have a lot going on and we still have a wedding to plan. Give us some time to get all of that handled and I have high hopes the babies will come soon after.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
“I got you.”
“And remember what I said. The love between you two is real. Don’t allow anyone or anything to get in-between that, especially some outside noise that doesn’t even matter. If anything, show them differently. Leave them with egg on their faces. You know I have y’all backs. I won’t hesitate to pop off on anyone or slap a bitch, like a bartender who doesn’t know her boundaries.” As she glanced back to seek her new found enemy, I nudged her shoulder.
“I know you do and we have your back just as much. There’s no need to slap anyone. You know who my mind is on and where I want to be no matter what.”
“Thank you for loving my friend.”
“If anything, I should be thankful that your friend loves me.”
As Boyz II Men took the stage, I return to the table and handed Mike his drink and was off to find Autumn. On my hunt, I grabbed two glasses of champagne off of a servers tray as he passed by and panned my eyes over the crowds of people until I spotted her standing near the entrance speaking with someone unfamiliar to me. My feet moved as swiftly as possible without me looking like a mad man so that I could reach her before she trekked to the other side of the room or somewhere within this vicinity and out of my view.
“Hello beautiful.” Maybe I should have waited until their conversation was over or maybe I should have properly interjected whatever they were saying to receive her attention, but I couldn’t help myself and didn’t care.
“Hi.” A gleam filled her eyes as she panned over my attire and I extended my arm to offer her the champagne flute. My attire for the evening had all been her choice. I assume she’s pleased with her work.
“That drink that we spoke about earlier.”
“Thank you.” Once it was in her hand, that allowed me to wrap an arm around her waist. “If you’ll excuse me Dr. Patel.”
Within seconds of us turning to walk away, that very drink I’d handed her went down her throat within one swallow and a flustered expression washed over her face as I looked on awaiting some type of interaction from her. Without knowing it initially, it seems like I stepped in with perfect timing to distract her from whatever was being said and yet I’m beyond curious about all of it because her reaction isn’t what I was expecting.
“My hand has been fucking with me tonight. Maybe it’s because I’m beyond tired.” As she lifted it within eyes view, I could see the tremor that typically makes itself noticeable whenever she’s dealing with stress or exhaustion. Often times, she’ll squeeze a stress ball for strength and training. “Dr. Patel noticed of course and she immediately jumped into that conversation we’ve had over and over again about allowing her surgeon friend to fix this issue with what she says is a simple operation. She’s not even my damn doctor, she’s my mother’s friend. Oh and then there’s that part that maybe, just maybe I’ll be able to return to school to go after my medical school dreams again but she certainly made it clear that I’d only be able to be a psychiatrist, dermatologist, or some kind of a general practitioner because I wouldn’t be able to do anything surgical since I have a fucked up hand.”
“Baby, you can do whatever the hell you want to do. Some stupid ass doctor’s opinion doesn’t change that.” If we weren’t at a party, I’d have no issue with approaching that short and stumpy doctor to repeat that same message to her. Everything that she’s faced hasn’t stopped her greatness from shining through despite her reluctance and insecurities. Despite everything, Autumn continues to prove that she’s destined for a greatness that not even she sees or understands right now. With my love for her aside, I’m in awe of her and I know it’s not without reason.
“One of the most renowned doctors in this fucking state? That opinion doesn’t matter?”
“I wouldn’t give a shit if it were Barack Obama’s opinion.”
“This goes back to our conversation from a few days ago. Everything just rolls off of your shoulders and is no big deal to you. This shrug and whatever mentality works for you and everyone else in this room, but it’s not going to work for someone like myself.”
“And why won’t it? You give too many fucks about what people have to say. How do you feel about yourself? That’s the most important question that you should ask yourself whenever the irrelevant opinions of others gets to you.”
“Right. So while Wendy Williams labeled me as your whore, I should have been staring in the mirror and asking myself that question?”
“Are you my whore?” A tightness eased into my chest as my shoulders tightened. Our brows arose in unison as she glared at me in the same manner I was at her. Though the question had absolutely no intention to insult her behind it, it irked me that I even had to ask it.
“What kind of fucking question is that?”
“Answer it. Are you?”
“I’m not.”
“Then who are you to me?”
“You know exactly what I am to you.” Her arms flared out in an exaggerated manner and loudly slapped into her sides as she huffed in clear irritation with the way this interaction is going. Good. Now she knows how I feel.
“But do you? Who are you to me?”
“Your fiancée.”
“My fiancée. The woman that I got down on one knee and asked to marry me. The woman who I love more than anyone and any got damn thing. Wendy whoever gets to spew bullshit and put a cloud of darkness over that? You’re so caught up in being mad about that instead of being within this room with me. All I’ve been doing is watching you walk around here without ever stepping over in my direction to give me a hello. If anything, you’re feeding into narratives that shouldn’t even exist in our world. You’re treating me like a stranger because people ignorantly accused us of being strangers who fuck one another.  Now we’re standing here bickering back and forth over opinions that have absolutely nothing to do with either one of us when all I wanted to do was to approach you for a few minutes of your time.”
“Autumn!” Rachel exclaimed her name loud enough to turn our heads while catching the attention of a few others. With a clipboard in her hand, she adamantly waved her over for whatever task that needed to be handled.
“I have to go.”
“Sure. It’s not like we’ve had much interaction tonight to begin with. I can make a valid argument for the last week or so as well. You enjoying home?”
“We don’t live together.”
“A choice that you made.”  
“And I’m working.”
“Another choice that you made. Was it so we didn’t have to attend this together?”
“You sound so stupid.”
“Do I?”
My question went unanswered. Instead, my line of vision was met with her back as she jogged in Rachel’s direction to tend to whatever she wanted or needed. Just as she did, I tossed all of the content inside of the champagne glass down my throat and left it on a nearby empty tray.
My final move was to wave Mike over so that we could make our exit.
I’d had enough of the party.
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