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#Luckily another fan shared a screen-recording of it so I was able to tell when the music kicked in in the original
royalarchivist · 5 months
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Pac: I'm not going to say anything to you guys [Chat], I'm not going to say anything to you. I'm not saying absolutely anything, I'm not going to comment. Man, you broke me here, you broke me in 3 parts! I'm not going to- no no no no no, I won't fall for your game, I won't fall for your game.*
Pac's chat allows viewers to make music requests, which led to this very well-timed moment today where Careless Whisper started playing as soon as Pac met back up with Fit.
* [Approximate translation. I'm not a native Portuguese speaker, so as always, please feel free to let me know if there's a better way to translate things!]
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skiller0dani · 3 years
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Bad Girl| Ethan Nestor
MASTERLIST YouTube Masterlist
smut requested requests info
hey guys it's been a while! Got this amazing request recently and I had to write it asap. love you all xx
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Ethan didn't have many rules for you, but the most important one by far was to not bother him while he's streaming.
With the two of you keeping your relationship a secret there's just too much that can go wrong. He's live so if you came into the room, people could hear, rumors could start. More than anything Ethan wants to protect you so you coming into his recording room while he's streaming is completely out of the question. Normally you respected this rule without question, it was his YouTube channel after all, so he got to call the shots. More than that however, Ethan called the shots in other aspects of your life.
When it came to the sex, he called the shots in that too. But you always did what he said, and frankly, you felt like being a bad girl.
All day you've needed him, from the very second you woke up and the gentle morning sex he'd provided wasn't nearly enough to satiate you. You still felt that uncomfortable throbbing from between your thighs, and it lingered for most of the day. Any attempt you made to get his cock resulted in a soft kiss on the head and a "sorry baby I'm too busy today."
You laid back on the couch, irked to all hell. How could Ethan not see that he was depriving you? You pushed the heel of your hands into your eyes and groaned, your pussy was damp and aching and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it. Spencer sat happily at your feet chewing on a squeaky bone. At least one of you was happy.
You heard Ethan laugh from inside his recording room, he was currently streaming Among Us. You feel so frustrated you want to cry and when you glance at the clock you feel like crying all over again. It's only 1:30, and Ethan is only 20 minutes into his stream. Meaning at this rate Ethan won't be able to help you until later tonight. You whined to yourself, snaking your hand under the sleep shorts you were wearing. Your fingers found your clit and you began to rub small circles just like Ethan does. It does little to nothing to relieve the pounding in your core. Only Ethan can.
You stand from your spot on the couch to go grab a bottle of water, hoping that some cold water will help calm you down. You lean against the counter, sipping at the cold water when you remember the night before. Ethan had come home from filming with someone he doesn't know very well. The recording session was frustrating and he hadn't gotten any good footage, meaning the entire day was a giant waste of time. By the time Ethan had gotten back to the house he was beyond frustrated and the first thing he did was bend you over the kitchen counter and slam into you mercilessly. You feel a shudder run down your spine at the memory and you groan softly in annoyance. You're not going to survive the day like this.
You went upstairs and into your shared room with Ethan and sat on the edge of the bed, you're always such a good girl. You followed every rule and every command without too much complaint. And today Ethan told you to wait. His rule today was to be a good girl and wait for his cock until that night. But damnit you're so turned on right now you feel like you're going to combust into flames.
You don't want to be a good girl today. You feel like breaking the rules.
With a smirk you stand from the bed and creep down the hallway, nearing his recording room. Once you're stood outside the door you feel a rush of adrenaline rush through you, you've never broken this rule before. In all 12 months of your relationship with Ethan, you've never interrupted him while he's live streaming. You almost turn back but when you hear Ethan groan in annoyance it sends tingles down your spine and a fresh wave of arousal dampening your panties. Gritting your teeth you quietly open the door and watch as Ethan's surprised eyes flicker to you for a second.
You bite your lip and sink to the floor, luckily Ethan's desk doesn't have a back so you easily crawl underneath it.
Being careful not to bump the desk you slowly crawl in between Ethan's legs, and he instinctively spreads his legs wider for you. When he glances back down at you, you feel heat rush through your entire body at the angry look in his eyes. He raises a warning brow before turning back to the game and for a second you consider leaving, but the pulsing from between your legs stops you. You bite your lip and reach forward, carefully unbuttoning Ethan’s jeans and slowly pulling his zipper down. 
Ethan tenses, his heart hammering in his chest as he does his best to act natural. This isn’t a regular video, he can’t edit anything out. This is being broadcasted live to nearly a million people. When he feels your dainty hands reaching into his jeans he sucks in a breath through his teeth. 
“Ethan you okay?” Bob asks, unfortunately for Ethan they decided to play Among Us with proximity chat on. Ethan clears his throat, “yeah stubbed my toe.” He lies but he knows it doesn’t sound very convincing. 
You wrap your hand around his hardening cock and you nearly moan when you finally free it from his jeans. The sight of it makes you even more wet then you were before, it’s hard and precumming. It’s beautiful. You lean forward instantly and wrap your lips around the head, sucking softly. Ethan clenches his jaw as he focuses all of his attention on the game in front of him. He keeps his eyes firmly on the screen because he knows if he looks at you it’s game over. Ethan would end the stream and have you bent over this desk in less than 30 seconds if he saw the beautiful sight happening under the desk. 
You keep your lips wrapped around him as you suddenly take all of him in your mouth. Ethan gasps softly in surprise, and this is when he notices the comments on his stream. 
Ethan flashes a smile to the camera, doing his best to pretend he doesn’t notice that every single comment is about him and not about the game. Embarrassment floods through Ethan’s body as he keeps his eyes on his monitor. You continue to slide him down your throat, and Ethan’s eyes briefly flutter shut. When one comment pops up, Ethan panics. 
what’s wrong Ethan???  he looks like he’s in pain  someone should tell the other people on the stream bc ethan does not look okay right now ethan are you okay? 
Shit. Ethan continues to ignore the comments, when did his fan base become little detectives? You bob your head down the full length of his cock, taking him into your mouth fully. It’s becoming increasingly harder to keep the sounds quiet so that nobody notices. When you swallow around him Ethan groans softly, “fuck.” 
does eef have a girl over?? ;)  omg ethan’s totally getting sucked off rn ngl ethan looks super fucking hot 
“Ethan?” This time it’s Mark. You pull off Ethan and smirk as you pump his cock with your hand. The arousal is coating your thighs at this point and you nearly moan out loud just thinking about what Ethan is going to do to you after this. 
“Ethan I’m getting some pretty interesting comments on my stream about you,” Jack says with a teasing tone to his voice. Ethan remains quiet, he doesn’t trust himself to say anything casually. “Got some company Ethan?” Jack says causing a chorus of laughter to ensue afterwards while everyone waits for another round to start. “His silence is...suspicious.” Steven adds through the laughter. 
Unable to focus any longer, Ethan releases a breath he’d been holding as he finally glances down at you. The sight before him stops him cold, you’re sitting on your knees with his cock in your mouth. Your breasts are spilling from the tight tank top you’re wearing and he can see the damp spot forming on the crotch of your shorts. His pupils blow wide as he quickly ends the stream and turns off the camera. The second he’s sure everything is shut off he pushes back from the desk and yanks you to your feet. 
“You think that was funny?” Ethan growls when he sees the smirk on your face. In an instant Ethan has you pulled over his lap, “you think it was funny to suck my cock when I was live? I can’t cover any of that up baby.” Ethan says, his voice low as his hands find the waistband of your shorts. 
“I need you.” You whined as he yanked your shorts down. Ethan hummed in satisfaction once he sees your glistening pussy. “Yes I can see that.” He hums, spreading your lips apart so he can look at you better. 
“I just fucked you this morning baby girl, you couldn’t wait? I’m pretty sure I told you to wait until tonight.” He says, the dominance beginning to seep into his tone. You moaned in delight when you feel Ethan spank you hard. “I couldn’t wait Ethan, I needed you now.” You explain, with a pout on your face. 
“Now all my friends know what a dirty girl you are, and now so do all my fans as well. We aren’t going to be a secret anymore baby, you just outed us.” Ethan explains, his fingertips brushing through your folds. You whine desperately as you try to grind back into his hand, but he pulls away. “It was time baby, oh my god Ethan please just fuck me please.” You plead shamelessly. 
Ethan continues to rub the globes of your ass as you moan and wriggle in his lap, “hm I’m not sure you deserve it now baby. You didn’t listen to me, I’m not sure you deserve my cock anymore.” He says, a small smirk on his face when he sees the look of pure desperation cross onto your face. “No Ethan please, I’ll listen now. I-I will I promise baby!” Ethan taps on your hip, signaling you to stand. Once your stood in front of him you moan again, you’ve never seen him look sexier then he does right now. 
His hair is messy and his chest his heaving, but the best part is between his legs. His cock is hard and his legs are spread wide, and the heated look Ethan is giving you makes you want to melt into the floor. “Go wait for me in our room.” Is all Ethan says, and you immediately scramble out of the room and down to hall to yours and Ethan’s bedroom. You sit on the bed and anxiously wait for him, your entire body buzzing in anticipation. When 10 agonizing minutes pass Ethan finally opens the door, his jeans still opened. “I’ve thought of a fitting punishment for you Princess.” 
Ethan walks to his side of the bed before sitting down, pulling you to stand in front of him. “Since you don’t seem to like my rules, why don’t you be in charge then baby?” Your heart sinks, and you immediately shake your head. 
“But I love it when you’re in control, I love following your rules.” You argue but Ethan shakes his head with a teasing smile on his face. 
“I seem to have lost my authority, you don’t listen to me anymore baby. So you try being in charge, tell me what to do.” Ethan reaches forward and yanks you towards him. You fall against his chest, your lips a hairs length from him, “boss me around.” He whispers and you swallow a thick lump in your throat. You stand again, feeling anxious and unsure of what to do. Normally Ethan tells you what to do, but he just relinquished all control to you and you already hate it. 
Ethan watches with knowing eyes, he knows already that you have no idea what to do. “Well? What do you want me to do baby?” Ethan asks, watching the blush crawl up your neck and tint the edges of your ears. You tremble, “um...I-” you feel your throat close as tears well in your eyes. In a second Ethan is pulling you into his arms, smoothing your hair down and pressing kisses to your head. You melt into his embrace while he mumbles loving words into your hair. “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to upset you.” Ethan whispers, pressing soft kisses to your head. 
“Is that how you felt on the stream? Embarrassed?” You ask hesitantly and to your dismay, Ethan nods. 
“Kinda, but it’s okay baby.” You lean up to press a kiss to his lips. 
“I’ve learned my lesson, I promise. I know why you make those rules now.” You say softly and Ethan brushes hair out of your face with a small smile. “Can you be in charge again?” Instead of answering Ethan flashes you a smile before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
“Lay down baby.” In an instant the heat floods through your body again as you scramble to lay down on the bed. Ethan stands and swiftly yanks his shirt over his head, and motions for you to do the same. Sitting up you quickly pull your shirt off, watching as Ethan kicks his jeans and boxers off as well. Ethan hovers over you, and you feel his cock nudging at your entrance and in an instant you spread your legs wider for him. Ethan slides just the head of his cock into you and he stills. You wriggle your hips, “Ethan please,” You beg in a gasp. 
Cupping your cheeks, Ethan turns your head to look him in the eyes. “No more bothering me while I’m live got it?” He says and you nod instantaneously. With one sharp thrust, Ethan slides the rest of the way in and both of you release a moan. Pressing his lips to yours he begins to thrust into you and you feel the heat building already. You wrap your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back as he slowly picks up speed. Ethan pulls out, “bend over.” He gasps and you move to bend over the bed, already missing the stretch his cock provided. As soon as you’re bent over in front of him, Ethan grasps your hips and thrusts back into you. 
Your face is pressed into the bed as you cry out softly, Ethan slamming into you again and again. “Fucking took my dick in your mouth in front of the entire world, you’re lucky they only saw me. If anyone else saw how beautiful you look with a cock in your mouth I think I’d lose my mind.” Ethan growls and you can only moan in response as your fists twist the sheets in your hands. You feel the coil in your abdomen winding tighter and tighter and when Ethan reaches around your body to softly pinch your clit you’re crying out and convulsing around him, leading him to his orgasm as well. You collapse against the bed and Ethan rubs a hand up and down your back before gently pulling out with a wince. 
He helps you into bed and lays down next to you, pulling your bare body against his chest. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.” You say softly, but Ethan merely presses a kiss to your lips. 
“Only a little, I couldn’t be bothered too much I mean you were sucking my dick. Doesn’t get better than that.” Ethan shrugs, causing you to blush. You sit up when Ethan stands from the bed, reaching around for his clothes. 
“Now if your unusually high sex drive has been fully satisfied, I have some explaining to do.” Ethan teases, causing you to giggle. With a kiss to your sweaty forehead Ethan is exiting the room, and you lay back against the bed with the widest smile stretched across your face. 
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nicknellie · 3 years
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Anonymous requested: Julie and the Phantoms are on tour and Juke are dating, one stop on tour Luke gets sick  (woke up with fever, swollen glands, sore throat etc) and the doctor diagnoses him with strep and an ear infection and Julie takes care his stubborn butt back to the hotel because he doesn't like to let down the fans since they have to cancel few shows.
Anonymous requested: alive guys, out of school in the real world, now all living in an apartment together. The 5 Times Luke Was Sick, and The 5 Times Julie Cured Him and maybe add in the 1 time Luke returns the favour of taking care of Julie.
Anonymous requested: Luke and Julie are married and have a daughter (Rose, 3). Rose and Luke end up waking up sick with the flu and Julie takes care of them, and she gets worn down from doing everything and caring for them. And even with him being sick in bed he lays with Rose when Julie’s beat and cuddles her when she feels sick even though he feels the same. Cute family fluff basically.
We Will Fight To Shine Together
The entire week had been hectic. Julie – along with her boys, Luke, Alex, and Reggie – had finally got the keys to their new apartment and had spent the whole of the previous two days hauling their belongings there from their respective homes. Ray Molina, protective as always, had been breathing down their necks in a frantic and worried attempt to help them out, the presence of Willie and Flynn had resulted in less unpacking and more Cardboard Box Wars, and most of their things were strewn about in unlikely places after the chaos of unpacking; just that morning Julie had found Alex’s drumsticks in the fridge.
But they were finally there, they were finally home, and there was nothing to worry about. Everything in the apartment seemed to be in order, they weren’t set to go on tour for another six months so the stress of that was still a way off, and the band’s new-found sense of freedom and independence hung over them like a rainbow. There was nothing that could have gone wrong. Nothing except–
“Dude, you look sick! And not in the good way.”
Julie had been sat atop the kitchen counter, watching Alex prepare their breakfast, but she looked towards the door when she heard Reggie’s exclamation. Stood in the doorway, bundled in about four hoodies, his eyes bloodshot and his nose running, was Luke. Reggie was right – he looked as if he were about to keel over and die. His puppy dog eyes were wide and watery and he looked utterly dreadful.
“Luke,” Julie said, hopping off the counter and heading over to him. “Are you feeling alright?”
He shook his head and sniffled pathetically. “I’m sick,” he grumbled.
“Yeah, you look it,” Julie said. She took his hand and gently led him towards a kitchen chair. He collapsed into it with a relieved sigh as if he couldn’t have bared standing any longer.
To Julie’s surprise (and slight annoyance) Alex and Reggie were laughing.
“You must have the weakest immune system known to man,” Alex joked as he put the group’s breakfast onto plates.
“On the bright side, Willie owes me ten dollars,” Reggie said with a beam. “I bet him you wouldn’t last two weeks before getting sick.”
Julie put her hands on her hips and glared at the two boys who immediately ceased their laughter. She knew she could be quite terrifying when she wanted to and she didn’t like abusing that power too much, but this was a situation she felt called for it.
“You two are seriously lacking compassion,” she scolded, pointing to and from Alex and Reggie. “Your friend is ill and all you can do is laugh at him. It’s mean – he has it difficult enough right now.”
Luke, pouting pathetically, nodded in agreement.
Alex and Reggie, both looking suitably chastised, muttered, “Sorry Julie.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t apologise to me.”
“Sorry Luke.”
“That’s better,” she said. Julie took herself out of Mother Mode and returned to Supportive Girlfriend. She gently ran her fingers through Luke’s hair – he relaxed a little as her touch. “I’m going to take you back to bed, you’re going to get some rest while I look up your symptoms, and then I’m going to take care of you.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “It’s probably just a cold. You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t, but I’m going to. Come on.”
Julie sent one more cutting glare to Reggie and Alex before helping Luke stand and leading him back through their little apartment to their shared bedroom. She eased him back into the bed, helped him make a half-nest-half-fort with the pillows and duvet, then grabbed her laptop and set up YouTube for him. Then, she pulled up a tab on her phone and sat beside him on the bed.
“Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” she asked.
Luke shook his head.
“Are you feeling dizzy at all?”
“A little bit,” he croaked.
She smiled knowingly. “Sore throat too?”
He closed his eyes and nodded.
Julie asked him more questions, then determined that because of the stress of moving his immune system had utterly crashed and some nasty bug had seized the opportunity. According to the internet, he needed plenty of bed rest, he should have been kept warm, he needed a lot of water, and most of all he simply needed to not do anything for a while.
“But we’re supposed to go to the studio tomorrow to record a bunch of songs,” Luke protested when Julie told him. He sat up abruptly, but eased himself back down, a hand rested against his forehead, wincing.
“You’re not going anywhere like that,” Julie told him. “I’ll call the studio and let them know we’ll have to record your parts a different time. Don’t say anything,” she commanded as he opened his mouth to argue again. “I’m not changing my mind.”
He grumbled something she couldn’t quite hear but assumed was something childishly rude – it had certainly sounded as if he’d been mocking her voice. She ignored him and instead headed back out to the kitchen. Julie grabbed painkillers and a large glass of water and took them back to Luke who had started a long YouTube playlist of Bondi Rescue videos.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be sitting in front of a screen if you’re dizzy,” Julie contemplated, handing him the tablets and the drink. Luke looked up at her with a mixture of sadness and fury in his eyes.
“I’ve already lost my health, I can’t lose Bondi Rescue too,” he said.
She breathed a laugh and sat back down beside him. He immediately melted into her side, his head rested against her abdomen. She stroked her fingers through his hair and felt him sigh at the touch.
He was asleep within minutes.
*
Julie and the Phantoms were on tour. It was a moment they had all been anticipating ever since they’d inducted Julie into the band. The four of them had saved up enough money to buy their own tour bus emblazoned with their faces and the band’s logo and were spending nine months driving across the United States and Canada to perform their show to sold-out crowds. Julie could hardly believe it was happening.
Right that moment, part of her wished it weren’t happening.
Julie had been led to understand that before she joined the band and became the responsible one, Alex was the ‘parental figure’ who had kept Luke and Reggie (both far more boisterous by nature) in check. If anyone had told her that on the second leg of their tour, she would not have believed it for a moment. Alex was sat in the passenger seat beside her, but was leaning over the back of it to swat at Reggie who was kicking the back of his seat. Both were calling each other childish names and their hands were flapping about like they were having a catfight. Julie had given up trying to stop them about two hundred miles ago.
Looking after them sometimes felt like having a pair of toddlers. Though more often it was like having three toddlers because Luke would find a way to join in on the shenanigans. But right then, in the backseat beside Reggie, he was oddly quiet.
“Luke,” Julie called over Alex and Reggie’s squabbling, readjusting the mirror so she could see Luke behind her. “You okay?”
Luke nodded then tried to clear his throat. “Yeah,” he said, voice gravelly. “Sore throat, that’s all.”
Julie frowned. “Are you sure? You don’t sound good. Will you be able to sing for tomorrow’s show?”
His eyes widened frantically at the mention of the performance. “Of course! I’ll be fine, it’s just a sore throat.”
It was, unfortunately, very clearly not just a sore throat.
Julie pulled the tour bus into the parking lot of their hotel and the gang all headed to their rooms. Julie and Luke were sharing, partially to save money and partially because they wanted to. Before they went to sleep, Julie checked again with Luke to see if he was alright and again he told her in that rough voice that he was fine.
However, when they woke up Luke seemed distinctly worse for wear. He was radiating heat like the sun but shivering as if he were in the arctic, he was complaining of pain in his right ear, and when Julie looked down his throat she saw that his tonsils were swollen and covered in white spots.
“You’re not going on stage like this,” she said, shaking her head. “No way. I’m calling a doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” Luke insisted, attempting to hoist himself into a sitting position but giving up quickly. “It’s just a sore throat.”
“You can try telling me that again when you can swallow more than a drop of water,” Julie said before picking up her phone and calling the nearest doctor.
Luckily, the doctor was able to come out to the hotel so Luke didn’t have to even get out of bed. The doctor took one look at his symptoms, then turned to Julie.
“Looks like strep throat,” they said, snapping their latex gloves off. “The pain in the ear is because of an ear infection that came after the bacteria travelled from the throat to the middle ear. I’m going to prescribe him a course of antibiotics, he’ll need to take them all otherwise the infection will come back stronger. I recommend he doesn’t perform for at least another month to give the infection ample time to heal.”
“A month?” Luke tried to yell, but it came out as an outraged breathy whisper.
“Yes,” the doctor said, looking down at him over their glasses. “Your infection is particularly severe, Mr Patterson, and if you want to finish your tour then I suggest you take my advice.”
“We can’t cancel shows,” Luke protested weakly. “Think of how excited everyone’s been…”
Julie smiled to the doctor and saw them out of the room. “Thank you very much,” she said. “I’ll make sure he gets those antibiotics and plenty of rest.”
Once the doctor was gone, Julie called Flynn, the official manager for Julie and the Phantoms and Julie’s lifelong best friend. “Cancel every show for the next month,” she instructed. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Are you alright, Jules?” Flynn said, immediately sounding concerned. “I can come over and take care of you, whatever you need, I’ll book a flight right now–”
“I’m fine, Flynn,” Julie assured her. “It’s Luke. He’s got strep.”
“Oh no.” Flynn’s worry morphed into something akin to disappointment. “He’s literally the worst one of you guys to get ill right now.”
“Tell me about it. He’s furious that we’ve even suggested cancelling the shows.”
“He gets it’s for his own good, right?” Flynn asked.
Julie shook her head even though Flynn couldn’t see her. “He knows that but he doesn’t want to let everyone down. He’s been more excited for the tour than the fans have – he doesn’t want any of it to go wrong and this is about as wrong as it could go.”
“I’m sure he’ll get over it once the ‘get well soon’ messages start arriving,” Flynn said.
“I think that’ll just make it worse,” Julie countered. “Anyway, it’s fine. There’s nothing we can do. Just make sure everyone knows the next shows are cancelled.”
“You got it, boss. Good luck with Luke.”
“I’ll need it.”
Julie hung up on Flynn and headed back towards Luke. He was still sat up in the bed, looking very sorry for himself as he pouted with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Hey,” she said softly, crouching down next to his side of the bed. “I’m going to make you some hot honey and lemon water – my mom always made it for me when I got a sore throat. It’ll help, I promise. Is there anything else you want?”
“I want to do the shows,” he said petulantly.
Julie shook her head firmly. “You heard the doctor – none of us are going on any stage for another month. Flynn’s cancelling the shows as we speak.”
Luke looked aghast. “No!”
“Yes. You’re sick, Luke. And think about it; if this were me or Alex or Reggie in your position, what would you say to do?”
“I’d say we should cancel the shows until you got better,” he said as if the answer were obvious, then he seemed to hear his own words and deflated a little. “Fine. I suppose this is for the best. I… I just feel like I’m letting everyone down.”
Julie intertwined their fingers and held his hand tightly. She gave him a soft, reassuring smile. “You aren’t letting anybody down, Luke. It’s not your fault that you’re sick and there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. All that can be done is for you to rest and take your meds so that the next shows we do are as good as they can be. Okay?”
He rolled his eyes sighed, but there was the tiniest smile playing about his lips. “Okay.”
*
Julie had said it was a bad idea from the very beginning, but the boys had insisted that they’d done it before and it was perfectly safe.
It felt good to be proven right, but less good to be vomited on.
The first problem was that there was definitely not enough room anywhere in their tiny apartment for three grown men to attempt the famous lift from Dirty Dancing. Julie had pointed that out. She had pointed it out almost a dozen times. Every time, Reggie had told her that they didn’t actually need a lot of space, trust me.
The second problem was that their heights simply didn’t add up to a safe lift. Luke and Reggie were of a similar build, but Alex was much taller and there wasn’t really anywhere for him to go – if he held up one of the guys, they’d be held at an angle; if he were the one on top, he would likely crush the other two.
The third and final problem was that none of the boys were dancers and had no training or experience, therefore none of them knew how to do the lift properly and safely. Julie had stretched this argument to its breaking point but the three idiots had not heeded her warning.
And so they had done the lift.
It had started out strong. They had decided that Alex would be the one in the air, so Luke and Reggie had got into position with their hands outstretched and Alex had taken a great running start and leapt at them. To their credit, the boys held Alex in the air for a solid three seconds before Reggie lost his balance and Luke’s grip slipped, and the three of them went tumbling to the ground.
Julie watched in unsurprised horror as Alex fell flat on top of Reggie and scrambled to get off him, while Luke dropped far too close to the dining table and whacked his head on its corner with a grotesque thud.
He was out cold.
Julie muttered a curse and hurried towards him. Alex and Reggie gathered around slowly too, warily looking down at Luke, clearly feeling guilty.
“Luke?” Julie said to the unconscious lump in her lap. He was heavier than he looked – she privately understood why they had decided to lift Alex instead. “Can you hear me, sweetie?”
After a few more minutes, Luke came to, groaning and cradling his head.
“Hey,” Alex said, smiling brightly. “You’re awake! Sorry about that, we–”
Alex didn’t get to finish his sentence because Luke interrupted him by loudly and violently throwing up on Alex’s shoes. A little bit hit Julie’s dress and she quickly yanked the fabric out of the way.
Alex looked at his shoes disappointedly. After a long while he said, “I am going to the bathroom. Either to shower or be sick, I’m not sure yet,” and then disappeared.
Reggie was a deathly shade of green, staring at Luke and the vomit.
“If you don’t like it you can go, Reggie,” Julie said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
Reggie nodded and followed Alex out of the room, wide-eyed.
“Let’s get you to bed, huh?” Julie said. Luke nodded vaguely, his eyes far away, and she led him through the apartment to their bedroom. She only just managed to get him into bed before he started slipping into unconsciousness again.
It was plain as day that Luke had a nasty concussion. Julie tucked him into bed, then switched off the lights and drew the curtains so that it was almost pitch black. She got him an enormous glass of water and readied all the painkillers she could find, as well as grabbing a large bowl so that he didn’t have to run to the bathroom if he needed to be sick again. Then she looked up concussion on her phone – it said that if he’d woken up after being knocked out then he needed to go to hospital; she wasn’t sure how she was meant to get him there now that he was unconscious again.
Julie decided to wait until he woke up again. She laid down beside him on the bed and pressed the gentlest of kisses to his forehead.
“You’re such an idiot,” she whispered. “I love you.”
*
Julie loved her boys usually, but sometimes she really believed they lacked the common sense necessary for general survival.
“You did what?!”
Luke, Alex, and Reggie looked between each other frantically, stuttering for excuses.
“Uuuuhhhh…”
“Nothing really out of the ordinary, I don’t think.”
“Pretty sure it was actually you who did something they shouldn’t have.”
Julie raised her hands and the boys silenced. She glared at them, half furious and half exasperated.
“Are you seriously telling me – or rather not telling me – that after all the times I specifically told you it would be a bad idea, you went and got hotdogs that were being sold out of the back of an Oldsmobile?”
“In our defence,” Reggie piped up, raising his hand like a kid answering a question in class, “they smelled really good.”
“Wish they’d tasted as good as they smelled,” Luke grumbled. Alex hit him.
“I have never met anyone with less common sense!” Julie yelled, waving her arms. “What is wrong with you? What made you think it’d be a good idea? How did you not think that it was the dodgiest set up for any fast food ever?”
“Relax,” Reggie said, “street dogs haven’t killed us yet.”
The highly questionable hotdogs did not, in fact, kill them. However, the next day all three boys were overcome with food poisoning so horrible that Julie simply could not take care of them all by herself.
That morning she sent a quick text to Willie to offload Alex to him: Come and get your dumb boyfriend, he and his idiot friends ate bad hotdogs and got sick, you can take one. Twenty minutes later, Willie showed up to take Alex back to his apartment, an ungodly amount of blankets in his hands when he arrived at the apartment.
Reggie was the least ill – he could pretty much take care of himself and at the very least he wasn’t throwing up everywhere. He stayed on the couch, watching some cartoon on repeat. Julie let him be.
Luke, on the other hand, was quite the task. He was feeling and looking absolutely dreadful, unable to move himself from his bed and being sick whenever he tried to do so much as drink a glass of water. Julie truly had her hands full trying to take care of him.
Despite his protests, she called the studio and cancelled their appointment with Luke today. He was in no fit state to record any hit songs right then; he could hardly even open his mouth without sick coming out of it.
Feeling particularly frazzled, Julie finally allowed herself a little break from rushing around after Luke to relax, just for a moment. She settled herself comfortably onto the bed beside Luke once his sickness had calmed down a bit and fired up Netflix. She could feel his doleful eyes on her as she selected a movie and let it play.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked.
“Are you apologising for being sick or for eating those hotdogs even though I told you not to?” she questioned.
Luke had the good grace to look a little ashamed. “Both.”
Julie shifted a little to wrap her arms around Luke’s midriff. “Don’t apologise for being sick. It is your fault, but don’t say sorry for it. I will accept your apology for disobeying me though.”
Luke rested his head against Julie’s shoulders, shuffling further into the covers. “We should have listened to you, I know. But if you could have just smelled those hotdogs…”
“Yeah, I’m sure they smelled great mingling with the stench of petrol,” Julie deadpanned. “I’m starting to think you three need constant adult supervision.”
“We are adults.”
“That’s why I’m so worried.”
Luke huffed a laugh, but then frowned. “I feel bad. You’re always the one taking care of me. Just once I want to take care of you.”
Julie raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want me to get sick?”
“No, no, I didn’t mean that,” he said hurriedly, even though Julie had been joking. “I just meant that you do such a good job with this every time. I want to give you a break.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Julie assured him. “But… if I ever do get sick, I’ll make sure to come straight to you and you can take care of me. Deal?”
“Deal,” Luke said with a soft smile.
*
It had been many years since Luke had been really sick. Julie had naively thought that maybe they’d get lucky and he’d never be sick again. Maybe his laughable immune system had finally caught up and had strengthened itself against what most people could avoid easily.
Wishful thinking.
Flu season was set to ruin Julie’s life. She had woken up one Monday morning and followed her usual routine, heading to her daughter’s bedroom to wake her up for preschool. She had shaken little Rose awake, but the three-year-old had been extremely hot.
“Oh, sweetie,” Julie had said gently. “Are you feeling sick?”
Rose, rubbing her teary tired eyes, had nodded and cried very quietly.
Julie had pulled her into a hug. “Okay, honey. You go back to sleep. It’s alright.”
She laid Rose back down, tucked her back in, and encouraged her to sleep. It took a long time and a lot of tears from Rose, but eventually the little girl drifted back into a fitful slumber. Feeling like all she wanted to do was go to sleep herself, Julie headed back to her own bedroom and shook Luke awake.
“Luke,” she whispered. “Rose is sick. I’m going to call the preschool and tell them she won’t be in, but then I’ve got to get to the studio. You think you can take care of her today?”
Luke sleepily opened his eyes and groaned as he shifted into a sitting position. He held a hand to his head – it looked far too similar to him steadying his balance for Julie’s liking.
She sighed. “Please don’t tell me you’re sick as well?”
Luke tried for a smile. “No, no, I’m alright. I’ll take care of Rose, don’t worry.”
He tried to swing himself out of bed, but Julie didn’t miss the way that the sudden movement made him wince. That and the fact that he clapped a hand to his mouth, the other held over his stomach. Unsteadily, he got to his feet and headed to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back to the bedroom looking sheepish.
“I’m sick too,” he said quietly.
Julie sighed haggardly and looked to the alarm clock on her bedside table. She needed to be at the studio to start her recording session in half an hour, but no part of her was willing to leave her husband and daughter alone while both of them were seeming awfully ill. She quickly made her decision.
“You get back to bed,” she said gently to Luke, taking his hand and leading him back to the bed.
“No, I need to get Rose,” he said, but he grudgingly followed her.
“I’m going to get Rose,” Julie told him as she sat him down and tucked him in. “I’ll bring her here and you can stay snuggled up together. I’ll call the preschool, run some errands, and I’ll check on you both later, okay?”
Luke nodded and lifted Julie’s hand to his lips as if to kiss it, then seemed to think better of it and dropped it. “Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Julie went back to Rose’s room. The little girl was fast asleep, wriggling around a little as she dreamt, her black curls that were the same as her mother’s spread out over her pillow. Gently, Julie picked her up and held her tightly to her chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as she carried her to her own bedroom.
Luke smiled as Julie entered the room with Rose cradled in her arms. He lifted up the duvet so that Julie could lay Rose down beside him. As she put Rose down, the little girl woke up. She looked around, seeming surprised to have been moved. Then she began to cry very, very quietly.
“Dada,” she wailed, tiny fists clutching at Luke’s pyjama top. “Mama!”
Julie was exhausted. She could see a long day ahead of her, looking after both of the most important people in her life as they battled this disgusting illness. But as she looked at them – tearful little Rose snuggled up with Luke, who had his arms around her tightly, stroking her back soothingly as he whispered shushes – she felt a little bit of that exhaustion melt away, replaced with love.
She perched herself on the bed. “Rosie,” she whispered, tucking one of Rose’s stray hairs behind her ear. “If you quiet down, Mama will sing you a lullaby.”
Luke’s eyes widened. Behind the bloodshot sickness, Julie could see the love and admiration he had for her in them. She beamed at him, and he smiled back as if in awe of her. She felt her heart swell with love.
Rose hushed a little and Julie began the lullaby that her own mother had sung to her when she was little. It was a traditional little rhyme, simple and easy, but the beautiful melismatic notes strung together like bunting made the rising melodies sound ethereally pretty. It had always been one of Julie’s favourite songs.
Rose fell back asleep, huddled in Luke’s arms. Luke reached his hand out of took Julie’s hand.
“You’re perfect,” he mouthed, trying not to wake Rose.
Julie smiled, gently kissed his hand, and finally got up to phone the preschool.
*
Julie never got sick. It wasn’t in her nature. It just didn’t happen.
Except for that one time.
Julie woke up with the highest temperature the thermometer had ever recorded, her head was spinning like she was on a rollercoaster, and her muscles felt so fatigued that she couldn’t get out of bed.
And yet, she said to Luke, “I swear I’m fine.”
Luke, in a rare moment of knowledge and common sense, didn’t take her word for it. He seemed almost excited for her sickness – Julie wasn’t sure how to feel about that – and he pulled her into a tight hug.
“No,” he said firmly, “you’re sick. I’m going to take care of you.”
And he did. The very next thing Luke did was make Julie up a hot water bottle and bring it to her to help combat her chills, then he brought her three boxes of paracetamol and an entire pitcher of water. He called the doctor’s office for advice, then dragged the entire television set up to his and Julie’s room from downstairs. He got Rose ready for school and before he left the house he assured Julie that he would be back soon and she didn’t need to worry and, “If you need anything, just call me and I’ll come straight back.”
Julie couldn’t help but smile despite her tiredness and awful feeling. “I’ll be fine, Luke. Get Rose to school before she’s late.”
“I love you,” Luke said.
Rose, stood at the end of Julie’s bed, said, “Love you, Mama!”
“I love you, Rosie. Have a good day.”
Julie watched the love of her life and her perfect daughter leave the room and listened to their footsteps heading downstairs. Maybe she felt absolutely terrible and perhaps like she was going to be sick, but when she had someone like Luke looking after her it didn’t feel quite so dreadful.
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tjkiahgb · 5 years
Text
Cyrus’s Doppelgänger: An Investigation
I’m reminded of a joke from an old episode of The Simpsons.
In the episode, Homer takes a job in a different town. Shortly after he and the family arrive at their new house, his eccentric boss, Hank Scorpio, shows up to greet them. He talks about his moccasins and tells Homer he left him a pair, but if Homer doesn’t like them, then neither does he. He takes his moccasins off and tosses them away.
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This exchange, which lasts all of five seconds, has led to years upon years of furious debate on the internet, which is weird because normally the internet just lets stuff go.
What did Homer mean? Did he say “Yes, once” because he just saw that very thing happen moments ago and the joke is about him being stupid? Did he mean he saw that same thing happen prior to that day and the joke is about the randomness of life?
The whole thing is so vague and absurd that the answer isn’t clear and both choices can be considered workable solutions.
Why do I bring this up?
Because I believe Andi Mack has a similarly ambiguous joke.
One which has caused a lot of strife.
One which has been on my mind for well over a year.
One which I determined I needed an answer to.
This called for an investigation. And not just any investigation. A cool, trendy, documentary series-style investigation, with multiple parts split up by stylish titles.
After half a year of research -- reviewing hours and hours of tape, conducting hundreds of interviews, and reading some notes -- I believe I may have found an answer.
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This whole mystery begins back in episode four of season two. Titled “Mama,” the episode was directed by Eyal Gordon and written by series creator Terri Minsky herself.
In a scene that occurs about midway through the episode, Jonah teaches Cyrus how to skateboard and he says, “You’re one of a kind, Cyrus.”
To which Cyrus responds...
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Stop and think about this for a second. What exactly is the meaning behind this joke?
I believe before we can begin to investigate any possibilities, we have to first look at the definition of the word “doppelgänger.” And the best way to do that is to go to the source.
One of the earliest English dictionaries ever produced is A Table Alphabeticall, published in London in the year 1604 and written by Robert Cawdrey. There are no known images of Robert Cawdrey so I made one.
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Cawdrey’s dictionary still exists today. It is kept in the Bodleian Library at the University of Oxford.
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Now, I’m not a professional investigator, but having watched quite a few of these documentaries, I knew the best move was to always follow your instincts. So I followed my investigator’s instincts and booked a first-class ticket on a non-stop flight to England to see the dictionary.
Well imagine my surprise and disgust when the stuffy librarians at Oxford wouldn’t let me handle the dictionary or highlight the passages I wanted. I tried to explain to them what tumblr was and they didn’t get it. They told me I couldn’t have their precious little dictionary even after I told them I came all the way from America for this!
And then someone started trying to tell me that Cawdrey’s dictionary was published almost 200 years before the invention of the word “doppelgänger,” so even if I could dig through A Table Alphabeticall, I wouldn’t find it in there. Let me tell you, I did not take that well. There was a lot of yelling on both ends and then they called security on me.
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Long story short, I returned to America $12,000 in the hole and no closer to solving the mystery.
Once back in America, I decided to go to the Merriam-Webster website and look up the definition and take a screenshot of it.
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I tried to make it look old-ish though. It looks like a scan from an old book, right? Okay. Cool.
Now, look at those definitions. The word “doppelgänger” is literally German for “double-walker.” Keep this all in mind as we move forward. We’re not talking about shared interests here. We’re talking about clones, we’re talking about mirror images, we’re talking about twins separated at birth -- things of that nature.
We’re also talking about ghosts? I don’t think this is a ghost thing though, so let’s ignore the second definition.
It’s also, I guess, just literally anyone who has the same name as you? That’s ridiculous. So, what, every John Smith has millions of doppelgängers? Dumb. So dumb. Ignore that definition, too.
Let’s just hone in on the one about seeing your look-alike.
So, when Cyrus says he’s met his doppelgänger, who is he talking about?
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Fans, in discussing this joke before, had considered Iris as a possible solution.
In fact, it’s sort of commonly accepted that Cyrus is talking about Iris because she was still a part of his life at that time so she could easily be on his mind, and they share a lot of similar interests.
And, frankly, she’s really the only person this joke could’ve been about, if it was a reference to someone we’ve actually seen in the show.
But let’s think back to the definition of a doppelgänger. Does that really sound like it’s describing Iris? Again, this isn’t about those shared interests. This isn’t about how much you gel with someone. This is about seeing your visual counterpart.
For a refresher, let’s take a look at both characters from an earlier episode.
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Now, the differences are subtle but I think if you really look closely you can tell they aren’t doubles because they look like entirely different people.
I believe we accepted Iris as the answer because she was there. It was convenient and it allowed us to move on. But thinking about it now, it was clear that choice was just to provide us comfort. That doesn’t mean it was correct. Far from it.
So, no, Iris clearly isn’t Cyrus’s doppelgänger. And if that’s the case, then who might he be talking about?
There had to be another answer. But what?
The trail went cold for several months.
Until one day I was rewatching the season two episode, “For the Last Time,” and found a game-changing clue.
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In “For the Last Time,” Cyrus and Andi prepare a time capsule for Buffy before she moves away.
In the scene in which the two place objects into the time capsule, Andi chooses to add a picture of them at Costume Day in the 6th grade.
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There! Stop!
Zoom in and enhance!
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More! Zoom in and enhance more!
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Not good enough! Zoom in and enhance more!
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Dammit! I thought. Why was this happening to me, of all people? I was running an investigation, not a tile art workshop! How come when I shouted “enhance” at my screen it didn’t enhance?!
Faced with a dilemma, I did what any veteran investigator would do: I threw more money at the problem. After spending $2,300 on a completely new computer setup in an attempt to enhance, failing to enhance once again, and then spending two days going back and forth on the phone with IT specialists, I was told “enhance” was not a thing.
My inability to enhance was another tremendous blow to the investigation.
Or it would have been, except that the picture appeared another time in the show, in the season one episode, “Terms of Embarrassment,” when Bowie put it in his video for Andi.
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Should I have started this chapter with this picture? Probably!
But I wanted you to know I had to suffer through several long conversations with IT nerds where they were constantly rude to me about what I could and could not do on a computer. They kept making snide remarks about how I spent way too much on a setup I didn’t need, and I kept telling them I called to get tech support, not a lecture. It was very trying.
Anyway, now that you know that, let’s “enhance” this picture.
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Just as I had thought: Cyrus Goodman, wearing a costume.
But what was that costume? Who -- or what -- was he dressed as?
The hard work began again. After weeks of research, during which I spent thousands of dollars purchasing and reviewing Blu-ray movies and television show collections, I was finally able to make an educated guess. His costume appeared to be the fictional character Bunga.
To confirm, I went looking for official Bunga costumes on the internet.
I found only these toddler-sized ones:
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Not a match to Cyrus’s costume. A set-back to the theory to be sure.
However, I assumed that Cyrus, since he is marginally larger than a toddler, also ran into the same problem I did and therefore had to make his own Bunga costume.
Luckily, if you were looking to make such a costume, there are a few pictures online of homemade Bunga costumes that could help guide you in the process, like this one I found from an enthusiastic fan on Pinterest.
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Seemed like a match to Cyrus’s costume. The theory was back on track.
All of this led to the next important question the investigation needed to answer: who is Bunga?
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Bunga is a character from the animated TV show, The Lion Guard.
This is Bunga.
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According to one of the greatest sources of man’s collective knowledge, The Lion Guard fandom wiki, Bunga is Timon and Pumbaa’s adoptive nephew.
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This raises a lot of questions, not the least of which about the nature of Timon and Pumbaa’s relationship.
Also, can you just adopt a nephew? What legal rights does that give you? Those of an uncle? What are those? Is that just the right to pick up your nephew from school when his parents are busy? The right to drink too much at a family gathering and start talking politics? The right to take your nephew to a horror movie he’s too young to see that’s going to give him nightmares for the next decade?
I interviewed several lawyers who told me Avuncular Law was not a thing. They also didn’t want to go on record answering hypotheticals about talking animals adopting each other. This didn’t really impede the investigation in any way, but it was wildly unsatisfying on a personal level to not get these answers.
Anyway, The Lion Guard fandom wiki tells us that some of Bunga’s personality traits include: “[having] a soft spot for baby animals,” “[being] somewhat of a comedian who likes telling jokes to his friends in which they sometimes find funny,” and “also at times, Bunga can be clever at times.”
Bunga is also considered very “brave.”
All told, it’s easy to see why Cyrus might be drawn toward Bunga. He shares some of his lighter traits, while he also likely admires Bunga’s courage.
So we know that Cyrus watches The Lion Guard and likes the character Bunga.
But what does that have to do with anything?
Well, if you dig a little deeper, here’s where the connection gets interesting. According to IMDb, Bunga is voiced by Joshua Rush.
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Now you’re probably asking yourself the same thing I was: who is Joshua Rush?
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Joshua Rush is an actor.
According to IMDb, he’s 5′7 and a half, bilingual, and also, Alec Baldwin once played a character named Joshua Rush in the 1980s.
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I don’t know what that means.
What I do know is this: on Joshua Rush’s IMDb page are a collection of pictures of him, and that’s where I found the most staggering turn in the investigation yet:
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I let out an audible gasp upon seeing this.
Now, mind you, I’d been so deep into researching this post at this point that hadn’t slept in well over four days and I was on so much cough medication I forgot shapes, but this was still absolutely shocking to me.
Look at these two side-by-side:
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The image on the left is a promotional still from Actor Joshua Rush’s IMDb page, the image on the right is of Cyrus from a season one episode.
Now there are obviously some slight differences, like their facial expressions or where on their shoulder they rest the strap of their satchel, but besides that, Actor Joshua Rush’s likeness to Cyrus is stunning.
In fact, you might almost say he’s a mirror-image, a double, a... doppelgänger?
So that leaves us with the final question to be answered: has Cyrus Goodman met Actor Joshua Rush?
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Picture, if you would, a voice actor meet and greet. Do you have the image in your mind?
Are you thinking of a convention center?
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Are you seeing fans lined up to meet voice-over artists? They stand around for an hour or two awaiting the opportunity to shake a hand or take a selfie or get a headshot signed by one of their heroes.
Now imagine Cyrus Goodman being one of those fans. Waiting for a chance to meet the voice actor for his favorite character on one of his favorite shows: The Lion Guard.
He gets to the front of the line and sees the actor. Maybe they shake hands. Maybe Cyrus says something nice about his acting ability. Cyrus notes their similarities in his mind. Wow! We look so oddly alike! he thinks. There’s a German word for this exact situation. I’ll have to look it up later. But not in Robert Cawdrey’s A Table Alphabeticall, because I guess it’s not in there or whatever.
Perhaps, he also thinks, this could be an interesting little anecdote I might one day share with a friend while he teaches me to skateboard.
He departs shortly thereafter and leaves the convention center. The two never cross paths again, but Cyrus always remembers.
It’s plausible.
It’s definitely plausible.
But it’s not certain.
And unfortunately, plausible but not certain is where this story ends. Speculation is as good as we can do. I doubt we’ll ever get confirmation about this.
As best I can tell in my research, Actor Joshua Rush is one of those reclusive celebrity types like J.D. Salinger or Daniel Day-Lewis or Joffrey from Game of Thrones. Very quiet, reserved. Probably lives on farm somewhere. No social media accounts or anything like that. Definitely not the type to troll an entire fandom on tumblr with incomprehensible emoji clues. Make you spend several hours trying to figure out what 🌭 means like I’m some stupid modern day hieroglyphologist. Sausage? Relish? What does a burger have that a taco doesn’t?! It’s two in the morning and I’m fifteen paragraphs deep into the Wikipedia article for sandwiches, poring over the words like I’m on the precipice of discovery, like learning that “Oreos and Custard Creams are described as sandwich biscuits (UK/Commonwealth) or sandwich cookies (US) because they consist of a soft filling between the baked layers” is going to be the key to something, that it’s going to be meaningful to me in some way. Well guess what? Not even close! It’s fine. I’m not still mad about this. It’s fine.
I’m fine.
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Dan Castellaneta, the voice actor for Homer Simpson, once told Buzzfeed he improvised the “Yes, once” response intending it to mean that Homer had previously seen someone say goodbye to a shoe. But, he admitted, the other interpretation was funnier.
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And so that was that.
Years of debate settled with a whimper. The official version? The better version? There was zero forethought put into it. The joke was whatever you wanted it to be.
One thing is for certain, hearing from the actor didn’t help anything. In fact, it probably just made things worse. So I’ll tell you this much, the last thing any of us needs is for Actor Joshua Rush to ruin the mystery by weighing in on this. I never want to hear from him on it.
Never.
Never.
Because maybe it’s for the best we never get a concrete answer. The joke is whatever you want it to be. We are the makers of our own reality.
Me personally? I spent half a year working on this and I’ve learned to live in the mystery. To me, Cyrus’s doppelgänger exists and it doesn’t. It’s answered and it’s still a mystery. It’s Iris, it’s Actor Joshua Rush, it’s you and it’s me.
It is everything. And it is nothing.
And I accept that.
Or perhaps... perhaps I just tell myself I’m okay with that answer so I can try to sleep again at night.
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goldendream-s · 7 years
Text
decisions (pt. 2)
summary; shawn and you see each other after weeks and months of missed phone calls and unanswered texts, but when they finally find a time to talk, hearts only continue to get broken.
PART ONE || PART THREE
MASTERLIST || REQUEST
It had felt like a stab in the back, but you couldn’t seem to pull the knife out. Shawn had chosen his girlfriend over you, and you couldn’t deny the obvious: you felt betrayed. You so badly wanted all of this to be a nightmare and to run into the arms of your bestfriend, but you knew that was no longer an option. 
The past three days have had you consumed with trying to get a hold of Shawn, begging for him to hear you out. Your heart told you to leave him be and to hate Shawn, but you couldn’t even will a finger to do so. The six going on seven year friendship between you and Shawn was too valuable to give up without a fight, but it was hard fighting a battle single-handedly. You might’ve been mad at the moment, but as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t ever get yourself to fully hate Shawn.
Luckily for you, Ian, Geoff, and Matt had been over at your house trying to comfort you since the night that everything blew over. You were initially surprised how they sided with you knowing how close they were to Shawn, but you were grateful for their support nonetheless. They’d check up on you, bring you food, and gave you the company that your heart so badly needed. The three were like the older brothers you never had.
“Seriously, thank you guys so much for doing all of this,” you gestured to all of the snacks, drinks, and games they brought over to you face.
“Anytime,” Ian said while throwing an M&M at you.
Flinching, you were quick to toss one back. 
“You don’t have to thank us, bud. This is what friends are for,” Matt added.
The four of you were in your living room with you listening to the tour stories that your three friends had to share. You loved hearing of their adventures as it took your mind off of the situation in front of you.
“Holy crap, remember when we had like hundreds of fans swarming the tour bus?” Geoff recalled while asking Ian and Matt to confirm the fond memory.
“Who wouldn’t?” Ian laughed, “I can still hear all of those screams in my nightmares sometimes,” he joked as the four of you broke into a fit of laughter.
The conversation began shifting to the topic of Shawn’s band, and you knew what was coming up next.
“What if I told you that Charlie was flying out here to Toronto for a week and wanted to meet you?” Matt wiggled his eyebrows as you buried your face in the pillow sitting in your lap.
You regretted telling them about your mini celebrity crush on the popstar knowing the teasing was inevitable. 
“What if I told you that you guys were crazy and that I was just joking about you guys hooking me up with him,” you shot back. You weren’t a huge fan of Charlie, but you definitely loved the songs you heard on the radio from him.
“We might be crazy, but we aren’t kidding. He’s coming to town next week to do some interviews for his next album. Figured we’d do something to help you to get your mind off of things,” Geoff explained to you.
“Thank you guys, but I think I’m gonna have to pass. I don’t wanna embarrass myself and look stupid or anything,” You tried convincing them.
“If you ask me, you’re one of the coolest people I know,” Ian chuckled.
“C’mon, just do it. How often do you get to say that you got to hang out with Charlie Puth?” Geoff added.
“Okay, but what if I fangirl and creep him out, huh?”
“Please, you’ve been bestfriends with a world sensation for six years, if your fan girl antics haven’t freaked out Shawn, I doubt it will Charlie,” Matt said.
Ian quickly nudged Matt in the ribs knowing that the mention of Shawn made you slightly uncomfortable. You laughed at the gesture, but quickly brushed it off.
“Okay, let’s do it,” you smirked.
+
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” you asked timidly through your phone screen.
“Yes, baby, I’m positive. What has it been? Like two and a half months? I’m ready if you are,” he enthusiastically said through the other line. The facetime call did no justice when it came to showing how excited he looked.
As cliche as everything sounded and turned out, you still weren’t sure how you landed yourself in the position you were in right now. After Matt, Ian, and Geoff’s little stunt that they put together to set you and Charlie up, the two of you immediately hit it off. Of course, it wouldn’t be a date if you didn’t spend it trying to awkwardly break the ice and get to know each other, but you were glad when Charlie asked for your number and texted you about a second date three days later.
In that time, you had still been trying to get a hold of Shawn, which was no use. Don’t get it wrong, you were head over heels for Charlie and only Charlie, but your life felt empty with Shawn. You genuinely missed your bestfriend, but the feeling must’ve not been reciprocated. Half of you wanted to stay angry at Shawn but the other half wanted to run back into his arms. He might’ve done you wrong, but you wanted to think that it was all just some twisted nightmare.
“Charlie, you know I’m fine with people knowing that we’re dating, but are you sure that your album release party is the right place? The nights supposed to be about you and your music. We can always wait for another time,” you suggested.
“Darling, I’m very sure. I just want the world to know that I’m with the most gorgeous and amazing girl out there,” he chuckled.
You laughed at the name. Shawn used to always call you that.
“You’re all the way in L.A. and you still know how to make a girl blush, huh?” You half joke.
“Only for you, bub,” his laughed joined yours.
“Hey, I gotta go for an interview, but everything’s set okay? Everyone practically knows that we’re dating so it shouldn’t be much of a surprise. Bye, love. See you in 12 hours!”
You quickly said your goodbye, turning off your phone and crashing onto your bed. You still couldn’t fathom how an average girl from Toronto like you would catch someone like Charlie’s eyes, but you were grateful nonetheless. He treated you like a princess and lifted some of the sadness and betrayal that you had felt for past few months. Now here you were, about to fly out to Los Angeles to celebrate your boyfriend’s album drop.
Without a doubt, you knew Shawn would be there, but you were learning not to care. If he didn’t want anything to do with you, you figured it was about time for you to do the same.
+
“You must be Charlie’s girl! He has told me so many good things about you!” The man that looked a year or two older than Charlie said to you.
You couldn’t help but blush, especially since Charlie’s hands were around your waist, gripping you tightly to his side. The past thirty minutes have consisted of meeting his friends as a mix of his new songs and other chart toppers blasted through his condo. It was a little smaller compared to the release parties that Shawn has had for his two albums, but the low-key atmosphere eased your nerves.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” you greeted back, sticking your hand out but quickly receiving a hug from the guy instead.
“Hey Charlie, ‘grats on the album, man!” Another person called from the opposite side of the room.
Both of your heads turned to the call, and your boyfriend turned back to give you a knowing look, asking to go greet what must’ve been a friend.
“Babe, it’s your party. I’ll be fine on my own for a lil’ bit,” you promised while eyeing the mini bar.
“Okay… you know where to find me if you need me,” Charlie gave you a side hug before heading over to the growing group of people.
As soon as he went, you stopped to take in your surroundings – something you haven’t been able to do since arriving. The wall to your left was lined with vinyl records while the ceilings were adorned with streamers. His condo was as simple as they came, but you liked the cozy vibe it gave off.
In the middle of your little look-around, your head immediately stopped and you almost had to do a double take to make sure you weren’t hallucinating.
You’d recognize that head of soft brown curls anywhere. From the guitar tattoo to the awkward stance, you knew you weren’t seeing wrong.
Turning around it hopes that he didn’t notice your stare, you were too late. You felt footsteps near you and another warm body approach yours. Your efforts of heading to the mini bar failed as a hand clutching a shoulder stopped any further movement.
Suddenly, all of the pain, hurt, and betrayal you had pent up these past months turned into icy bitterness. Your fists clenched and your veins seemed to be pumping your blood at an incredible speed.
Taking a deep breath, you whipped your head around to be faced with none other than Shawn.
“What do you want?” you impatiently tapped your foot, hoping that Charlie would come to the rescue and save you from exploding in front of your ex-bestfriend at this party.
“Please don’t be like this. I just need to talk to you. I swear if you just give me five minutes I can explain everything to you,” he begged.
It didn’t take you time to give in. You might’ve been mad, but you wanted answers. You wanted to know why you were the second choice.
“Fine, follow me,” you didn’t turn back as you tested your memory. You’ve only been in this condo one other time, but you knew the only way the two of you could have a productive conversation would be in the quiet confines of the guest room.
Finding the room, you opened the door gesturing for Shawn to enter before closing it again.
“You have five minutes, Mendes.”
“Look, I don’t know where else to start but to say sorry,” Shawn started, “so, so, fucking sorry. I chose a girl over my bestfriend and I-I don’t know why I’d do that,” his gaze moved everywhere around the room until they met your furious eyes. 
Your intense glare almost softened for a moment until you snapped back into the reality of the situation. You could only nod your head, not satisfied with his half apology. Shawn’s anxious pacing told you he had more to say.
“I broke up with her a week after it all happened, I can’t believe I stayed with her for that long. I should’ve known that when she made me choose between the two of you that she was with me for all of the wrong reasons. Fuck, I should’ve known the moment she started talking shit about all my friends,” Shawn crashed his face into his palms.
Walking over to the window watching the busy cityscape outside, you finally opened your mouth to speak.
“So what about all of the times I tried to call you? All of the times my texts went unanswered and calls got sent straight to voicemail, huh?” You said as you thought of the hundreds of times you tried to reach Shawn before you eventually gave up on the nearly impossible task.
“Rylen blocked your number from my phone. I didn’t know you were trying to get a hold of me until Geoff and Matt told me,” He explained.
The sound of Shawn’s ex-girlfriend alone sent shivers up your back, but you stood your ground.
“Things will never be the same as they were before that, and you know that, right?” You asked all while trying to hold in your building anger.
“Of course I know it’s not! You don’t have to rub in how stupid I was for ruining our friendship. Please, let me have at least one chance to fix this. I can’t lose you,” He begged without skipping a beat.
The uneasiness of this confrontation was beginning to weigh down on your shoulders, pushing to you to go straight to the questions you’ve been wanting answers for.
“Why though, Shawn? What’d I do to be the second decision? The back-up plan?” you bitterly questioned.
“Hey, what? No! You know you’re anything but a bac-”
“Cut the bullshit, Shawn. Just tell me what I did to deserve being ditched and cut off by who I thought was my bestfriend. You left me in the dust for that girl, I’m pretty sure I’m the back-up person” Your harsh words that you were spitting startled yourself as much as it did Shawn, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret your tone.
“Do you really wanna know?” Shawn huffed. You weren’t facing him, but you could feel the aggravation beginning to lace in his usually chirpy and bright voice.
“Well that’s why we’re here, right?”
You were so close to getting your answer, but the door swung wide open before either of you had another second to speak.
“Babe, there you are! Andrew wanted to mee- oh, uhh… I’ll let the two of you talk,” you were greeted by your searching boyfriend.
You quickly ran to the door to assure Charlie that you could handle it all by yourself, but from the already heated conversation that was lingering in the air, Charlie seemed to understand what was happening.
“Oh my go-. Shawn’s the asshole that you were talking about? He’s the one that left you for his girlfriend?” Charlie frantically realized as his fist and jaw were beginning to clench.
Surprised by how he figured out so quickly, you were quick to hush him, crossing your fingers that Shawn hadn’t heard that. “Babe, I got it. Don’t worry about it.” 
He nodded his head before telling you where to find him if you needed any help, closing the room’s door to leave.
You silently thanked the heavens for having a boyfriend as understanding as Charlie because you knew how wrong the scene looked. You and Shawn alone in a dimly lit room together, who wouldn’t have mistaken it to be something else? You shot a smile to Charlie before he closed the door, resuming the dreaded conversation between you and Shawn.
“An asshole that left my bestfriend, huh?” your head turned back to Shawn, who’d obviously heard Charlie’s words.
You were about to object, but Shawn cut you cut.
“Holy shit, I should’ve known,” you heard Shawn murmur under his breath again. Your eyebrows perked up, unaware of what Shawn was getting at.
“You’re dating him, aren’t you?” he quickly searched for your eyes before turning his back away from you.
You reached for Shawn’s shoulder to turn him around, but it looked like he had other plans. As he made his way to the door, you knew exactly what he was trying to do.
“Shawn, where are you going? I thought we were gonna talk this out?” you frantically questioned.
“I-I’m sorry, I have to go,” Shawn replied without even looking back once again. Before you had any time to react to his sudden flea, Shawn was already making his way through the door. You called for his name, but you knew he wasn’t going to turn back. Now here you were again, alone and full of questions.
If there was one thing that Shawn was good at, it was leaving you.
+
Shawn didn’t want to admit it, but he knew that he was slowly losing you like sand slipping through his fingers. Yet despite all of his regret, Shawn knew that he had messed up big time, and he was getting what he deserved. The feeling in the pit of his stomach only got worsened by the fact that Shawn knew he hadn’t made any efforts to talk to you besides making a few phone calls that you never answered. After the night of Charlie’s party, he knew he’d probably ruin any shot of getting your forgiveness.
It seemed like the seconds turned into hours as hours turned into days without seeing you. Shawn was finally getting time off from tour, but he was instead spending his break wondering how to get you to forgive him.
He lost his bestfriend because he chose some girl over you, and he didn’t know how to fix his mistakes. Shawn didn’t know how to explain it any other way but to say that he lost his other half. You had always been there for him, and he had let you down.
Everything surrounding him reminded you of him. From the pool in his backyard that the two of you would always swim in during the summers to the sheets on the bed that you helped him pick, he couldn’t escape your presence. Music, which would always be Shawn’s way of escaping his troubles was something he had to avoid, too. His favorite guitar hanging from his wall along with six other acoustics was gifted from you on his 17th birthday, and he would be lying if most of his songs were secretly about you.
No matter how much he didn’t want to acknowledge it, you would always find a way to creep back into his thoughts and actions. The butterflies in his stomach when a friend would ask about you and the way his heart would beat faster by the simple mention of your name drove him crazy. He missed your touch, he missed the friendship the two of you shared, and he missed having you be one call away.
“Come in,” Shawn tried to shout through his door as a knock sounded through his room.
“When are you gonna get out of your room? We haven’t had your bestie come over in a while so can we ask her to come over for dinner? I miss her,” Aaliyah asked while walking closer to his bed, finally seeing Shawn in the state he was in.
“That makes the two of us,” he barely whispered under his breath, burying his head into his plush pillows.
“Holy crap, what happened?” Aaliyah hurried to pull Shawn into a hug as he finally let go of the tears he’s been trying to hold in since you walked through the door the other night.
“I-I messed up,” Shawn shakily answered, trying to stead his breathing. 
Shawn wasn’t one to cry so easily, but he couldn’t stop the constant wave of tears streaming down his face. He didn’t even try to hide is regret and cries from his younger sister who was trying to piece together everything that was unraveling before her eyes.
“What do you mean?” Aaliyah tried her best to stay calm for the sake of her brother, but the underlying feeling in her bones and stomach told her you wouldn’t be coming over anytime soon. 
“I-I think I love her,” Shawn mustered to say through his emotional state.
Aaliyah was now beyond confused. Why would he be crying over the fact that he loved someone? She knew Shawn had gotten a girlfriend recently, but it wasn’t something she worried too much about.
“Isn’t that a good thing? Her name was Rylen, right?” 
Aaliyah tried moving the conversation along, “Shawn, I know as little about love as you do, but aren’t you supposed to be happy? I mean, I dunno, but those don’t look like tears of joy to me,” she tried her best to make her older brother smile, but it was no use.
In fact, instead of bringing bringing a smile to Shawn’s face, her comments only seemed to make his sobs louder and stronger.
“N-No, I think I love my bestfriend.”
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superfan99records · 5 years
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Super Fan Illustrator Focus #2
I first met Nicholas Stevenson almost ten years ago when we shared a manager for our respective musical projects. His artwork and music were very intwined, his sleeves always struck me as being an extension of himself and his songs. One played equal part in supporting the other. I'd describe his style as being extremely playful, colourful, fanciful, distorted, magical and most of all joyful. I loved his art and have had him in mind for so many projects since. The first time we worked together he illustrated my band aboard a ship for a limited screen print single, unusually it was printed on black card making a night sky backdrop. Years later when I started Super Fan and needed a logo he was the first person I thought to ask. The brief was simply "Do something with Ice hockey sticks and maybe a shield?" He came back to me pretty quick with a whole range of variants, I picked one and this was to be the labels logo for releases 1 through to 50. He then did sleeves for both our live to tape night 'Reelin' releases and Matt McKees album too (with photos by Naomi Goggin) 
As well as picking up various awards and being exhibited, he's done work for The New York Times, Blue Note Records, The Scouts Association, Urban Outfitters, Warner/Chappell Music, Anorak Magazine and countless bands along the way. He is currently a teacher on the BA Illustration course at Hereford College of Arts, plays in the band Lucky Shivers AND is one half of the excellent Oro Swimming Hour. In short, he's a busy guy with a very colourful mind.
What did you like drawing as kid? Were there particular characters or subjects that you'd always come back to?
Thanks for the kind words Luke! I had several phases, and I was quite obsessive. Tractors, then fish, then dinosaurs, ninja turtles, power rangers, star wars... I'd draw when I watched TV and had battles with my friends trying to draw bigger scarier space ships. I found and scanned a box of drawings from the fish/dinosaur era, here my parents collaborated with me a fair bit, so I can't take total credit for them. 
Your work sometimes reminds me of Eric Carle in it's texture and colour. What are some of your favourite illustrated kids books?
Yes I love Eric Carle's work and I do quite a similar process, cutting and rearranging paintings and found textures, albeit with some help from the computer. I've always loved the book 'Goodnight Moon', it's so eerie and strange. Just a rabbit wishing all the weird, kitsch and creepy objects in its room goodnight. The colour palette is very influential. I also just discovered a Japanese book called 'The Night Train' by Shigeo Nishimura, which is hard to find in the uk, but worth tracking down. It's all pictures and no words, showing a beautifully observed journey on a night train, it's very calming and magical.
Tell us about the Bill Murray colouring book project and how that came about? It seemed to blow up online and the cover featured an illustration of Bill by Nic in his unmistakeable style. You can find them everywhere, I even spotted one in a store on a recent trip to LA. 
Mike from Belly Kids (the publisher) got in touch out of the blue asking me to contribute to a colouring book idea he had. I was a little unsure how I'd make my painting work for a colouring book and I nearly did a line drawing instead. Luckily Mike liked the painted image so much that he put it on the cover. I obviously thought the book was a great idea, but I had no idea that people would go as crazy for it as they did. I found the original painting the other day, and I'd accidentally been mixing colours on the back...
Let's talk about record sleeves. Are there any that stick out in your mind from browsing stores when you were a kid and which sleeve do you wish you designed yourself?
Record stores were like galleries to me, I often bought albums just because the record sleeve did something interesting for me and I discovered some great stuff that way (Seekonk Pinkwood comes to mind). Anything painted, drawn, unpolished and visceral usually grabbed my attention. Bob Dylan's painting on the cover of 'Music from Big Pink', Robert Pollard's collages for Guided by Voices, Pavement's 'Brighten the Corners', Frank Zappa sleeves, Iron and Wine 'The Shepherds Dog', Beck 'The Information'... When I was an illustration student my final project was a deluxe repackaging of Elliott Smith's 'Roman Candle'. I actually love the photograph on the cover of that record, but I wanted to see what would happen if it was illustrated instead. I'd like to do the same for Midlake's 'Bamnan and Slivercork'. That album is so lyrically visual, there's a clear narrative I'm just aching to draw. One handed machinists, a balloon maker, junglers, monocle-men...
For your musical projects you always contribute the art whether it be gig posters, zines or sleeve designs, would you ever trust this job with another artist or do you feel it is too intertwined with the songs themselves?
Sometimes I'd love to hand it over and see what someone else would do with it. There's so many people I admire and would trust to do a great job... But I always feel like it needs to be me, and like you say there's a shared ethos with the drawing and recording, it seems to work. That's not to say it's easy though, my own record sleeves are the things I do and redo over and over, I'm never satisfied, my own worst client! It's harder to have a pure reaction to your own music, you're too close to the struggle of it and the circumstances of its creation sometimes.
I can often imagine many of your characters coming to life in animated form, is this something you'd like to explore in the future? 
Yes, I love to animate, and have collaborated with some wonderful animators, but often on project slightly sideways of my own interests. I'm working on my own story telling and longer forms of narrative so we'll see if that doesn't lead to some more animation in the future. 
Are there any geographical places that inspire your art or ideas?
My mother is American, and I hop back over there when I can. Portland Maine, New Hampshire, Boston are places I discovered a lot of the records I love (thanks Bull Moose Records & Newbury Comics), and that landscape, endless woods, flakey wooden town houses, fireflies... I lived in the Seychelles for a few years as a child too, tropical plants at night, ghost stories, and hidden pirate treasures are things I take from there. I'm currently renting a medieval house, I love timber frames and puffy sleeves too. I used to not be very interested in the English landscape, but I think it's going to be more important going forward.
What's been your favourite project to work on and is there a particular project out there you'd love to have a go at?
I got to produce some animated GIFs for Save the Children recently, which was a really challenging project to do, telling the story of an internally displaced refugee in Afghanistan. I was really surprised that I got to do something like that, and that I was able to translate my visuals in to something serious and purposeful in a different way. I've always said I'd love to do the seat patterns for TFL? How about they let me redo the Northern Line?
My Dad paints watercolours and often gets fixated on a certain artist or record for a long time while working. Do you have any go to artists you like to listen to while you work?
In the idea generating stage I can't have anything on anymore, I'm too easily distracted! But once the idea is crystallised and I'm just producing work I really like anything by Grouper, Ali Farka, Tinariwen, Deru, A Hawk and a Hacksaw... instrumental mostly. You've got to keep that language part of your brain shut off!
I can't imagine the answer for this being a no but are you a collector of anything? Haha, yes. For one reason or another I have: Postcards of Volcanic Eruptions, matchbox labels, plastic animals, toy trees, zines, riso prints, composition notebooks.
And finally, what's the latest with your musical projects? I hear there is a new Oro Swimming Hour record in the pipeline?
Yes! The new record is finished, there's a slightly broader sound palette this time and even more tracks, even eerier. Process wise it's still very spur-of-the-moment, songs recorded as they're being written, intensely collaborative and open. It's nice because I'm still surprised when I listen back, did we do that? I don't remember, it all happened so fast. I will most definitely be appearing sometime in 2019.I suspect you'll be hearing more from Lucky Shivers this year too, we're much more methodical and careful over those songs, but there's a record slowly being chipped away at!
You can find more of Nic’s work by visiting the link below to his homepage or following him on Instagram. Look out for further posts in this series as I talk to the other artists who have helped shape Super Fans visual identity.
www.nicholasstevenson.com @nicholasillustration
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[Recap] STRANGER THINGS 2, Episodes 1-5: What Goes Up, Must Come Upside Down
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[Recap] STRANGER THINGS 2, Episodes 1-5: What Goes Up, Must Come Upside Down
Stranger Things just debuted its second season on Netflix. Last year’s breakout viral sensation garnered critical acclaim and audience goodwill for its heady mix of nostalgia and horror, appearing on multiple end of year lists and snagging two Golden Globe nominations.
So how does the “sequel” (as series creators The Duffer Brothers have taken to calling it) fare? Read on for my recap of the first five episodes of season two.
Overall thoughts on Season 2
Immediate thoughts upon finishing the season: it’s more of the same, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The Duffer Brothers clearly know the show and their audience and even if at times they’re prone to replicating elements from Season One, I would argue that the season wraps up in a more satisfying fashion. Noah Schnapp (Will) proves to be the show’s secret weapon: the young actor has an uncanny ability to play a range of different roles to perfection. Bonus points for a more successful climax in round two, as well.
Episodic Breakdown
As people make their way through the new episodes, Nightmare on Film Street has prepared episodic recaps so be sure to bookmark this page and come back when you finish each episode. Look for the recap of episodes six – nine tomorrow.
Will doesn’t fit in in the season premiere of Stranger Things “Mad Max”
Episode 1 – “Mad Max”
Online chatter suggested the first episode back was slow, but ‘MadMax’ is simply a table setter. We need this reintroduction to Hawkins, Indiana and its denizens in order to set up the season. That means introducing new characters like Sean Astin’s Bob, Paul Reiser’s creepy Dr. Owens and new schoolmates Billy (Dacre Montgomery) and the titular Max (Sadie Sink) – though neither of the kids are given much to do.
“Mad Max” has a few intriguing supernatural occurrences to whet our appetite, including the mysterious poisoning at the pumpkin patch, the lit up control board at Hawkins Laboratory and, of course, Will’s visions of the looming insect-like threat (which would be more striking if it hadn’t been spoiled in Every.Single.Trailer). As for everyone’s favourite Eggo-eating, telepathic feral little girl, the Duffer Brothers naturally keep Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) hidden until the very end of the episode as one of several examples of characters keeping secrets from each other.
At once point, Dr. Owens tells Joyce (Winona Ryder) that things will get worst before they get better. For her, that’s terrible news. For Stranger Things viewers, that can only means good things ahead.
Odds and Ends:
The cold open features a series of unknown characters getting chased by police before one passenger displays Eleven-like powers that allows them to escape. This will clearly be paid off later (see episode seven in tomorrow’s recap – or rather don’t), but for now, it’s little more than a distraction from our reintroduction to Hawkins.
Danger looms for Will on Halloween night in 2×02 “Trick or Treat, Freak”
Episode 2 – “Trick or Treat, Freak”
First off, let’s address the ridiculous #JusticeForBarb storyline that’s dominating the Nancy (Natalia Dyer) and Steve (Joe Keery) story line. The Duffer Brothers clearly want to address the outcry for the fan favourite from Season One, but can we all agree that they’re leaning into it a little too much? Thankfully all it takes is one drunk party for the real fireworks to come out: Nancy drunkenly confesses about the inadequacies of her relationship with Steve and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) gets to put the object of his affection to bed. Just remember kids: repression is bad because it manifests as a giant red punch stain on the front of your First Lady/Figure Skater costume.
The other element that stands out about episode two is that there’s a lot more comedy: the four boys are the only ones who dress up for Halloween at school, Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) and Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) struggle to speak to Max, Eleven passes her time watching soaps and dimwitted Officer Callahan (John Reynolds) mistakenly touches poisoned crops with his bare hands.
That last piece – the mysterious crop damage storyline – also begins to take shape as we learn that most of Hawkins’ farms have been affected by a mysterious poison, hinting at bigger things to come.
Odds and Ends:
Are the Duffer Brothers candy addicts? First Will and Dr. Owens debate Reese’s Pieces last episode and now there’s a prolonged discussion about the terribleness of 3 Musketeers bars? (Which, for the record, are delicious)
Initially it seemed like this episode was going to offer more insight about contentious siblings Billy and Max, but aside from their chicken-inspired driving on the highway, they remain obscure figures on the periphery. What’s their deal?
Bob and Joyce share a quiet moment in 2×03 “The Pollywog”
Episode 3 – “The Pollywog”
While I appreciate the effort being put into developing Sheriff Hopper (David Harbour) and Eleven’s relationship, I don’t think that the amount of screen time dedicated to this plot line is well spent. Three episodes in and we’re seeing the same content covered repeatedly: she was lost in the woods in winter, Hopper found her after a few feral encounters and they set up a temporary home with three “don’t be stupid” rules. We get it Stranger Things. At this point it just feels like the Duffer Brothers are delaying bringing Eleven back together with the gang.
Thankfully the second season’s dual mythology plot lines continue to develop nicely:
Hopper enlists Dr. Owens to investigate the contagion affecting the crops, which we learn is accounting for the odd smell that Billy and Max described in the last episode.
Meanwhile, Dustin names the “pollywog” creature that he finds in his trash D’Artagnan (because 80s!). A quick examination of the new species reveals that D’Art is a) afraid of the light b) growing exponentially and c) tied to the thing that Will spit into his sink at the end of Season One. Unfortunately the unnatural occurrences end in disaster when Will takes Bob‘s advice to confront the monster head on and he’s literally infected by the smoke monster from his visions. Oops!
Odds and Ends:
Was anyone else surprised to see Shirts vs Skins in gym class was a real thing? I won’t lie: all of these scenes felt remarkably homoerotic. It’s tantamount to a late night flick on Cinemax.
The aftermath of Will’s attack in 2×04 “Will The Wise”
Episode 4 – “Will The Wise”
After the cliffhanger possession ending of the last episode, we pick right up with Will, who claims not to remember what happened to him. After some prodding by Joyce, Will reveals that the creature wanted inside him and their parasitic relationship is deepened when Will refuses to take a hot bath, proclaiming “He likes it cold.”
When Hopper finally arrives at the Byers residence (following an uncomfortable battle of wills with Eleven after she abuses his 3 rules), there’s no narrative clarity about what’s happening, but it still feels like forward momentum. The result – Will confiding in Hopper and Joyce, Mike (Finn Wolfhard) revealing Will’s secret to Dustin and Lucas – makes “Will The Wise” the most satisfying episode of the season to date.
Unfortunately I simply cannot care about the stuff with Nancy and Jonathan and Barb’s mom. The only element of this story line that worked for me was the editing of the sequence in the park, which effectively highlighted Nancy and Jonathan‘s paranoia. The suggestion that these high school students could pull off a covert sting operation against the Hawkins Lab guys is a bit of a laugh, but we’ll see where it goes.
Odds and Ends:
Eleven‘s investigation into her history hits the jackpot when she discovers Hawkins Lab boxes hidden under the floor of Hopper‘s cabin. From there she’s able to connect with her very-much-alive mom, who identifies Eleven as “Jane” before disappearing in a literal puff of smoke.
I’m definitely losing interest in Billy and Max‘s storyline. Is there anything more to this than the fact that he’s racist?
RIP Mews. It always sucks when animals are killed on TV and that poor dead kitty didn’t deserve to be D’Art’s snack. 🙁
Will’s illness is finally address in 2×05 “Dig Dug”
Episode 5 – “Dig Dug”
This is essentially a “choose your own adventure” episode. Most of the characters venture off on their own: Hopper spends the episode foolishly investigating the tunnel system without back-up; Joyce, Mike, Will and Bob decode Will‘s drawings; Lucas catches Max up to speed, and Nancy and Jonathan and Eleven go on separate road trips.
I definitely appreciated the grotty visuals of what Hopper encounters in the tunnels (the blast to the face by a not-at-all-anus-like vine is particularly visceral and icky). Meanwhile Bob earns his high school “Brain” nickname when he deduces that the drawings are a map of Hawkins, though admittedly, hadn’t we all figured this out well in advance? It seems pretty obvious.
The two mythologies finally collide when Will‘s map leads to Hopper, whose survival ironically depends on his smoking habit. Luckily Joyce, Bob and the Hawkins Lab army show up just in time, ending the episode on another cliffhanger when it is revealed (unsurprisingly) that Will‘s physical health is connected to the tunnel vines and he winds up in Grand Mal territory.
Odds and Ends:
I’m glad that Dustin is no longer acting stupid about how dangerous D’Art is. It was evident from the start that the unknown creature was dangerous and “Dig Dug” confirms that as D’Art grows, he becomes more of an (unnatural) threat.
Let’s take a moment to recognize the comedic genius of Lucas‘ sister Erica (Priah Ferguson), who is officially the Dustin of this season. She’s equal parts annoying and hilarious. I love her.
Finally, Eleven‘s storyline continues to (annoyingly) exist completely outside of the main narrative. This episode she meets her Aunt Becky (Amy Seimetz), a Clea DuVall-esque woman looking after her mother. What follows is essentially a redo of Season One: Eleven‘s mom communicates via flickering lights and there’s a whole extended flashback that’s basically the Stranger Things version of Hodor’s “Hold The Door” backstory from Game of Thrones.
Check back tomorrow for recaps of the final four episodes of season two. In the interim, leave your impressions below in the comments!
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anavoliselenu · 7 years
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Creighton chapter 27
“I don’t know, babe. He’s your husband.” “So, what do I do now?” I don’t know if I’m asking myself, Tana, or the universe in general. Luckily for me, Tana has an answer. “Get your ass back to Nashville. Come to my place and lay low.” My phone beeps with another incoming call. I pull it away from my face, once again expecting to see Justin’s name on the screen. But it’s not. It’s Chance. “Shit. Chance is calling me too. I better take it.” “He’s gonna tell you the same thing that I am. Get your ass back to town, and your people will circle the wagons.” “Thank you for the heads-up. Now to do damage control on my life.” “You got this, babe. Love you.” I hit the button to flip over to Chance’s call. “You heard the news that you’re news?” he says without preamble. “Yep. Just now.” “Good. Get yourself back to town. You’re gonna lay low and finish your songs. Boone says he’ll put you up so you’re out of the public eye. I’ll send you Garcia to get the songs finalized, and then you and the band can practice at Boone’s. We’re going to cut that album as fast as we fucking can.” It’s so much information to take in, I’m reeling. “Slow down, Chance. This is all—” “No time to slow down, kid. As of this morning, you’re the girl everyone’s talking about. We need to ride the wave before it goes south.” I should appreciate his opportunistic business sense, but I need a second to breathe. “It’s my goddamn life, Chance. Not a fucking wave.” “I know, doll. But all you can do is hold on and enjoy the ride. Call me when you get to Boone’s.” I pause in my pacing, the phone still to my ear, and I listen to nothing but dead air for ten seconds before I snap out of it enough to hang up. Seriously? That’s it? He didn’t even stop and ask me if I wanted to stay at Boone’s. I planned to crash behind Tana’s gates. I grit my teeth, knowing I’m about to ride into the shitstorm of the century. My stomach twists and turns with guilt. Mama better be long gone, because if I track her down, there’s no telling what I’ll say or do. And Justin . . . I don’t even know what to think. The guilt that I’m the reason his past is smeared across the tabloids fights with the hurt that he didn’t tell me he bought the label and is facing serious legal issues because of it. This is supposed to be as real as it gets, and yet he said nothing. Why? And why hasn’t he called me today? I stare down at my phone and quickly search for his contact. I tap his cell number, trying to figure out what I’m going to say. But no need—the call goes straight to voice mail. I call again. And again. And again. Nothing. Finally, I call his office. Instead of the receptionist I got the last time, I get a prerecorded message thanking me for my call before offering me the number of the PR department at Karas International. I blink as I lower my phone to the counter. Seriously, Justin? What is this? The only thing I can fathom is that they’ve been overrun with calls about today’s news. For a moment I think about calling the PR department and asking them to have the boss call his wife. But I decide that’s not the best course of action. My imagination is jumping all over the place. Is he locked inside some kind of super-top-secret meeting that he can’t get away from? Was the Homegrown deal the reason he stood me up when I needed to be back in Nashville? So many secrets, and I’m not privy to a single goddamn one of them. So much for this being as real as it gets. Because real is telling your spouse that you’ve bought their record label. Real is telling your spouse that the shit is about to hit the fan because you bought their record label. And from my side of the fence, real is apologizing that I opened my goddamn mouth to my mama and gave her anything to tell the press. I want to rage at him and apologize all at the same time. Why is love so damned complicated? When he still hasn’t called by the time I’m shoving my bags in the Cadillac, rage is winning out. Where the hell is my husband? The bowling bag is the last thing I put in the backseat. I thought about leaving it, but said screw it. I have a feeling that screw it is going to be my mantra of the day. Your mama sells you out to a tabloid? Screw it. Your husband buys your record label and doesn’t mention it? Screw it. Your husband gets sued after buying said record label and doesn’t mention that either? Screw it. I slam the car into gear and tear out of the drive. I’ve got one stop to make before I leave town, so I crank the wheel in the direction of Logan’s service station. I’m pretty sure the tires on the Caddy are smoking when I squeal to a halt. Screw it. I fling the door open and hip check it shut. Screw it.
I march across the pavement and throw open the door, not slowing to ring the bell for service. The music is once again blaring, so I stalk to the stereo and slap a hand on the power button. Screw it. Logan’s head jerks up from the Mustang. “Again? What the hell is your problem with Zeppelin?” “They were all men. That’s enough.” Although I’m not too happy with womankind—or motherkind—today either. Logan leans back against the cherry-red front end of the car and crosses his arms over his chest. “Karas again?” I throw my hands up in the air. “Obviously! Well, him and my mama.” I pace the garage, stepping over air hoses and metal legs of the huge car lifts as I spill the entire sordid story. Logan’s eyes are wide when I finish. “You’ve had a rough morning, girl.” “No kidding.” “What can I do?” I recall the reasons I came here to begin with. “Two things, if you wouldn’t mind.” “Anything you need. All you have to do is ask.” I briefly consider asking him to track down my mother, but decide that’s the worst possible idea. “Can you sell my Pontiac?” “Of course. Just tell me where to send the money.” “I’ll worry about that later.” I pause in my pacing and face him. “I also need you to get a locksmith out to my gran’s and have the locks changed for me. If you get word my mama’s back in town, I want her arrested again for breaking and entering if she tries to get back inside. The house is mine, and I don’t want her in it. Last time she stole stuff, and I’m finished with that crap.” “Consider it done.” My temper cooling slightly, I cross over to him, lean up on my tiptoes, and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re a good man, Logan Brantley. A really good man.” His cheeks flush red, but he smiles. “And don’t you forget it, Selena Wickman. You call me if you ever need anything.” He turns and grabs a slip of paper off the workbench and scribbles his number down with a fat pencil. “Nashville ain’t too far, and if you need me, I’ll be there. Just say the word.” I’m not sure how to take that, so I just say, “Thank you. I’m glad my car died at this particular gas station.” “Me too, honey. Me too.” I’m at a crossroads in my life, both literally and figuratively. I can head southwest toward Nashville and hide behind Boone or Tana’s gates. Or I can head northeast, into the shitstorm surrounding my husband. A shitstorm that I helped make worse on a personal level because of what I shared with Mama. I think about what Justin said to me just before we hung up last night. “I support you, Selena. So whatever you decide is best for you, I’m going to support that too.” As pissed as I am that he didn’t tell me about Homegrown, I owe him the same thing—my support. I ran from him twice before, but this time I’m running straight to him. I’m not saying I won’t ask him what the hell he was thinking by not telling me, but this isn’t a game. It’s the fight of my life. Selena isn’t answering my calls, and I’m about to lose my shit. If she runs again, I have a feeling I might not be able to find her so easily this time. I’ve been trying to reach her for hours, and if I don’t get a response in the next twenty minutes, I’m going to start tracking her credit cards. We were already in lockdown when the article in the Wall Street Journal went live. Some poor red-faced associate came in holding a printout of the article and the piece in Yammer. It’s safe to say that I shouldn’t be meeting Selena’s mother anytime soon, for both our sakes. I’m pacing the conference room, calling Selena again, when the door is shoved open. “Honey, you called?” I drop the phone from my ear when Selena struts in, suitcase in tow. Every head in the room swivels toward her. “Don’t you know how to answer your phone, woman?” “Oh no, he didn’t.” The words are whispered, and I think they come from an associate at the end of the long table. Rather than annoying me, his words remind me that my office is not the place for this discussion. Stalking across the room, I stop in front of my wife. She should be spitting mad, but she’s smiling. That’s almost more disconcerting. “Hey, baby. I missed you,” she says. “Everyone out,” I order, and the room clears within sixty seconds, partners and associates alike shuffling by us without making eye contact. “What are you doing here?” I ask, wondering if Selena is going to drop the act and go for the jugular the moment we’re alone. But instead, she says something completely unexpected. “I support you, Justin. Whatever decisions you made about what to tell me or not tell me, I’m assuming you made them for a reason.” “Selena—” “I’m not done.”
My lips quirk up into a smile. “Then by all means, please continue.” She straightens her posture, and I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or not. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m disappointed that you didn’t tell me about Homegrown, but I’m assuming you had a reason for not telling me. So instead of running to Nashville like I was told, I decided it was time to show you that I know how to run to you just as well as I know how to run away. So here I am. This shitstorm wouldn’t exist if you’d never met me, and my place is right beside you while we wade through the muck.” Hearing her say those words unleashes something fiercely proud and protective within me. “You’re a hell of a woman, Selena Karas.” “Because of you, I’m starting to believe that.” I lift both hands and frame her face. “Fuck, am I glad to see you. And for the record, if you’d run back to Nashville, I would’ve come after you again. Every time. Until you tell me to stop. And probably even after that.” Threading my fingers through her hair, I lower my lips to hers. “Like I’d ever tell you to stop,” she whispers before I take her mouth with mine. When Selena leans up on her toes, hands gripping my shoulders, I pull my lips away and untangle my hands from her hair. “Might as well just climb me.” I drop my hands and cup her ass, lifting her and carrying her to the conference table. Lowering her onto a section not covered in papers, I lay her back and skim my lips up her neck, my teeth scraping along the tendons. Her moans break the silence of the conference room, and all I want to do is fuck her until neither of us can walk. The conference room door swings open. “Seriously, Justin? We don’t have time for this right now.” Cannon doesn’t even bother to clear his throat to give us a polite warning or look away when we break apart. “Get the fuck out,” I growl. “You pay me too much money to let you fuck around when we need to be fixing shit.” Selena wiggles out from underneath me, and my body is not happy to have her go. “Cannon, I don’t believe we’ve formally met in person.” She rounds the table and holds out her hand, not showing the slightest concern that he walked in on us. My wife has nerves of steel, and I find that sexy as hell—just like I find everything about her. Cannon shakes her hand, a small smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, Selena.” “I’d say likewise, but I don’t really like you. Actually, I kind of think you’re a jerk. And now I know for sure you’re a total cock-blocker.” Having never been faced with a woman like Selena before, Cannon stiffens and his eyes cut to me. The look on his face says, Do something, man. I raise my eyebrows in response, clearly communicating, Not a fucking chance. “Well,” Cannon says, dropping Selena’s hand and clearing his throat, “we really need to continue our strategy session so we can get this issue handled. We’ve got less than twenty-four hours before you’ve got to stand up in front of a room full of investors, and we need a solid explanation.” “There’s nothing more to strategize at this point. The investors aren’t stupid. They deserve more than a solid explanation. They deserve the truth, and that’s exactly what I’m going to give them.” “Fuck, Justin. The truth? That you lost your fucking mind over a piece of ass, so you married her and bought her goddamn record label because you didn’t like that they were bullying her around?” Selena’s harshly drawn breath pierces the momentary silence before I surge across the room. My fist flies before I even consider what I’m doing. My knuckles crack against Cannon’s jaw, sending pain rocketing from my hand up my arm, but I don’t fucking care because all I want is for him to shut his goddamn mouth. Cannon stumbles back, reaching out to the paneled wall to keep from falling on his ass. “What the hell, man?” “You’re fired. And you’re fucking lucky I don’t kill you.” “Justin, wait.” Selena’s voice is quiet, but firm. “He’s clearly an idiot, but he’s your best friend.” “Which is why he’s not dead.” “Justin—” “Shut your fucking mouth, Cannon.” “No, Cannon, open it and apologize. And then maybe my husband will give you your job back.” “No fucking way,” I say, my tone deadly serious. The man is lucky he’s still breathing. No one talks about Selena like that. But my former best friend ignores me and shoves off the wall. Wiping the back of his hand across his face, he looks to Selena. “I’m sorry, Selena. I apologize for running my mouth like a jackass.” When he looks at me, he says, “I’m just looking out for you, Justin. I swear, I just didn’t think. And that’s how the press is going to see it too. We just need to be prepared.”
I open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself again, but Selena comes toward me and lays a hand on my arm. “You can’t fire him over this, Justin. Hit him again, maybe. But then go take him out for a beer and get back to solid ground. He’s just looking out for you, and he’s been important to you for a lot longer than I have. I won’t be the reason that breaks. So, figure your shit out.” Then she looks to Cannon. “But if you ever call me a piece of ass again, I’ll immortalize you in a song, and I promise, you will not like how it ends. And that’ll be after I take my best shot at knocking your perfect freaking teeth out.” Turning back to me, she adds, “I’m going to go back to the penthouse now to try to finish up these songs and do damage control with Chance. I’ll be waiting when you’ve finished up your meetings. I actually feel like blowing off my diet and cooking tonight. So make sure you bring your appetite.” She leans up on her tiptoes once more, and I decide that it’s one of my favorite moves. Her lips press lightly against mine. My hand curves around her hip, anchoring her to me. When she lowers back down to her heels, I release my hold on her. “I’m glad you’re here, Selena. Really fucking glad.” “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” Her lips curl into a smile, but it’s still not quite as wide as the one I saw on her face on Country Dreams. Once this is all over, I’ll make sure she has even more to smile about. “Is your kitchen stocked?” I nod. “Yes, but I’ll have a car take you home.” She doesn’t argue. “Okay, Justin. I’ll make something that’ll keep, no matter how late you get home.” Warm contentment settles in my chest. This is an entirely new feeling for me. Working as a team, supporting each other. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, baby.” Her smile as she leaves the room only ratchets up that contented feeling, lacing it with determination to put this behind us as quickly as I can so we can move forward. When the door shuts behind her, Cannon grips his jaw with his hand and cracks it. “One more meeting with the lawyers. You lay out whatever plan you’ve got. They’ll tell you it’s inadvisable. You’ll decide, fuck it, I’m CEO and therefore I can do whatever the fuck I want, and you’ll do it anyway.” He stills his movements and pins me with the blue eyes I’ve known since boarding school. “Is that about how this is going to go?” I grin. “Yes.” “Then let’s get it over with quickly so you can get home to the wife.” I hold out my hand, and he shakes it. “Sounds good.” I’m going all out tonight. Fried chicken, cornbread, baked beans, steamed broccoli, and cherry cobbler. I know, the broccoli is the odd man out, but it’s my nod at attempting to stick to my nutrition plan. I’ve got Elle King cranked up, and I’m bobbing along to “America’s Sweetheart” when I feel him behind me. I have no explanation for it. Justin just has a presence, and apparently it’s one that my body is absolutely and completely attuned to. “Hey, baby. Hope you’re hungry.” I lift the chicken out of the boiling oil and set it aside to drain before I turn to face him. “Goddamn, I don’t know what smells better—you or the chicken.” I snort. “I’m going to assume that’s a compliment and just roll with it.” He leans down to press a kiss to my lips. “It is. And I’ll be having you for dessert.” I haven’t had an orgasm since the one that I had during our phone sex last night. And damn—has it really only been one night? My body is wound so tight that you couldn’t prove it by me. “That sounds fabulous.” Justin turns and sets his briefcase on the bar stool, and I can’t help but smile at the fact that he didn’t set it down before he came to me. He removes his coat, lays it over the briefcase, and comes to stand beside me at the stove. “What are you feeding me, woman?” “Are you in caveman mode now? See woman, she cook. She must feed man,” I say in my best caveman voice. “If you want to play that game later, I’ll drag you back to my cave.” I shake my head, a laugh spilling from my lips. Even in the midst of this shitstorm, we’re laughing and joking. That means something, right? How you limp along during the bad times means so much more than how you glide along during the good ones, right? “You’re crazy, Justin. And I love that about you.” He leans down and this time, sweeps my hair aside and brushes kisses along my neck. I try to swallow back the moan, but it escapes anyway. Even so, reality intrudes. “Baby, I’ve got hot oil on the stove. You need to let me finish frying the chicken, and then we can pick this up.” He growls—growls—before backing away. “You already open a bottle of wine?” “Nope. Left that to you. I’d probably pick something that clashed horribly with the masterpiece we’re about to eat.”
“You realize I don’t give a shit if you picked the wrong wine, don’t you?” “I know, but still. I didn’t want to start drinking without you. Your wine is the good stuff, so I probably would’ve had one glass, and it would’ve been so delicious that I would’ve needed another glass. And maybe another. Especially after this disaster of a day. And then you would’ve come home to burned-to-crap fried chicken, hard-as-a-brick cornbread, sloppy baked beans, squishy broccoli, and flambéed cherry cobbler.” Justin pauses in his reach into the wine fridge. “You made all that?” “Uh-huh. And it’s going to be fabulous.” “Well, damn. I don’t even know what to say to that.” “You don’t have to say anything. Just eat it. And then me. After.” I snap my mouth shut. I can’t believe I just said that. Wait—yes, I can. Justin lifts the bottle of wine from its rack and closes the door. “Oh, baby, you feeling neglected? Because I’ll eat that sweet pussy of yours for days.” A shiver of awareness shoots through me. “Days aren’t really necessary. I’d settle for a really vigorous hour.” Justin’s grin should qualify him as the sexiest man alive. Those sharp cheekbones, dark eyes, and his square jaw, every feature is beautifully accentuated by his smile. “Damn. You are one sexy son of a bitch. You know that, right?” If possible, his grin widens. “Well, if I didn’t, I do now.” “I’m suddenly not very hungry.” The grin morphs into a lazy smile. “Patience, baby. Patience. Besides, a man only gets to eat like this once in a while, and I’m not missing out on my shot. But I think dessert can wait until after.” “Deal. Let’s eat. Fast.” There are so many things we need to talk about, but I decide they can wait until morning. Tonight, I just want to revel in the good, and pretend none of the bad exists. It’ll all be waiting for us in the morning. But tonight . . . tonight we only get once. I’m not going to waste it. At noon the following day, I stand on a podium, the Karas International Inc. logo emblazoned on nearly every surface in the huge auditorium. The room is filled to capacity; it’s standing room only. There’s nothing like gossip to bring every interested body out in droves. But today, they’re not going to get gossip. Today, they’re going to get the truth. “Welcome to Karas International’s Annual Investor Day. As chairman of the board and chief executive officer, it’s my pleasure to welcome you. I’d like to open with a statement that will address what I’m sure is a matter many of you have come seeking answers about—the purchase of Homegrown Records by an independent entity owned by me personally, which prompted a lawsuit filed by a shareholder on behalf of Karas International. The suit alleges that as a company executive and member of its board, this purchase breaches my duty of loyalty both to the company and to you, its shareholders.” A few whispers start in the audience, and I can tell it’s because no one expected me to confront this issue head-on. Which amuses me, because I’m Justin fucking Karas. Head-on is what I do. “I’d like to be the first to tell you that the allegations contained in that suit are complete and utter bullshit. The purchase of Homegrown was not in any way made to usurp an opportunity that would have been appropriate to our company’s current or contemplated business portfolio, nor would it have been beneficial to Karas International. For the record, Homegrown has already cost me over thirty million dollars of capital infusion just to keep the damn thing running.” The whispers in the audience begin to grow in volume, which annoys me. “If you’ll hold your comments until the end, I’ll take your questions until you don’t have any more. But I’d appreciate your courtesy so I can finish my statement.” A hush instantly falls over the room, and I continue. “However, I will agree that the proper procedure to avoid any hint of impropriety and to forestall any grounds for the allegations supporting the suit would have been to have the independent members of the board of directors vote on the transaction. I’m sure you’re wondering why I didn’t go that route, and I only have one answer for you. Have you ever been so absolutely in love that you’ve stopped thinking about practicalities entirely?” A titter rolls through the room, and I pause for a moment to let them absorb my comment before I continue.
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[Recap] STRANGER THINGS 2, Episodes 1-5: What Goes Up, Must Come Upside Down
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[Recap] STRANGER THINGS 2, Episodes 1-5: What Goes Up, Must Come Upside Down
Stranger Things just debuted its second season on Netflix. Last year’s breakout viral sensation garnered critical acclaim and audience goodwill for its heady mix of nostalgia and horror, appearing on multiple end of year lists and snagging two Golden Globe nominations.
So how does the “sequel” (as series creators The Duffer Brothers have taken to calling it) fare? Read on for my recap of the first five episodes of season two.
Overall thoughts on Season 2
Immediate thoughts upon finishing the season: it’s more of the same, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The Duffer Brothers clearly know the show and their audience and even if at times they’re prone to replicating elements from Season One, I would argue that the season wraps up in a more satisfying fashion. Noah Schnapp (Will) proves to be the show’s secret weapon: the young actor has an uncanny ability to play a range of different roles to perfection. Bonus points for a more successful climax in round two, as well.
Episodic Breakdown
As people make their way through the new episodes, Nightmare on Film Street has prepared episodic recaps so be sure to bookmark this page and come back when you finish each episode. Look for the recap of episodes six – nine tomorrow.
Will doesn’t fit in in the season premiere of Stranger Things “Mad Max”
Episode 1 – “Mad Max”
Online chatter suggested the first episode back was slow, but ‘MadMax’ is simply a table setter. We need this reintroduction to Hawkins, Indiana and its denizens in order to set up the season. That means introducing new characters like Sean Astin’s Bob, Paul Reiser’s creepy Dr. Owens and new schoolmates Billy (Dacre Montgomery) and the titular Max (Sadie Sink) – though neither of the kids are given much to do.
“Mad Max” has a few intriguing supernatural occurrences to whet our appetite, including the mysterious poisoning at the pumpkin patch, the lit up control board at Hawkins Laboratory and, of course, Will’s visions of the looming insect-like threat (which would be more striking if it hadn’t been spoiled in Every.Single.Trailer). As for everyone’s favourite Eggo-eating, telepathic feral little girl, the Duffer Brothers naturally keep Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) hidden until the very end of the episode as one of several examples of characters keeping secrets from each other.
At once point, Dr. Owens tells Joyce (Winona Ryder) that things will get worst before they get better. For her, that’s terrible news. For Stranger Things viewers, that can only means good things ahead.
Odds and Ends:
The cold open features a series of unknown characters getting chased by police before one passenger displays Eleven-like powers that allows them to escape. This will clearly be paid off later (see episode seven in tomorrow’s recap – or rather don’t), but for now, it’s little more than a distraction from our reintroduction to Hawkins.
Danger looms for Will on Halloween night in 2×02 “Trick or Treat, Freak”
Episode 2 – “Trick or Treat, Freak”
First off, let’s address the ridiculous #JusticeForBarb storyline that’s dominating the Nancy (Natalia Dyer) and Steve (Joe Keery) story line. The Duffer Brothers clearly want to address the outcry for the fan favourite from Season One, but can we all agree that they’re leaning into it a little too much? Thankfully all it takes is one drunk party for the real fireworks to come out: Nancy drunkenly confesses about the inadequacies of her relationship with Steve and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) gets to put the object of his affection to bed. Just remember kids: repression is bad because it manifests as a giant red punch stain on the front of your First Lady/Figure Skater costume.
The other element that stands out about episode two is that there’s a lot more comedy: the four boys are the only ones who dress up for Halloween at school, Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) and Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) struggle to speak to Max, Eleven passes her time watching soaps and dimwitted Officer Callahan (John Reynolds) mistakenly touches poisoned crops with his bare hands.
That last piece – the mysterious crop damage storyline – also begins to take shape as we learn that most of Hawkins’ farms have been affected by a mysterious poison, hinting at bigger things to come.
Odds and Ends:
Are the Duffer Brothers candy addicts? First Will and Dr. Owens debate Reese’s Pieces last episode and now there’s a prolonged discussion about the terribleness of 3 Musketeers bars? (Which, for the record, are delicious)
Initially it seemed like this episode was going to offer more insight about contentious siblings Billy and Max, but aside from their chicken-inspired driving on the highway, they remain obscure figures on the periphery. What’s their deal?
Bob and Joyce share a quiet moment in 2×03 “The Pollywog”
Episode 3 – “The Pollywog”
While I appreciate the effort being put into developing Sheriff Hopper (David Harbour) and Eleven’s relationship, I don’t think that the amount of screen time dedicated to this plot line is well spent. Three episodes in and we’re seeing the same content covered repeatedly: she was lost in the woods in winter, Hopper found her after a few feral encounters and they set up a temporary home with three “don’t be stupid” rules. We get it Stranger Things. At this point it just feels like the Duffer Brothers are delaying bringing Eleven back together with the gang.
Thankfully the second season’s dual mythology plot lines continue to develop nicely:
Hopper enlists Dr. Owens to investigate the contagion affecting the crops, which we learn is accounting for the odd smell that Billy and Max described in the last episode.
Meanwhile, Dustin names the “pollywog” creature that he finds in his trash D’Artagnan (because 80s!). A quick examination of the new species reveals that D’Art is a) afraid of the light b) growing exponentially and c) tied to the thing that Will spit into his sink at the end of Season One. Unfortunately the unnatural occurrences end in disaster when Will takes Bob‘s advice to confront the monster head on and he’s literally infected by the smoke monster from his visions. Oops!
Odds and Ends:
Was anyone else surprised to see Shirts vs Skins in gym class was a real thing? I won’t lie: all of these scenes felt remarkably homoerotic. It’s tantamount to a late night flick on Cinemax.
The aftermath of Will’s attack in 2×04 “Will The Wise”
Episode 4 – “Will The Wise”
After the cliffhanger possession ending of the last episode, we pick right up with Will, who claims not to remember what happened to him. After some prodding by Joyce, Will reveals that the creature wanted inside him and their parasitic relationship is deepened when Will refuses to take a hot bath, proclaiming “He likes it cold.”
When Hopper finally arrives at the Byers residence (following an uncomfortable battle of wills with Eleven after she abuses his 3 rules), there’s no narrative clarity about what’s happening, but it still feels like forward momentum. The result – Will confiding in Hopper and Joyce, Mike (Finn Wolfhard) revealing Will’s secret to Dustin and Lucas – makes “Will The Wise” the most satisfying episode of the season to date.
Unfortunately I simply cannot care about the stuff with Nancy and Jonathan and Barb’s mom. The only element of this story line that worked for me was the editing of the sequence in the park, which effectively highlighted Nancy and Jonathan‘s paranoia. The suggestion that these high school students could pull off a covert sting operation against the Hawkins Lab guys is a bit of a laugh, but we’ll see where it goes.
Odds and Ends:
Eleven‘s investigation into her history hits the jackpot when she discovers Hawkins Lab boxes hidden under the floor of Hopper‘s cabin. From there she’s able to connect with her very-much-alive mom, who identifies Eleven as “Jane” before disappearing in a literal puff of smoke.
I’m definitely losing interest in Billy and Max‘s storyline. Is there anything more to this than the fact that he’s racist?
RIP Mews. It always sucks when animals are killed on TV and that poor dead kitty didn’t deserve to be D’Art’s snack. 🙁
Will’s illness is finally address in 2×05 “Dig Dug”
Episode 5 – “Dig Dug”
This is essentially a “choose your own adventure” episode. Most of the characters venture off on their own: Hopper spends the episode foolishly investigating the tunnel system without back-up; Joyce, Mike, Will and Bob decode Will‘s drawings; Lucas catches Max up to speed, and Nancy and Jonathan and Eleven go on separate road trips.
I definitely appreciated the grotty visuals of what Hopper encounters in the tunnels (the blast to the face by a not-at-all-anus-like vine is particularly visceral and icky). Meanwhile Bob earns his high school “Brain” nickname when he deduces that the drawings are a map of Hawkins, though admittedly, hadn’t we all figured this out well in advance? It seems pretty obvious.
The two mythologies finally collide when Will‘s map leads to Hopper, whose survival ironically depends on his smoking habit. Luckily Joyce, Bob and the Hawkins Lab army show up just in time, ending the episode on another cliffhanger when it is revealed (unsurprisingly) that Will‘s physical health is connected to the tunnel vines and he winds up in Grand Mal territory.
Odds and Ends:
I’m glad that Dustin is no longer acting stupid about how dangerous D’Art is. It was evident from the start that the unknown creature was dangerous and “Dig Dug” confirms that as D’Art grows, he becomes more of an (unnatural) threat.
Let’s take a moment to recognize the comedic genius of Lucas‘ sister Erica (Priah Ferguson), who is officially the Dustin of this season. She’s equal parts annoying and hilarious. I love her.
Finally, Eleven‘s storyline continues to (annoyingly) exist completely outside of the main narrative. This episode she meets her Aunt Becky (Amy Seimetz), a Clea DuVall-esque woman looking after her mother. What follows is essentially a redo of Season One: Eleven‘s mom communicates via flickering lights and there’s a whole extended flashback that’s basically the Stranger Things version of Hodor’s “Hold The Door” backstory from Game of Thrones.
Check back tomorrow for recaps of the final four episodes of season two. In the interim, leave your impressions below in the comments!
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