#i had one calling me a prom queen (valid) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

safyresky · 5 months

Text

This was the most anticlimactic finale I have EVER seen in my life??

IT WAS SO. ANTICLIMACTIC. LIKE. THE MAD SANTA AND SCOTT STANDOFF? THE UN-NUTCRACKERING OF MY BOY???? SANDRA'S POWERS??? I JUST. WHERE IS THE GROWTH. WHY CAN'T THEY GIVE US MORE TIME FOR ALL THE GROWTH. AH. BAD!

On that note, tho, things I actually quite liked, maybe even LOVED???? I thoroughly enjoyed the episode. Well, MOST of it. Especially:

Betty and Olga's whole toymaking thing lol that was cute and sweet

NOEL! EVERYTHING NOEL! TAKING CHARGE! BROKERING A PEACE! AMAZING

Kris tagging along, lol, what a vibe. "Holy crap! Ice bergs???!?!?!?!" (chokes on a bug)

Mad Santa and Olga acknowledging their toxicity with one another

Sandra calling Cal Buddy, THANK YOU QUEEN

Sandra's whole VIBE tbh. The witchy/goth prom look, her powers being like. Based on Christmas spirit!

Betty and Olga AGAIN, I really really REALLY loved how that went and LOVED how they were like "we're really quite the same"

Meanwhile Noel and the rest of the gnomes are like "Oh! Glad y'all caught up! Tea?"

Good for Magnus, going back and performing!! Good for him!!! I loved seeing him THRIVE with the sax!!!

and I'm really glad Magnus was like "Kris's place made me feel JOY", we LOVE TO SEE PEOPLE WITH CHRISTMAS SPIRIT REASSURED AND VALIDATED!

Everything about Mrs. Claus tbh. Carol, my belovedddddd~ freaking out about Buddy and and and having the RANGE, GOD, Elizabeth Mitchell fans, you are all SO RIGHT!

So basically everything that DIDN'T involve Santa? I'm kinda shooketh. Why was that episode so chill compared to all the other ones??? I obtained MINIMAL psychic damage (perhaps I have an immunity now??? WHO'S TO SAY!)

Santa's lines are all delivered so unenthusiastically and he just. GOD. You know how in The Christmas Invasion Ten looks at Harriet Jones, Prime Minister, then goes over to her assistant and is like "doesn't she look tired"? I feel like we could totally do that to Tomothy and just. End him. Then and there.

KRIS. He's really cool. Like I unironically enjoy him. He a little naive but BOY DOES HE HAVE THE SPIRIT! AND I LOVE THAT! Honestly, they could've had him be the next Santa and he'd be AMAZING at it tbh! he was very underused and that was a SHAME. Remember in episode 1 when we saw his dad for like 3 seconds and I thought "wow we could have a whole father figure angle here!" as if the writing in this show could actually decently do something like this

Get his ass count for this episode: about 5

Again, I keep getting hung up on the weird choices and the lore????????

Weird choices: having the underlying theme of Betty/Olga fight being I WANT THAT TOY NO IT'S MINE was weird?? You could've done it differently to get them to the Workshop to chat. you could have had them call one another out with their toymaking skills? And go from there?????? IT WOULD'VE BEEN EASY TO DO

Weird choices: Bringing Kris up??? I LOVED it, he was perf comedic relief--like, if anyone in this universe should have loony toon powers (see: him appearing in the cell behind Mad Santa and everyone being like OH YOU'RE HERE TOO), it's Kris. 100%

My mood @ Kris is very much:

yes. I made a meme about it. I just really appreciate him, especially in this episode? HE'S JUST FULL OF CRIBMAS SPIRIT!!! FUCK!

Lore things I had issues with:

1. "But a witch...born at the North Pole...could!"

2. "You've got a history"/"I've read your history! You were a GREAT Santa!" and also "Way to go Noel! I always KNEW you'd make a great head elf!"

3. "Storied apex of the globe"

(not direct quotes)

"But a witch...born at the North Pole...COULD"

As a disclaimer: I quite like Sandra having cribmas witch magic, and I like the idea that she's a lil different bc of being born at the Pole. HOWEVER. The execution/explanation is...mid. WHY is it that Sandra being a human witch born at the NP CAN un-nutcracker Cal??? Where is the EXPLANATION!??!!? WHAT ABOUT IT MAKES HER DIFFERENT FROM OTHER WITCHES? IS IT BECAUSE OF THE "storied apex of the globe" COMMENT NOEL MAKES WHEN HE'S BEING A BAMF AND HYPING UP THE GNOMES? IS IT LEY LINES??? LIKE. WHAT IS THE EXPLANATION?

I would be FINE with suspending my disbelief if they had maybe just GIVEN THE CONCEPTS AND CHARACTERS TIME TO GROW!!! You could've rewritten the whole entire "we're stealing doing Easter!" episode and instead SOLELY FOCUS ON MAGIC. Have Befana react more mildly and go "this is different, come along" and bring Sandy to her lil cabin while they try to figure it out and THEN drop the "she was born at the NP and this is why she ca do such a powerful spell" and then have someone go what why?? AND BOOM. BEFANA GIVES US EXPOSITION, WE LEARN, SANDRA CAN HAVE A PLOTTY ARC WHERE SHE'S LIKE "no, I can't do that, that's. Girl that's crazy" to have the build to her un-nutcrackering Buddy have more of an OOMPF, you know? IT'S THAT EASY. ARGH.

2. "you've got a history/I've read your history" (A) and "I always knew you could do it Noel!" (B)

2. a) HOW COULD YOU HAVE READ THE HISTORY WHEN THE ELVES RIPPED OUT THE PAGE AND BURNT IT? WAS IT YOUR SANTA SENSES? HELLO? IF SO, WHY DIDN'T THEY SHOW US MORE OF THAT?? MAYBE SUBPLOT FOR SCOTT WHILE SANDY IS LEARNING ABOUT HER COOL MAGIC, HE'S LIKE OKAY. INTO THE YULE VERSE, LET'S LEARN ABOUT MAD SANTA. AND GIVE IT SOME PROPER TIME TO BE ESTABLISHED! LET SCOTT SEE HOW MAGNUS WAS BEFORE HE GOT PARANOID AND DISPATCHED BY THE ELVES! THEN MAYBE. JUST MAYBE. THE ANTI-CLIMATIC SANTA VS SANTA SHOWDOWN WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN AS ANTI-CLIMACTIC BECAUSE SCOTT BE KNOWING THAT MAGNUS WAS GOOD AND IS JUST HAVING SOME RELATABLE ISSUES, AND THE PAYOFF WOULD BE BETTER!

2. b)

OH REALLY. DID YOU SANTA? DID YOU? BECAUSE I HAVE MOTHER FUCKING RECEIPTS:

I REST MY FUCKING CASE, SANTA.

(also I got a DAMN GOOD Noel snip. You GO NOEL. SHOW SCOTT WHO'S THE FUCKING BOSS! YEAH!!!! YEAH BABY!!!)

3. "The storied apex of the globe."

YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THIS ON ME. ON ALL OF US. AND NOT ELABORATE. ARE YOU IMPLYING THAT ALL THE STORY CREATURES LIVE AT THE NORTH POLE BC IT'S AN APEX? A NEXUS? FUCKING ELABORATE ON THAT! ADD IT TO THE REWRITTEN STEAL EASTER EPISODE. STOP DUMPING LORE WITHOUT ELABORATING. WHAT! DOES! IT! MEAN! AHHHHH (explodes)

(reconstitutes)

Whew! Glad I got all that out of my system!!!

Other odds and ends that did NOT hit:

"I went to MIT" I'm with Edie on this one tbh. Also, where is the MUFFIN institute of tech. At the North Pole? WHERE??? YOU CAN'T DROP HINTS THAT ALL MAGICAL CREATURES ARE THERE AND NOWHERE ELSE WITH AN AREA THAT SMALL. THAT'S WHY CRYSTAL SPRINGS IS A GD CONTINENT OF A LANDMASS!!!! AH!

ANTICLIMACTIC SANTA VS SANTA MOMENT! IT WAS SO DRY AND DROLL AND JUST. IT DID N O T HIT. SEE ABOVE POINTS.

ALL OF SANTA SCOTT'S BITS. SO FLAT AND DRY!!!!! SOMEONE PUSH HIM OFF A ROOF AND MAKE SURE HE S T A Y S DOWN

Mad Santa about 100 times: "I'M NOT A DUMB STUPID HUMAN LIKE YOU" THEN WHAT ARE YOU?!?!?!?!?!?

I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING FOR CAROL TO HAVE MORE OF AN ARC THAN "overbearing mom" AND "token WE PASSED FEMINISM" rep, especially with Elizabeth Mitchell putting her WHOLE ASS SELF INTO IT! SHE HAS THE RANGE! A SHAME SHE'S STUCK WITH FLAT ASS TOMOTHY AND GLASS CEILING REFERENCES!!!

HECK, I'D LOVE IT IF BOTH PARENTS HAD MORE TIME TO REALIZE THEY WEREN'T BEING GREAT! OR EVEN, DIDN;T HAVE THAT PLOTLINE AND WERE JUST TRYING TO BE SUPPORTIVE BUT NOT SURE HOW TO GO ABOUT IT AND MAKING MISTAKES BUT LEARNING TO FIX EM!

I sighed loud enough to wake the entire neighbourhood ALL TWO REWATCHES WHEN THEY SHOEHORNED THE MOVIE FLASHBACKS IN. WHEN THEY REVEALED THAT KRIS WAS THE HOUSE OF KAYAK KID FROM TSC 1. WHEN THEY THREW ALL THE OLD "he is drinking out of the mug SEE IT'S ALWAYS BEEN HERE" flashback sequence in. uGH S T O P!!!! IT WAS BAD IN THE THIRD MOVIE AND IT'S W O R S E IN THE SERIES

(in Yzma voice) WHY DOES HE EVEN HAVE THAT AMULET? BC HE'S SECRETIVE? GIVE ME MORE INFO!!! (flips a table)

CURTIS EXPLODED. CURTIS WENT TO KRIBBLE KRABBLE AND NEVER CAME BACK. WAS THAT BEFORE OR AFTER HE EXPLODED??? (@shittyelfwriter and I both agree AFTER lol)

I figure he was patient 0 for Curtis-itis, hence the name! Maybe almost 'sploded but instead went nope! I need to kribble krabble!

I mean, he would uphold it, of course, the MOMENT after he became head elf bc he loves rules so heckin much lol

Regardless, MAKE UP YOUR MIND!

An aside: I read an article talking about that piece of info and the person who wrote it was like "Curtis stans will be happy to know (we know you're out there!)"

(me, squinting) where. where. I don't see them. I see the Elizabeth Mitchell/Carol stans (on occasion. I stumble into them like I made a wrong turn lol). The Bernard stans (how could you NOT see them they're everyone lol), The JACK STANS (guilty as fucking charged), but have yet to see CURTIS STANS. Mostly just Curtis appreciators??? y'all are cool tho. He is a funky lil stressed out nerd. Deffs NOT a management guy lol. Give him a couple hundred or so more years first :-)

HOW AND WHY DID MAGNUS GO INTO THE JAIL. WE ARE MISSING A SCENE. BIG TIME. WHERE DID IT GO. YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE CUT THAT ONE MY DUDES. MAYBE THE FLUFFY EATS A FLY WHILE IN THE SLEIGH BIT SHOULD'VE BEEN AXED INSTEAD SINCE FLIES DON'T GO THAT HIGH! WHY IS MAD SANTA THERE AND H O W DID HE PASS THE BLOCKADE OF PEOPLE??? HELLO???

Just. Just let Cal go to prom. Don't bring prom to him. Please. Please let him and Riley have ONE brain cell at LEAST. Technology isn't rotting our brains THAT badly. It's just pushing censoring and making younger gens forget what critical thinking skills are!

God, now I sound like Tomothy. VIBE CHECK ON AISLE SAFYRESKY!

Also, Riley, stop trying to steal @snowqueenjacqueline's DRIP GIRLIE. LIGHT BLUE? SNOWFLAKES? WHAT'S JACQUELINE SUPPOSED TO WEAR TO NORTH POLE PROM NOW?!?!!?

And I think that's it?? I think I got it all out of my system. WHEW.

Season thoughts: Ouch. Brain hurty. Andie you were SO RIGHT with the disjointed bit. TOO MUCH LORE. TOO MUCH THROWING BACK. NOT ENOUGH EXPLANATIONS/GROWING TIME. CHARACTER ARCS ARE ONCE MORE NONEXISTENT. THEY JUST HAPPEN AND WE DON'T SEE THEM. SOMEHOW BETTER THAN SEASON 1???? BUT STILL. NOT GREAT! Mid, mostly. Not great! Nothing to write home about tbh.

And now. I end this lengthy ass review with some snips of my FAVOURITE part of the entire season:

#dani speaks #the santa clause #the santa clauses #tscs spoilers #tscs meta #tscs wank #there's a bit of both. but quite honestly?? overall???#this episode was enjoyable. high rewatchability #and uh. heh. and screencap ability huehuehuheuheue #the last santa gets wasted image gave me a gr8 idea. will post in a mo #huehuehuehuehue #tscs #tscs2 #dani watches tscs2 #long post

5 notes · View notes

maggotmouth · 3 years

Text

hillo sexthy legends !! i’m nora and i’ll be writing margo colby n probs sm1 else bcos lets be real, i lack self-control. u can find her pinterest here n some info abt her sexy self below the cut. plot with me on discord ( hot girl midsommar#8664 ) or in my ims !! x o x

* CAMILA MORRONE, CIS WOMAN + SHE / HER | you know MARGO COLBY, right? they’re TWENTY-THREE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, ELEVEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to SCRAWNY BY WALLOWS like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole BLEACH WHITE SNEAKERS POUNDING ON A GYMNASIUM FLOOR, USING THE SAME BLUNT SCISSORS TO HACK THE SLEEVES OFF AN EXES T-SHIRT THAT YOU USE TO CUT YOUR 3AM FRINGE, A WALNUT-SHAPED ACHE IN THE PIT OF YOUR STOMACH FOR THE PERSON YOU COULD HAVE BEEN thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is AUGUST 8TH, so they’re a LEO, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nora, 25, gmt, she/her )

CLICK ANYWHERE ON THIS SENTENCE FOR SEXII GOOGLE DOC!!

bullet point summary of margo.

— born margaret but NOBODY calls her that. its colby, coach or margo, and go to the privileged few. margo grew up in the creek commune n then dropped out of school cos of a teenage pregnancy so she was a bit of a cautionary tale back in’t’day (said tht in my yorkshire accent). she now works for summer camps coaching pee wee soccer and pee wee cheer, as well as helping out her beekeeper dad on his honey farm, which is jst north of abernathy creek, and working at scuba on the off seasons.

— its just her and her dad, and has been for as long as she can recall !! everything she knows about her mum could fit on the back of the weathered passport photo she keeps in her wallet of a stranger who shares her face - her name’s melody, or at least tht was name she used when working as a dancer, she’s from argentina and dropped mag’s dad as soon as someone w more money came along.

— margo’s father is a beekeeper with his own organic honey company. margo and her dad moved to irving in the early 00s, the summer between grade school and middle school, because her dad had heard about the communal living in abernathy creek and wanted to lend his skills there and live off the fatta the land in a very lenny from of mice and men kinda way.

— for a few years of middle school margo was bullied for living with the ‘freaks from the creek’, but when they realised how chill her dad was with underage drinking, margo ‘keg-bringer’ colby soon gained popularity among the more renegade students. every so often, the high school parties would happen at her end of town, occasionally with members of the commune even offering the high schoolers a spiritual experience they’d never forget (often in the form of mushrooms) which meant people tried to stay on her good side. to get an invite to a margo colby party handed you a free pass to make up the most ridiculous shit about the commune you liked and nobody else could say anything, because they’d never been to the creek.

— at school, margo had a lot of ‘behvioural issues’ bcos of undiagnosed adhd, she found it difficult to sit still for hours n write down huge chunks of information n her restlessness was seen as laziness. she was encouraged to do sports, as were most of the kids who weren’t that academically inclined, but she turned out to be pretty hot shit at sprinting, because she grew up surrounded by bee houses and he who runs slowest gets stung, baybeyy!! so yea, in school sports became her LIFE. she was gonna get a sports scholarship to college but ended up dropping out of school in senior year n becoming one of those kids who could have had it all but lost it.

— she had sex with sutter at a house party when she wasnt really ready because it felt like the right thing to do at the time and everybody else was doing it. she’d attended health class, she’d seen the corny videos. she knew about all the statistics, but she also knew that it had never happened to anyone she knew and the pull out method was basically safer than the morning after pill and way less expensive.

— a teenage pregnancy knocked her out of the runnings for prom queen and meant she had to leave school early. she didn’t go to college when her friends did, instead she spent the time interviewing potential foster candidates and eating her weight in lindt chocolate while marathoning love island in her room.

— she had a son, who she passed off to someone else a couple of towns away. it was a closed adoption which seemed like the best idea at the time, but she now wishes she had access to his life.

— after peaking in high school and jumping between jobs for a few years, she got a more permanent role at scuba which she loves with all of her heart and soul, but unfortunately a bar job doesn’t pay the rent.

— she works at summer camps coaching junior soccer and netball on the side. she’s extremely competitive and takes it very personally if her team lose. the kids all call her, coach colby n write her longwinded letters about how they’ll never forget this summer camp before they go back to their suburban picket fence houses n she keeps all the letters in a drawer n takes them out to read when she’s feelin depressed.

— enjoys surfing and worked for a number of years on resorts like mila kunis’ job in forgetting sarah marshall. she went on to work 18-hour days as a stewardess on luxury yachts which is a part of her backstory i added after watching season one of below deck because i guess i really am that fucking impressionable. met most of her surf friends doing tht but said she’d never in her life do it again bcos it was mostly just picking up after rich white ppl for shit pay. she came back to irving n thats when she started doing the summer camp jobs so she could move out of the creek n get her own apartment.

— she never actually finished senior year so she’s currently going to night school at the community college to get through her exams and is trying to save to go to college or open university. she wants to major in criminology. she’s super ambitious but also super adhd so she fluctuates between thinking she can achieve anything to just feeling like a failure n thinkin whats the point

— used to shoplift to feel joy and as an act of resistance to her hippy commune routes, but now sees herself as a reformed, bin-diving freegan (sims 4 eco living can i get a hell yaaaa). also she thinks it’s totally wrong to steal when you have enough money and clearly don’t need to steal to survive, ppl risk imprisonment for basic necessities, so for her to do it for a brief thrill and some new shades felt a bit derogatory

— was raised jewish. became a vegetarian as a child because it seemed, at the time, easier than having to explain which foods she was and wasn’t allowed to eat together, so she just cut out meat entirely. still a vegetarian now and dabbles in veganism, although its become less about not eating certain meats in the milk of their mother and more about her global impact / carbon footprint

— nurses little animals to health in her garden. has a hedgehog name OJ short for orange juice not the other one filthy pig. her and her dad have always been huge animal rights activists and existed on a vegetarian diet. the only one in their house who isn’t vegetarian is their cat, auggie. (short 4 augustus gloop)

— has a lot of stupid ass stick and poke tattoos. there was a phase during her years as a barmaid where she wanted to train as a tattoo artist n would mostly practice on herself or any friends who would let her

— she doesn’t form many long lasting friendships cos she tends to be super excited when she makes a new friend and just see them all the time but then it wears off and she can ghost a bit. she’ll always coming pinging back but she’s not the most predictable or loyal friend, sometimes she’ll sleep in your house every night for a week and then you won’t even get a text from her for a month. her best friends are elderly neighbours and houseless people she meets when volunteering at the foodbank. she thinks they’re more authentic than most of the ‘fake posers’ she meets down the vela pier

— calls herself a butch lesbian but still has sex with men when she wants validation. sexually attracted to some men, especially effeminate men, but only romantically attracted to women. very possessive of the gals in her life.

— stopped giving a shit about getting older or adhering to anyone elses bullshit standards, realised it was all fake p much as soon as she dropped out of school and one by one her friends just stopped texting her

— lives in one of the lofts in port apartments. it’s open plan with rugs and lava lamps everywhere. she has a palette bed. its all very ‘sustainable chic’. like, oh wow, a pallet bed that im supposed to think you made from scratch but i KNOW you got it off ebay because you thought it looked trendy

— constantly says shes poor but still buys clothes from urban outfitters. sus.

— frequently found at fannies flirting with the cute bisexual bartender with a choppy black bob.

general vibe / personality

vibrant, vulgar, self-absorbed, tenacious, veers bewteen apathetic and dogmatic, temperamental, flighty, unreliable, magnetic, charismatic, passive aggressive, likes to play devil’s advocate, takes the moral high ground. estp and a leo

likes: 70s music, john wayne movies, black mirror, philosophy, cowboy chic culture, dc comics, the smell of locker rooms,, deep red lipstick, lacrosse sticks, smoking weed from a bong, dogs, karaoke, pet rats, kate moss, late-night strolls, hawaaiian shirts worn open over a bralette, skinned knees, thai food, picking the apples at the very top of the trees, zip-lining, cigarettes, the idea of pegging but not the practical application of it, decorative lamps, LGBTQ+ pin badges, worn-out furniture, twangy electric guitars.

dislikes: girls who call other girls ‘pick me’ girls, woody allen movies, mental mathematics, wealthy children, quentin tarantino, ironing, institutionalised misogyny, the imaginary future, french literature, ‘dump him’ feminism, wes anderson films, spoken word poetry nights, college-educated bar staff who act like they’re better than you, indie softbois, the general mentality of cheerleading squads.

aesthetics

orange peel, the smell of bleach, skeleton drawings in the margins of a journal, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, bleach white sneakers pounding on a gymnasium floor, setting dumpsters on fire for the hell of it. a hit flask of vodka decorated with hello kitty stickers, split knuckles, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, a child in an oversize bee keepers suit, scabbed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

hoo boy this is getting LONG AS FUCK but here are my wanted plots

wanted plots

ok margo’s been in irving since she was like 10. she’s quite a vivacious person?? she dresses completely instinctively without any sense of cohesion so she stands out. a guy once told her she was wearing the ugliest outfit he’d ever seen and he thought that was so cool and brave of her. but anyway where was i going.. she grew up in the abernathy creek so stuck out like a sore thumb,,,, maybe ppl who were super interested in the creek or maybe poked fun at her bcos of it idk.....

b4 she dropped out, margo used 2 b in with the cool kids at school bcos her dad would buy them booze and rarely ask for the money. maybe a fun plot cld b with some of the ‘it girls’ she used to hang around with b4 she got pregnant n dropped out and they all went off to college n stopped texting her.

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! some1 she feels like she knew before irving ???

since margo literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships. fwbs. enemies with benefits. all the angst. all the slow burn mutual pining we hate each other narratives

locals who play sports. margo wld be all over community soccer n take it way too seriously. maybe ppl she plays hockey with. girls who she’s like, weirdly intimate with but its not a thing cos the other girls straight !!! what do u mean !! aha just fun !

she works part time at scuba. i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry.

she's also a surf instructor and occasionally works as a lifeguard!! gal has like 7 jobs ik but regular swimmers hmu

ppl she coaches at the gym !! she wants to be a personal trainer

i reckon she might have recently started meditating to try and calm down her mind cos its always bustling with thoughts, n i think she’s p interested in buddhism so if anyone’s a buddhist hmu

someone she’s trying to make a zine with on female empowerment and women in film and art, etc. just a very feminist zine.

TLDR: angry sports gay, former high school track prodigy turned drop out, who likes feminist literature, wearing leather jackets over slip dresses, and smudged red lipstick.

this was so long !!! im sorry !! if you’ve read this far have a biscuit, love x

#aaaaaaa #we back boys #irvingintro #hmu for plots bayybeyyy

10 notes · View notes

keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Welcome To Backwater ch.3 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is getting out and meeting new people, if only things weren’t a little...ominous.

Content: Spicyhoney, Midwest Gothic

~~*~~

Read Chapter Three on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The thing was, Stretch had never really lived on his own. For most of his life, he’d lived with his brother. Taking care of Blue when he was a kiddo, then sort of swapping roles for a while as they got older. By the time they were on the surface, they had a pretty good give and take going when it came to cohabitation. Living with his bro was never the problem.

It was moving back in with him after everything went down that was the hard part. His sympathy felt more like stifling pity, the relentless cheer Stretch normally adored was grating, and as much as Stretch loved his brother, (and he did, his brother was the coolest and fuck anyone who didn’t see that), he just…he couldn’t. Not right now.

That all came to a head and landed him on the midnight bus to anywhere and living here essentially alone was turning into a balancing act between being necessarily solitary and lonely enough to start befriending the local spooks, and now look at him.

Standing in Red’s living room and armed with a lamp shaped like a flamingo, probably about to be murdered for the hundred bucks in the front register and Red’s shitty microwave, and his first stupid thought was, holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

Not that it wasn’t a valid thought, but it didn’t do much to better the situation. A skeleton Monster (another one? really?) that was almost as tall as he was, but instead of Stretch’s scrawny bod and knobby knees poking out of his cargo shorts, this guy looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ’s leather edition, available only with a valid ID. From those slender hips with all the right curves all the way up to the delicate intricacies of his cervical vertebra, he was like a book written in braille, begging for a touch. Those cheekbones alone were sharp enough to do more damage than any damn lamp, fuck, he should have to carry a weapons license for those things, they were sure as hell giving Stretch a good stab in the libido.

Mystery guy only stood there in Red living room, cool and calm in spite of the fact he was wearing a sleek leather jacket and knee-high damn motorcycle boots, (fuck, those legs), on a sweltering day. Didn’t even bother to pull his hands out of his jeans pockets, like he was hanging around patiently for a fucking takeout order instead of starring in a home invasion.

The guy raised a browbone, and fuck, how did even the scar running through his socket seem sexy? “Well?” Mystery Man said, “Nothing else to say?”

That broke the spell. Well, kinda, holy shit, take two. That voice, it was almost rich enough to pour into a cup, but damn, if Sugar Tongue here dusted Red, what was Stretch gonna tell the cops? That he was too busy getting seduced by those dark molasses wiles to do anything about it?

Stretch brandished the lamp again and blustered out, “i asked you first!”

The guy sighed heavily and for half an idiot second, Stretch felt bad for disappointing him. “If we’re going to continue down this path of childish competition, then I was here first. Would you care to offer a rebuttal? Or is that word too complicated for you, I’d make an attempt to bring it down to your level, but I don’t have the time to journey back out of the realm of stupidity today.”

That was enough to snap him out of this guy’s erotic stupidity spell. Great, he was a murderer and a dick, Stretch should’ve known. No one with hips like that could be on the side of good. He raised the lamp again threateningly, flamingo-beak facing front, “the only butt around here is gonna be yours when i kick it!”

The guy only rolled his eye lights, deep crimson, huh, how about that. “Ah, how refreshing it is to have a chance to engage in such cunning debate,” he drawled. “But as enchanting as this has been, let me interrupt the vigilante plotline you seem to be starting. I’m only here to drop off a package for my brother.”

“brother?” Stretch parroted dumbly. Oh. Ohhhhh, for fuck’s sake he was an idiot. Red eye lights, skeleton monster, all he was missing was a fucking name tag that said, ‘Red’s Tall Brother, Please Do Not Ambush.’

Well, that was one way to make a first impression.

Stretch sheepishly lowered the lamp, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “oh. uh, sorry about that, i’m a little on edge.”

“On edge, are you,” the guy repeated. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in a sardonic little smile, another sign of the unfairness of life that it only made him look even more appealing, if that were possible. Sex on legs and that voice? Some guys cheated to role for charisma twice was all Stretch was saying. “Ah, aren’t life’s little ironies precious.”

Before Stretch could figure out what the heck that meant, he heard the familiar thump and bump of Red hurrying down the hallway. The door was flung open hard enough to bounce against the opposite wall and Red paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. His brother standing there is all his sexy glory, completely unconcerned and weaponless, and Stretch still sweaty and disheveled from trekking through the heat outside, standing there with a lamp in his hands trying to look like he hadn’t been ready to bonk the guy on the noggin like the first chapter of an Agatha Christie novel.

Red was snickering before Stretch could even scramble for any sort of excuse, “whatcha gonna do with the lamp, armstrong, knock his lights out?”

“i was improvising,” Stretch mumbled. He plunked the hideous thing back on the table, fumbling to plug it back in. "you didn't tell me you had a brother."

"no?” Red set both hands on the top of his cane to lean against it and innocent was not a voice he wore well, nope. “musta slipped my mind."

"Your mind is ever slippery, brother," said brother put forth in a clipped tone, "Somehow, you managed to forget to mention this…person…to me as well."

"and 'cause i did you got to have an excitin' first meeting,” Red said, abandoning innocence for pure mischief. He gave them both a broad wink, “ain't that right?"

About the only thing Stretch and this guy had in common was the mutual dirty looks they gave back to that.

“only if you get your thrills from a criminal sort of meet and greet,” Stretch said.

"Yes," the brother said irritably, "Very exciting. And now that we’ve all confirmed who I am, would you care to explain who this is?”

Red’s grin widened, his gold tooth winking in the mellow sunlight streaming in through the tatty curtains. “my new clerk.”

“Your—” That irritation melted into horror as the guy’s spine went ruler-straight as if someone jammed a yardstick up his ass before he blustered out, “have you lost your tiny little mind?”

Stretch couldn’t help feeling a little insulted. It was a little grocery store, not the Ritz, they didn’t need all their cheese on the crackers to manage selling ‘em, thanks.

Red didn’t seem bothered by his brother’s disbelief, he only shrugged, “nah. don’t think so, anyway.” Then with a touch of acid, “not like you’re around long enough to find out.”

His brother ignored that. Seemed like he was still stuck on Red’s audacity in hiring a clerk. “You have,” he said wonderingly, “You’ve completely lost your mind this time. And you’re keeping him right here in the house?”

“room upstairs, but yeah.” Red sucked on his teeth loudly, grinning his wide, feral grin. “got a problem with that, little brother?”

Conversation briefly ceased as they both seemed to be trying to communicate in glares and Stretch didn’t know enough of the language to interpret, but he didn’t think it was going well. Especially not when the tall drink of brother abruptly turned to him and said, “Go get your things.”

Stretch only gaped at him, too surprised to even protest, of all the fucking arrogance—!

“Go get your things,” he repeated, a touch louder and flavored with a dash of impatience, “and I’ll take you to the bus depot right now.”

“you’re serious,” Stretch said in disbelief. He shook his head with a short laugh, “heh, sorry, champ, not going anywhere on your say-so. besides, i just got here, if i leave now, I’ll never get voted prom queen.”

The other guy’s face didn’t so much as twitch and intensity in that crimson gaze made Stretch want to look away. He resisted, meeting that glare defiantly, even as he said, quietly, “If you stay long enough, leaving won’t be an option.”

Stretch only snorted, seriously, what was with this guy? “and you’re calling your brother a nut?”

He didn’t bother to answer that one, only swung around and pointed an accusing finger in Red’s direction. “This is on you, brother.”

Red only gave him that easy, sharky grin back. “always was.”

Stretch thought that was the end of it. The guy nodded shortly and started towards the door, brushing past Stretch to get to it and that was where he paused. He turned towards Stretch, those red eye lights moving over him searchingly. The end table with its returned lamp was at Stretch’s back, there was nowhere to go as Red’s brother loomed into his personal space, leaning in uncomfortably close, only inches away from Stretch’s collarbone as he sniffed delicately.

“Hm,” he said thoughtfully.

Stretch resisted the urge to give his armpits a testing sniff. “what?”

But he only drew away and gave Red another unreadable look. Red nodded once.

What. The. Fuck?

“Fine,” the guy sighed out. His hands curled into brief fists, sharpened fingertips pressed into his palms. “It’s your problem, brother, you deal with it.”

“don’t i always?”

“Perhaps with the least amount of property damage possible, if you don’t mind.” He gave Stretch another dismissive half-glance. “Now if you’ll excuse me, brother."

He turned and started to walk off and yeesh, even the way he walked caught the eye, damn, hate to see you leave, love to watch those hips go.

Down boy, Stretch told his libido. There was enough weird shit going on and he really didn’t need to take another hike down that path. Besides, with hot stuff constantly looking at him like something to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe, it wasn’t exactly opening the door for romance. He’d had his fill of assholes, a lifetime’s worth, and just case it might be a question, Stretch proved he was still an enormous idiot by calling to that leather-clad back, “didn’t catch your name.”

The guy didn’t even pause. “Then next time you should be a better hunter.”

With that he was out the apartment door. Stretch and Red stood there and listened to the cow bell jangling loudly, the door slamming, and then the roar of an engine speeding away.

Only then did Red speak again, with laconic ease, “if you’re done staring at my baby bro’s ass, y’can come eat with me.”

“i—" wasn’t, Stretch started to say, then shrugged. Busted. “don’t worry, i don’t think i’m his type.”

“don’t think too hard, gonna hurt yourself,” Red said, dry as a mouthful of sand. “what’s the problem, don’t think you got the right size font?”

“let’s not get into that, it’ll take too long,” Stretch tossed back. “and don’t take this the wrong way but your brother is a dick.”

“yeah,” Red said fondly, “ain’t he great? now, before you tried to light up my bro’s life, i was setting up for dinner. if you grab that bag, you can have some, too.”

Stretch followed where Red pointed with his cane to find an insulated bag sitting by the sofa, black because fuck knew Fonzie’s stunt double needed matching accessories. He lugged the bag along as he followed Red back down the hallway into the store, setting it on the counter while Red struggled into the chair. There were a couple of dusty bowls already sitting there next to the beers and Red gave them a cursory wipe with a rag of dubious cleanliness.

“my bro got his own place a while back,” Red unzipped the bag and pulled out a large ceramic casserole dish. “but he still drops off food for me coupla times a week. says that eating at ‘mama’s’ along with a double daily dose of mac and cheese ain’t healthy.”

Stretch watched, reluctantly intrigued. “he doesn’t stick around for dinner?”

“nah, my bro has kinda a special diet.” Red pulled the lid off and steam rose out, along with the gorgeous, rich smell of sinfully delicious food. Long greenish noodles drenched in some sort of glistening sauce with chunks of more green and purple veggies mixed in, and dusted with a heavy sprinkle of parmesan. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything like what they brought to the table at Olive Garden.

Stretch inhaled deeply, his mouth already watering. “holy shit, he cooked this?”

“cooked it, hell,” Red spooned out portions, uncaring about the little drips that fell on the counter and pushing the first bowl over to Stretch. “he makes the pasta by hand. planted the veggies, too, like he’s fucking ol’ macdonald on his farm. he made that stew i gave ya the first night, too.”

Stretch barely heard him because he’d already taken his first bite and had he really thought Red’s brother looked sexy? He was wrong, totally wrong, because this was the sexy, this delectably orgasmic taste exploding across his tongue in a blend of garlic and vinaigrette, carried on perfectly al dente noodles mingling with the bright crunch of zucchini and beets. It was hard not to moan aloud as he chewed down that first bite and went back for another.

“is he single? i changed my mind, holy fuck, i’m gonna marry him and chain him to the stove,” Thoughtlessly said around a mouthful of deliciousness and Stretch winced as he realized what he said, “sorry, sorry, bad joke.”

Red only slurped up more noodles, teeth glistening with oil and the long strands flinging droplets of sauce as he sucked them in. “he’s single, but good luck putting a leash on him. go ahead, ask him out next time he stops by. i could use a good laugh, ‘cause, honey, you two hooking up would be a joke.”

Absurdly stung, Stretch shrugged and tried on a laugh, “hey, i’m a hell of a catch. gainfully employed and everything.”

“oh, yeah, you’re the seafood special, all right.” Red’s sharp teeth sheared easily through the noodles as he took another bite. “rebound fucks never work out, kid.”

“how did you—" Stretch stopped with a groan as Red raised both brow bones mockingly. He slumped back over his bowl, twirling up noodles on his fork. “yeah, yeah, handed that over with gift wrap.”

“yep, you did.” Red clapped Stretch on the shoulder with enough force to make him drop his fork. “the list of reasons people end up in the middle of nowhereville is pretty fucking short, kid, an’ you got that look. don’t worry ‘bout it, you got a place to stay here as long as you want.”

The unexpected kindness from Red of all people made him blink hard, but then, that wasn’t really giving him a fair shake, was it, not when he’d given Stretch a job to begin with and kept him semi-fed. “thanks.”

“don’t mention it, to anyone.” Red said dryly. He sucked down the last of the noodles and pushed the bowl away with a sigh. “gonna ruin my rep. make you a deal, air conditioning’s better down here. if you wanna watch tv in my place, y’can go ahead, if,” he stressed, “if ya call your brother. bet he’s out of his mind worried by now.”

“how—” Stretch shut his mouth hard enough for his teeth to click together. Red only looked serenely back, the chair creaking as he leaned back and laced his hands together over his middle. He looked away, not wanting to see what else might shine knowingly in those crimson eye lights. “i’ll text him.”

“good enough,” Red said agreeably. He pulled a can of beer off the plastic ring and popped it open, gulping some down and belching with mellow contentment. “where the fuck did you go earlier, i been waiting on these beers.”

Stretch’s bowl was empty and he ran a finger along the inside of it, licking away the smear of leftover sauce. “to see a movie.”

Red’s mouth opened in a silent ‘ah’. “didja say hi to doris?”

That was not what Stretch expected. “i…yes. you’ve seen her?” Stupid to think Red hadn’t, he’d been here for a long time, hard to believe he’d never stepped into the theater and any Monster with half a gram of sense would’ve noticed her.

“sure, loads of times,” Red said, confirming it. “sweet gal. don’t be offended if she don’t remember you right away, she’s gotta little problem with short term memory.” He pointed a finger at his temple and let his thumb drop like the hammer on a gun. “keep stoppin’ in and eventually you’ll stick. takes her a mo’ when i stop by, but she gets there.”

“good to know.” And it was. Any faint, stupid hurt that he wasn’t the first Monster in Doris’s unlife was a little eased by that tidbit. He probably would’ve been more upset if he went to see her again tomorrow and had to go through the intros again without it.

“okay, g’wan, get outta here,” Red shoved a beer in Stretch’s direction and waved him off. “just remember, wheel of fortune is on at 7.”

Stretch took the dirty bowls with him along with the serving dish, giving them a quick wash and setting them into Red’s already overflowing dish drainer. He spent the rest of the afternoon on the saggy sofa in the living room, watching reruns of ‘MASH’ and ‘Little House On the Prairie’ until Red closed shop for the Wheel.

That night Stretch had a strange dream. Vast trees towering over him and unstable ground beneath his feet. He stood in a puddle of ragged moonlight and when red eyes loomed out of the darkness, he met their stare and didn’t run. Not even when he saw the huge, dark shape that contained them, jagged white teeth in a gaping maw that gnashed and slavered, ready to consume him. The shape leapt at him and he couldn’t move, trapped by that gaze. He woke with a gasp before it landed, waking with a scream tangled up on his throat, clammy sheets sticking to his sweaty bones.

He lay for a moment on the thin mattress, catching his breath. His window was covered, had been since his second night here and he’d found an old blanket in his closet, tacked it up to keep out the blistering heat of the noontime sun. Now it kept out the midnight darkness and he didn’t even glance at it as he rolled to his feet and headed into the bathroom to splash cold water on his sweaty face.

He set both damp hands on the sides of the sink and looked at his dripping reflection. The only shadows in this room were the ones beneath his sockets. His skull was pale, his eye lights pinpricks of diffused white.

“liar,” he whispered to his reflection and watched as it whispered it silently back.

But that was one shipment of guilt he could offload right now.

Stretch shuffled back out and scooped his phone off the nightstand. He ignored the messages, the voicemails, and only tapped out a message of his own, hitting send before he could think of an excuse not to.

i’m okay, little brother, i’m safe. i’ll call soon.

It wasn’t a lie. Soon was relative, just like brothers.

He sank back down on his damp sheets and didn’t bother to turn out the lights.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #underswap sans #welcome to backwater

41 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

The Electra Complex, 1 (Crygi, Jankie, JaidaxNicky) - Scarlet Bloo

A/N: This is my first multi-chapter fic! This first chapter is mostly Gigi-centric, however that will change in future chapters. Big thanks to Hy-Jinkx for beta reading this, it wouldn’t flow as well without you.

Trigger Warning: There are some mentions of underage drinking in this chapter, which I know isn’t always seen to be a big issue, but I just wanted to be on the safe side.

Summary: Gigi Goode has been shipped away to Missouri, where she meets at group full of big personalities and a lot of emotions. This follows 7 girls as they navigate new love, old feelings and past demons.

Wherever Gigi Goode went, a series of admirers would follow; at least, that’s how it always used to be back in LA. You could’ve taken one look at her and come to the conclusion that she was living the dream. She was the cheer captain, her grades were consistently higher than the average student and she had the perfect all-American boyfriend. She was on track to becoming valedictorian and prom queen, had she only stayed on at Arcasio High. Her shoulder length blonde locks were always carefully styled and sculpted, and she wouldn’t be seen without her long, pastel acrylics and coordinating outfits. If you weren’t in Gigi’s small circle of friends, then you idolised them. And if you were? Well, then you’d be vying for Gigi’s position as top dog. Los Angeles Gigi was a trope from a 2000s movie personified, and while she wasn’t particularly happy with her life, the validation from her peers satisfied her. She was worried she wouldn’t be able to say the same about this new Springfield Gigi. She hated change, it just didn’t sit right with her.

The last drastic change in her life occurred when her dad finally left the picture for good, around 8 months before she was shipped away to live with her cousin, Nicky. Gigi had a rocky relationship with her father from the moment she was old enough to recognise him, and to recognise patterns. He’d be in and out, showering Gigi and her mother with gifts on every return, but with each departure, he would rob Gigi of something possibly more important than Louboutins or countless bottles of Chanel No.5, the scent that had become her signature; he had robbed her of the ability to express her feelings.

He taught her to keep emotions bottled up and to repress natural feelings, instead nursing wounds with piles of money. Contrary to her relationship with her father, Gigi and her mother were always extremely close, but Gigi knew she’d ruined that. Why else would her mom decide she’d be better suited living with her Aunt and cousin in Springfield of all places?

“Gigi, mon amour!” Nicky exclaimed, running up to her with open arms. The cousins exchanged kisses on either cheek. Nicky pulling Gigi into an embrace. She knew things had been rough, and despite both girls’ tough exterior, they’d always had a special bond. Gigi could remember countless Christmases and Thanksgivings when they were small and spent curled up in a blanket fort watching Barbie movies - Nicky loved The Nutcracker while Gigi first discovered her fixation for tailored jackets while watching Barbie and the Three Musketeers. Nicky’s small house was very sophisticated, decorated and furnished almost entirely in black and white, with interesting marble sculptures bordering the hallway. The two girls walked upstairs to the bedroom they’d be sharing whilst Gigi was in Missouri.

“So, Gigi,” Nicky started with a sigh. Gigi looked down at her feet, cracking her knuckles to keep her focus off of Nicky and her next words.

“What did you actually… do?” Nicky paused, trying to correctly word what she would say next without sounding overly blunt. She was prone to being slightly too forward, partially due to a slight language barrier (French being her first language), but mostly because it was just the way her mind worked. A simple to-the-point question should logically provide her with a simple to-the-point answer - and Nicky liked it when things went like that.

“If it’s okay,” the L.A native began in a slightly sour tone, completely ignoring Nicky’s words, “I’d like to have a rest before dinner.”

Nicky was aware of the obvious avoidance, but she decided to let her cousin be for the meantime; her mother hadn’t told her what had happened with Gigi to make her move in with them, but she knew it must’ve been pretty serious. Gigi and her mom, Nicky’s aunt, had a bond she almost envied - she couldn’t think of any reason why she’d willingly send her away. The girl pouted slightly, pondering the severity of the situation for a few moments more, before leaving Gigi to rest and going downstairs to help her mom with food preparation.

Gigi walked into the bar, legs out, flaunting her doll-like figure. She was dressed in a tiny baby pink tennis skirt, and matching crop top. Her mom had shouted at her for “dressing like a pinup,” as she had called it, but Gigi just shrugged it off. She didn’t care what her mom had to say at that moment. She knew she was probably being unfair, that her mom cared about her and only wanted the best, but she needed to blame someone else for everything that went down so she could live with herself. Gigi cocked her head to the side, trying to snatch the attention of the first man to catch her eye. A gruff looking man, probably in his early 50s, his American tan glaringly obvious in the dim lighting, smiled at the 16 year old, biting his bottom lip ever so slightly. She gave him bambi eyes, giggling slightly as she walked towards him. She was nervous, of course she was, but the adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her system aided her greatly in feigning confidence.

“Hey, Candy bear.” he smirked at her, putting his hand on her cheek, “what can I do for you?”

Gigi wanted to shudder, but she managed to maintain her composure, and instead cooed, “I wanna be adored.”

The man slowly nodded, forcefully stealing a kiss from the girl, who submitted, kissing him back. As soon as he pulled away, she ran off, walking as confidently as she could out of the bar. She took a stick of bubblegum out of her bra, hoping it’s minty flavour would remove the lingering smell of liquor from her lips, as she rushed home before her mother awoke.

“Geege?” Nicky stood in front of her cousin, worry evident in her eyes. Gigi had zoned out. She snapped back into real life, “yeah Nics?” She looked towards the vanity where Nicky was seated, adjusting her hair in the large, illuminated mirror. Nicky’s room was barely big enough to fit both girls’ beds, so it was slightly cramped, but it was still very minimalist, very Nicky.

“I was just saying,” Nicky continued, “I should add you to the group chat of my friends and I - it’ll help you meet people before school starts.”

Gigi smiled, she was grateful that Nicky was being so welcoming, despite having to give up her room.

“Go on then, what harm could it do?”

TheNickyDoll added TheGigiGoode

JanJanJan: Ahhh hi !! I’m Jan, nice to meet you!!!!

JaidaEHall: Jan, chile, calm down you’re gonna scare her off

JackieCox: Hi, I’m Jackie.

And yeah, Janny, Jaida’s right, calm down baby.

TheGigiGoode: Hey, everyone <3

Thanks for letting me join, you guys are the first people I’ve spoken to here other than my family!

HeidiNCloset: Heyy

JanJanJan: I’m sorry y’all I’m just excited !!

Gigi was relieved to find that she hit it off quite well with Nicky’s friends, whose personalities seemed to be so big she could get a good sense of what they were each like through the screen. Jan was very enthusiastic, Gigi noted immediately. She and Heidi both seemed super sweet, but in different ways - Heidi definitely seemed to crack a lot more jokes. Jan bombarded Gigi with questions about L.A, before Jackie pretty much ordered her to get some sleep. Jackie and Jaida were definitely the two most level headed of the group, Jaida seeming to lead group discussions and Jackie undertaking a more protective role. However, when looking through the list of group members, she noticed one more account that hadn’t interacted in the group chat yet. She was about to ask Nicky who Crystal Methyd was, but when she turned to Nicky’s side of the bedroom she found her fast asleep, in a silk set of pyjamas with her hair in rollers. Gigi knew the only way to get answers now was to stalk her instagram. Luckily, she wasn’t private, so Gigi spent the next 30 minutes looking through her feed. Crystal had curly red hair, and dressed very…. eccentrically, Gigi thought. As if by magic, Gigi then got a notification that made her almost jump out of her skin.

CrystalMethyd: Hey everyone! What have I missed? You know how out of the loop I get when I’m painting.

Gigi waited for a couple of seconds before forming a reply, praying one of the other girls would initiate a conversation she could then jump in on. She wanted to talk to this girl, but she didn’t want to do it alone, not when she knew close to nothing about her. Gigi sighed, she’d have to just go for it and respond to the message. That’s how you get anywhere in life, she knew that.

TheGigiGoode: Hey, idk if Nicky told you, but I’m her cousin. She added me to the chat so I could meet you all before school starts up.

CrystalMethyd: She did!

I’m Crystal, but you know that from my account of course.

Gigi and Crystal spoke for a while longer, their conversations jumping from favourite food (Gigi liked pasta, Crystal liked pizza, and they were both still obsessed with fruit snacks), to movies Crystal cried over (Marlie and Me. Toy Story, The Notebook, and the list goes on) and ones they both hated. At around 3am, Crystal made the decision to move the conversation to private dms, to avoid spamming her friends as they slept. This new, more intimate setting, and the early hour, seemed to pull feelings on feelings out of the two girls as they began to open up more with each other. If an outsider was to read the messages, they’d never have guessed Gigi hadn’t been aware of Crystal’s existence until just hours earlier. Gigi felt a strange yearning to open up to this girl, who seemed to be so clear about how she felt, but a part of her mind wouldn’t let her even type the words out. Guilt passed through her gut as Crystal explained her worries about her future, how she wanted to be an artist, but her parents weren’t sure whether she’d be able to make a long lasting, stable career out of it. Gigi wished she had half the vulnerability the girl possessed. It sure would make this whole making friends thing a whole lot easier. The light peaking through Nicky’s pitch black blinds startled Gigi, so she said her goodnights to Crystal, who wished her “Sweet dreams, Miss Goode.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jan sport #jackie cox #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #heidi n closet #crygi #jankie #jaida x nicky #high school au #lesbian au #the electra complex #scarlet bloo #submission #s12

36 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 4 years

Text

The Prom Fic - Richie Tozier

word count: 6281 warnings: swearing, I think that’s it summary: Richie wants nothing more than to go to prom with the girl he likes, but (y/n) can’t stand school dances. The Losers get involved and make things more difficult. The answer is simple- Richie and (y/n) are just too stubborn to see it. ___

School dances, in (y/n’s) opinion, were lame. Very lame. With the shitty music from the teacher the school always hired to be a DJ, and the even shittier decorating done by the student council, and don’t even get her started on how everyone always acted while at a school dance.

The girls were at their judgiest. If you didn’t get dressed up, then you were a piece of trash that couldn’t afford it. But if you looked too good, then you were an attention whore.

And as for the guys, they were just as bad, if not worse. You were expected to go with someone. If you didn’t, you were laughed at, and undesirable. But if you did go with someone, then you were expected to… reward… them. This was high school. No way in hell was that acceptable.

“Anyways. I fucking hate dances, so no, I’m not planning on going to prom” (y/n) finished her rant.

Bill and Eddie, who’d casually asked her if she was planning on going, gave each other a concerned look, which didn’t go unnoticed by their female friend.

“Why?” She asked, setting down the orange she was peeling to give them her attention. “You weren’t going to ask me, were you?” She asked teasingly, giggling at the idea.

“First of all, ouch, you’d be lucky to go with me, I’m the third nicest guy in our grade,” Eddie joked back, only making her laugh. “Only behind Bill and Stan of course. And second of all, no, I was just being polite and asking”

“Y-you’re really n-not gonna g-go?” Bill asked.

“No,” (y/n) shrugged. “I’m just gonna hang out and enjoy a night off from the drama”

Bill frowned, but shrugged his shoulders.

“So you’re just gonna turn down everyone who asks you?” Eddie asks, and (y/n) narrowed her eyes at the boy.

“Yes?” She answers with a scoff. “What, do I owe it to a guy to go with them because what, they plucked up the courage to ask me?”

“No!” Eddie practically shrieked. “No, no of course not- no”

“What’s your guys’ big deal about it anyways? I’ve never gone to dances, it’s never bothered you before” She shrugs her shoulders, and picks apart her orange slices.

“It’s p-prom,” Bill says. “W-we just thought y-you’d w-want to g-go”

“Right. Because it’s so important” She spoke sarcastically.

Bill laughs nervously, and finally just let it go. ___

“So?” Richie asked Bill and Eddie when they came out of the cafeteria. “Did you talk to her?”

Bill sighed, and nodded. His silence was unsettling, and Richie just about shook his friend’s shoulders to beg for more information.

“Well? What’d she fuckin’ say? Does she want to go?”

“No she doesn’t wanna fucking go,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Richie, she hates school functions. I had to sit and listen to every little thing she hates about them the whole lunch period-”

“Did you ask about me?” Richie asked, not caring so much about Eddie’s waste of time. “Did you tell her that I want to-”

“N-no,” Bill was the one to cut him off this time. “Sh-she really doesn’t w-want to g-go, Richie,” He explained. “If w-we’d said that y-you were interested, sh-she would have j-just been off-offended”

Richie furrowed his brows, not understanding at all.

You see, he’d had this crush on (y/n) for quite some time now- as in, he’s liked her since they were children. She’s always been a special part of the Loser’s Club, and since the day Richie had met her he knew that she was special to him too. There was a spark to her that brought out the best in him, something that made him always want to make her smile and laugh, and bring out the best in her as well.

It had been nine years of knowing her, and he still wasn’t sure how she felt about him. She would blush and giggle when he’d flirt with her, and sometimes she’d flirt back, but even then he couldn’t tell if she was messing with him. There had been multiple occasions where she’d cuddled up to him as well- during scary movies, or at the quarry when she gets cold- and Richie had to try not to read into it, because those seemed like valid reasons for cuddling.

However, (y/n) had never really hinted at feeling anything more than friendship. And although her touches were like fire to his skin, he was pretty sure they were platonic.

And yet, this didn’t diminish his desire to take her to the prom.

He really, really wanted to ask her. He wanted to dance with her, and hold her hand, and buy her a corsage- he’d never wanted any of these things before. Before (y/n), he’d barely even paid attention to girls. And now, he wanted nothing more than to live out the fantasy of holding her on the dance floor.

“She hates it that much?” He asked, disheartened at the news.

He’d known she didn’t particularly like school dances… but he’d hoped that she’d feel at least a little desire to go to the prom. It was a high school tradition after all… and Richie had crossed his fingers that if she’d heard that he wanted to go with her, then she’d agree, but the look on Bill and Eddie’s faces told him there wasn’t a chance.

“Yeah…” Bill mumbled, trailing off awkwardly.

He felt bad, because he knew how badly Richie had wanted this. But (y/n) had made it painfully clear about her own feelings. He did wonder though, if she would have changed her mind had she known Richie wanted to ask her.

“M-maybe you should t-talk to her y-yourself,” Bill suggested. “M-maybe she w-would want to g-go if she knew it was y-you taking her”

“Really? Cause it sounds like she fucking hates all men-” Eddie started, but Bill shoved his elbow into the shorter boy’s ribs to get him to shut up.

Richie shook his head, not knowing what else to say.

“Thanks for trying” He mumbled, not meaning to sound insincere, because he really did appreciate his friends talking to her for him. He was just so disappointed by the news that (y/n) wanted nothing to do with the prom.

With that, he gave them a weak wave and said something about seeing them later in class, and then head off in the opposite direction.

He tried not to let it ruin his day, he tried to focus on anything, even his homework, to get (y/n) off his mind. But it was damn near impossible when she was the center of all of his thoughts. And barely a minute could pass before she crossed his mind. ___

On the other hand, (y/n) hadn’t thought too much about her lunch with Bill and Eddie. It was odd that they’d practically interrogated her about the prom, but they were weird boys, and she brushed it off as just another strange boy thing.

Sure, she knew all her friends would be going, but just because your friends jump off a bridge, doesn’t mean you should too… right?

Shaking her head of the thought, she went back to putting her books away for the day. There was no way she was going to have second thoughts about something as pointlessly mundane as prom.

She reminded herself of all the reasons she hated it.

Expensive dress you’ll only wear once.

The humiliating crowning of king and queen, reminding the entire senior class of their social status. More specifically, their low spot on the totem of popularity.

The shitty food. The shitty decorations. The shitty music.

This seemed to do the trick, as she felt more uplifted about the situation.

Just as she was about to shut her locker and leave for the day, her eyes landed on a familiar face, and she waved the boy down.

Richie, still feeling disappointed, wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen her. But her bright eyes met his and his feet were taking him to her before he could come up with an escape plan.

“Hey, trashmouth,” (y/n) grinned, shutting her locker and leaning against it. “Barely saw you today, I thought maybe you ditched,”

Richie didn’t say anything, just chuckled and shook his head.

(y/n’s) brow furrowed for a moment at his odd silence, but she just as quickly neutralized her expression and leaned her back against her locker.

“But I knew you wouldn’t ditch without me” She adds as an afterthought, a smile tugging on her lips.

“Course not,” Richie answered. “Wouldn’t be much fun”

Her smile seemed to widen, even though the kind words didn’t exactly come out as soft as they sounded. He seemed bored, like he was itching to walk away from her, and she could tell.

“You alright?” (y/n) asked, because she wasn’t exactly one to tiptoe around the obvious. “You seem off”

“It’s nothing,” Richie shook his head. “Look I gotta get going, I told Mike I’d head out to his place after school. I’ll catch up with you later”

And before (y/n) could call out for him to come back, or rush to catch up with him, Richie had practically darted away, taking long and fast strides towards the doors.

She couldn’t help but scoff for a moment, standing still at her locker while her mind whirled with thoughts of what the hell she could’ve done to make him ditch her like that.

Richie had never been upset with her before, and it knocked her off her feet to think he’d been pissed off by something she didn’t even know she’d done.

(Unfortunately it hadn’t even crossed her mind that his behavior was linked to the strange behavior of the other boys today.) ___

“And then he just- he just left me there,” (y/n) said with a frustrated groan.

Stan, who was equally frustrated, not for her sake, but because he was so very done with this conversation, rolled his eyes so far back into his head it actually kind of hurt.

“Can you believe that? He’s never been so pissed with me before, and I don’t even know what I did Stan”

The two always sat together in the library during their shared free period. Usually they just helped each other out with their homework, but today, (y/n) was too preoccupied with Richie’s bullshit to even open up her backpack. It dawned on Stan that if he didn’t get involved, then this ‘(y/n) and Richie’ drama would never be resolved.

“Probably wasn’t your fault,” Stan lied, knowing fully well why Richie was weird yesterday. “I heard he got rejected”

“Rejected?” (y/n) repeated, her voice faltering a bit on the word.

Richie had asked someone out? Back up even further, he’d liked someone?

Her change in demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Stan. The way she blinked slowly, and shrunk back in her seat. The way her voice quietened, and she’d barely even been able to say the word. He could almost see the gears in her head spinning, wondering why Richie hadn’t told her this himself.

“Yeah,” He shrugged. “I don’t know all the details. He didn’t say much about it. Just a girl he wanted to ask to the dance who said no”

Her eyes met his for a moment, and Stan hoped that she hadn’t put two and two together and realized he was bending the truth. (y/n) was smart, she was smart enough to figure out he was talking about her.

But her jealousy betrayed her, and clouded the big picture, as all she could focus on was that Richie had liked someone. Someone that wasn’t her, as she’d previously hoped thought.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” She asked wearily.

Stan wanted to smile, he felt so damn proud. (y/n) looked like she could just cry. He couldn’t wait to tell the others of this accomplishment.

Richie, when you two pluck up the courage and get together, don’t forget to thank me for single handedly doing it for you, he thinks.

“What, does he not trust me?” She asks. “Because clearly he told you guys. Probably all you boys. Probably Bev too!”

Oh fuck, Stan thinks.

He’d thought too soon.

“Whatever. Fuck him” (y/n) grumbled, and finally opened up her bag to retrieve her homework.

“Uh- maybe he just- didn’t get the chance, yet?” Stan desperately tries to fix his mistake.

“He had the chance yesterday. He didn’t even bother,” (y/n) shakes her head, and begins to work on her Calculus sheet. “Clearly we weren’t as fucking close as I thought” She adds, sounding less angry, and more sad.

She writes so hard on the paper that the tip of her pencil snaps, and rips through the sheet. Her loud groan earns a ‘hush!’ from the librarian.

Stan fucked up. He fucked up real bad.

His pride instantly melted into guilt, and he knew he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t tell (y/n) the truth at this point, and later, when he knew Richie, or one of the others asks what’s wrong with her, he’ll have to admit what he did.

And that was just gonna piss Richie off more.

This was bad. ___

Richie was still let down by the fact that he wouldn’t be going to the prom with (y/n), but after a night talking to Mike, he felt a fraction of a bit better.

Mike was his go-to for talking about (y/n). The others tended to just tease him, and while Ben was kinder, he always pushed Richie to make a move, which just wasn’t an option. Mike, however, listened. He listened to anything Richie had to share. Even if it was just that her hair looked pretty today, or that he was so in love with her it hurt, Mike was there.

On multiple occasions, Mike had told Richie to stop being a pussy and ask her out. He’d said it kindly, and he’d said it pleadingly, because some nights it was so obvious that Richie would just die if (y/n) were to fall for anyone else.

But after years of these talks, Mike knew Richie wouldn’t make a move. It was harsh, sure, but it had been so long, and the boy’s feelings only grew stronger, and still, he never did anything about it. He knew it must be painful, so he did what he could to help Richie vent about his hidden emotions, like the good friend he was.

So today, Richie felt like a part of the weight on his shoulders was lifted. And with that, came the plan to find (y/n) and apologize for how he’d acted yesterday. He knew he’d irked her, ditching her after school so abruptly, and he didn’t want any bad blood between them. Ever.

That afternoon, he was the one to approach her at her locker.

When he appeared, leaning against the wall of metal doors next to her, she cast him a glance, and then hastily turned away.

“What?” She asked, the single word a snap on her tongue.

It caught Richie off guard. He knew he hadn’t treated her fairly, but he didn’t think she’d be that pissed about it.

“I came to uh, apologize” He answered, sounding unsure, because the look on her face made him think that something else was wrong. She couldn’t be this visibly upset with him over one little weird patch, could she?

“For what?” She snapped out again.

She threw her backpack over her shoulders rather forcefully, and then slammed her locker.

Richie opened his mouth to speak, but she was faster.

“For leaving me out, or for leaving me out and ditching me yesterday, jackass?”

The boy’s brow furrowed, and his mouth still hung open.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

“Don’t bullshit me, I know you told everyone else about- well whoever the hell it was that you asked out,” Her voice lost it’s edge, as her disappointment sunk in instead. “You really weren’t going to tell me about it? At all? Over some- some girl?”

There was a frown on her lips, and a curve in her brow, and he could see how much it saddened her. Even though it was lost on him what had happened, and more importantly, who had told her this information.

“(y/n), I don’t know what you mean-”

“Fuck you,” The girl scoffed, shaking her head, and looking away so that he couldn’t see the way she’d started to tear up. “Really. Fuck you. I thought- I really thought-” She let out a humorless, watery laugh as she shook her head, meeting his confused gaze for a moment. “Just- just fuck you” She mumbled again.

When she walked away from him, her shoulder knocked into his arm, and she didn’t bother looking back at him as she stormed off.

As confused as Richie was about her outburst, all he could feel right now was anger, because someone gave her false information, and led her to believe that he’d not only kept secrets from her, but that he’d asked another girl out. ___

“What the fuck did you do!” Richie yelled as soon as he walked into the library.

Bill, Eddie, Stan, and Ben shared a free period and were always here at this time. Richie also had a free period, but preferred to either smoke outside, ditch school, or hide out under the bleachers with (y/n).

The librarian, along with most of his peers in the library, shushed him noisily. But he paid them no mind as he glared down at his friends.

“I know one of you fucking told (y/n) that I asked someone out, and now she thinks that I was avoiding her- and worse that I fucking like someone else- so fess the fuck up now beause I will find out either way and one of you has ruined my life!”

“Richard Tozier if you don’t lower your volume I will give you detention” The librarian warned.

Richie even glared at the older woman, but didn’t say anything as he looked back at the table of his friends.

“You asked someone out?” Ben, who was not caught up on the situation, asked.

“No I didn’t fucking-” Richie started to hiss, but Stan spoke up.

“I did,” He said right away. “I told (y/n) that you were upset yesterday because you were rejected, which was technically true-”

“Fuck you, man!”

“I won’t warn you again, Mr Tozier”

“Why would you-?”

“She was hurt, what was I supposed to say?” Stan whisper screamed back.

“Literally any- fucking-thing else!”

“Okay- okay jesus would you calm down before you get us all banned from the library?” Eddie asked. “Why don’t you just go explain it to her that you wanted to ask her-”

“That’s not exactly an option, Eds” Richie meant to snarl, but it came out more saddened than frustrated.

“Why not?” Ben asked. “Just tell her the truth and ask her out. She’ll understand”

“Maybe, but she’ll also hate me, and I don’t need to be rejected again,” Richie muttered. “She probably already doesn’t want to be my friend anymore. She thinks I.. I betrayed her”

“No she doesn’t,” Stan chirped in. “She just doesn’t want you to go out with someone else. She wants you to ask her”

He knew it was true, he’d seen the way she’d deflated when he insinuated Richie liked someone else. She was just too stubborn and scared to admit that she liked Richie that way.

“No she doesn’t, you guys heard her,” Richie said, looking at Bill and Eddie. “And now she wants even less to do with me. Thanks a lot, guys. Really”

This time, the way he said it was ingenuine, and on that note, he left the library. Not without flipping off the table though.

The librarian saw this, but didn’t care enough to scold him for a third time because at least he was finally leaving. ___

(y/n) sat next to Beverly on her bed. The two had been comfortable hanging out, mostly in silence, as Beverly read a book and (y/n) painted her toenails with a new red polish Bev had gotten.

It had been a few days since her blowout with Richie, and she hadn’t spoken to him since. She saw him everywhere, though. She swore she saw him around more now than she did before, and the thought bugged her.

There was no hiding the fact that she missed him. She used to spend time with him like this, doing random things and not really talking to one another, but just enjoying the other’s company. Not that she didn’t like hanging out with Beverly, she loved Bev.

But it was different.

“Alright,” Beverly spoke up, after (y/n) had sighed for the umpteenth time. “Time to spill. What are you thinking about?”

(y/n) frowned, and paused in her toe-painting process to look over at Bev.

“Come on girl. I know you’re thinking about Richie. What’s going on?”

“I just…” (y/n) sighed. “I’m mad, or- upset, not angry I just… I still miss him?” Beverly nodded, understanding the girl’s puzzlement. “I don’t know what to do”

“Maybe just tell him you like him,” Bev said boldly. “He’d like that”

(y/n) chuckled and shook her head, brushing off the comment as just a tease.

“Should I apologize?” She asked softly, going back to finishing her toes.

Beverly gave her a soft smile, and then laughed.

The sudden laughter caught (y/n) off guard, and she turned to her again.

“What?” She asked, while the other girl continued giggling. “What?” She repeated, letting out a laugh of her own, simply because Beverly’s giggles were contagious.

“Babe. Just go to the fucking Prom”

This caught her even more off guard- (y/n) swore she felt like Beverly was purposefully trying to confuse her.

“Wh- the prom?” (y/n) repeated. “What’s that got to do with it-”

“Come on, (y/n/n),” Beverly chuckled with a shake of her head. “Trust me. It would just fix everything”

“Beverly, I-”

“-you hate the prom, I know,” Bev monotoned, before (y/n) could go on her rant. “But as your friend, I feel like I should tell you that…”

She contemplated telling (y/n) the truth. Because while she was her best friend, it wasn’t her truth to tell. But she couldn’t watch (y/n) and Richie get torn apart over something so silly. Neither of them deserved that.

“What?” (y/n) hummed. It was troubling that she’d been quiet for so long.

Finally, the red head sighed, and continued.

“Richie wanted to take you,” She said, softly, unsurely. “He wanted to go with you. To prom”

(y/n’s) brow furrowed, and her jaw fell open slightly. Beverly watched her entire reaction, the way her confusion washed over her features like a slow waterfall.

“He… Richie…” She shook her head, trying to clear the mess of thoughts that were clouding her mind. “He did?”

Bev nodded, and (y/n) let out a small scoff. The sound throws her off, and for a moment, she thinks that (y/n) is upset, appalled by the idea.

“I can’t… I can’t believe it” (y/n) mumbled.

There were a million questions running through her head, but Beverly wouldn’t be much help to answer them.

“Yeah, well, he-”

“I have to go,” (y/n) stood suddenly, capping the polish and shoving it haphazardly into Bev’s hands. “I’ll call you later”

“W-what? Where are you going?” She asked, standing and following (y/n) while she was hastily going down the stairs, trying her best not to walk on her still wet-painted toes. “(y/n)?”

“I have to go buy a dress!”

With that, she was running out the door, shoes in hand.

Beverly just shook her head, but there was an excited smile on her lips, wondering what was going to happen next.

Prom just got a hundred times more interesting. ___

“This fucking blows”

Richie’s comment was an angry mutter, and one that made his friends feel a bit bad for him. He didn’t want to come, not after everything that’s happened. But his friends had begged him.

He’d already bought the ticket, and rented the tux. And it’s not like he had any other plans for the night. So he thought, why not?

This is why not, he thought glumly to himself now. Sitting alone at a table, only accompanied by his friend’s jackets, and Bev’s ridiculously tall heels. She’d kicked them off as soon as they’d arrived.

An upbeat song was playing, and Richie felt like he was the only person not dancing. Probably because he was.

As he looked out at his friends, and his peers, all he saw were smiling faces. Not one frown, not one bored look. Everyone was joyfully spinning and jumping to the music.

Richie decided to just stare down at his shoes. Less disappointment there.

Except that he paid a lot for the fine shiny black leather. And it was going to waste.

However, another pair of shoes joined his, standing directly in front of him. A pretty pair of strappy black ones, which exposed red painted toes.

“Hey, trashmouth” A quiet, sweet voice spoke, and even when he looked up to see (y/n), he couldn’t believe she was standing right there in front of him.

Especially not here. And especially not looking like that.

She was in a beautiful (y/f/c) gown, which hung just to her ankles. It was strapless, and considerably low cut- at least, more low cut than anything he’d seen her wear before. He’d never seen her look so… elegant.

Like a princess.

No, a queen.

“I thought you hated prom”

Admittedly, it’s not what he wanted to say, but it does the trick, because she lets out a humorless laugh, and glances around.

It was just what she expected. Cheap pink and white streamers thrown and taped everywhere, matching balloons taped around doorways, and littered throughout the floor. The song playing definitely wasn’t her style, and neither was most of the dancing she saw her peers doing out on the floor.

“I do,” She replies with a shrug of her shoulder, and looks back at him for a moment.

It surprises him when she takes a seat next to him.

“But I come with a peace offering,” She tells him with a small smile. “Me. I’m the peace offering. Being here”

Richie laughs at that, and runs a hand through his curls.

“Am I supposed to be blessed by your presence?” He asks her, and she quirks an eyebrow back at him.

“Damn right you are,” She replies coolly. “So are you gonna ask me to dance?”

Richie looked over at her, his brows raised, before glancing back out at the floor.

“You want to dance?” He asked, not an offer, but a comment of surprise.

“I thought you’d never ask,” She teased back, knowing full well that he hadn’t meant it that way. “Come on, trashmouth” She said, sticking her hand out for him.

He thought it over for a minute, but ultimately, this was everything he was hoping for, so he took her hand, and pulled her up from the seat.

She smiled as he pulled her with him towards the dance floor. Even in her heels, he still towered over her.

He let go of her hand when they found a decent open spot on the floor, and even though neither of them cared for the song playing they danced around as gleefully as though they had.

Richie looked really nice, in (y/n’s) opinion. He always had a general… attractiveness… to him. She could see it in his naturally perfect bone structure, and his dark eyes, the size of moons behind the dorky glasses. Sure, Richie was maybe-sorta-kinda-cute, but tonight?

His lanky body moved in all directions as he danced around. It was goofy, but it was adorable.

He looked beautiful.

She was smiling at him, although he couldn’t see, because he was too busy throwing himself around to notice her sudden stall in dancing.

Not until the song ended, did he realize she was just standing there.

“Well,” She sighed, smoothing her hands down the skirt of her dress. “I’m going to go get a drink-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Richie speaks up before she could step away, and his hand reaches out to clasp around her wrist. His hold his firm, but gentle.

She could pull away if she wanted to.

“One more,” He says, quietly, and his other hand curls around her waist, pulling her in closer.

Africa by Toto is playing, a classic, and he knew that she loved this song.

Finally, a song playing that she actually liked.

“Just one more” He repeats, and she can’t help but nod.

Her hands timidly laid against his the front of his shoulders. Despite her nerves, her eyes were locked on his, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away. She could feel the warmth of his palms through the silky material of her dress, and she steps a little closer, until her front is almost pressed against his.

Her hands slid upwards, until she’s wrapped her arms around his neck, and she leaned her cheek into his shoulder. She can’t help but shut her eyes, while they move slowly back and forth.

Everyone else on the dance floor was swinging and jumping, moving excitedly about the floor. While (y/n) and Richie just held each other, and moved at their slowest pace. There was nothing to be rushed, all they wanted was to enjoy holding onto each other for the next couple minutes.

“I’m sorry you got turned down,” (y/n) murmured. “You’re a good time, Rich, I don’t know why she’s so dumb to say no to you”

He was quiet for a minute, lifting his head to look at her. She was still leaning against his shoulder and her eyes were still closed. She looked so content, comfortable, and it made his heart do a backflip.

“Well- um-” He chokes on his words, and ducks his head back down next to hers.

(y/n) opens her eyes, and leans her head off of him just far enough that she can look at him. He’s having a hard time meeting her gaze. She waits for him to finish his thought, even though it takes a moment.

“You know. She hates prom, so, it was a long shot,”

Her heart starts to pound in her chest, and she wonders if Bev had been serious the other night, when she’d said that he wanted to ask her.

“But, you know” He shrugs, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Know what?” (y/n) asks softly.

It feels like the room is getting smaller, like no one else is dancing around them, and they’re just two people, standing in the school gym, holding tightly to one another.

“Richie?” She calls in a whisper, and he hums as he looks down at her.

Her arms wrap more securely behind his neck, fingers gently carding through the curls that hung there. She looks at him for a moment, biting down on her cheek, to keep from saying what she wants to say. She didn’t want to blurt it out, but fuck, she wanted to say it so bad.

His brows are furrowed, because she’s taken a solid fifteen seconds- not that he’s counting- and she’s just looking at him. Her eyes are rounded, and flickering over his features, but never leaving him. And he can tell she’s literally biting back words, but she’ll crack. She always does when she tries to keep something from him. It’s almost impossible for her.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

The question came out so soft, as if it scared her more than it really did.

Richie let out a short sign, a weak smile tugging on his lips.

“It was easier for you to tell Bill and Eds that you hated everything about this than to have you say it to my face”

(y/n) frowned, and her brows crinkled together out of confusion, and hurt.

Didn’t he know that she would’ve gladly agreed to go with him?

“Richie-”

“It’s alright, (y/n/n), don’t worry about it”

This only made her frown deepen.

“Richie…” She mumbles, before chuckling. “I would’ve said yes”

“Right” He replies sarcastically.

“No,” She’s still mumbling, but he understands her. “Really, I would have. Had you asked me,”

She leans up a little closer to him, and if she’d moved any closer, her nose would have bumped into his. Richie’s tempted to close the distance between them right then and there, and for a second his eyes wander to her lips, thinking about how close they are, and it wouldn’t take much to kiss them-

“You should’ve just asked” She whispers, and shrugs her shoulder nonchalantly.

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” He asks smugly, and when his lips pull into a smirk, she giggles a bit.

“Yeah,” She sighs, and her fingers curl up further into his hair. “So, now that you’ve got me here… what’re you gonna do?”

He chuckles down at her, because she was so cute when she tried to be smooth.

“I just want to dance with you” He said, wrapping his arms completely around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest.

She sighed, content, as she leaned against his shoulder again. They somehow were able to move slower than before, just swaying gently back and forth, but neither of them had ever felt so comfortable.

He was singing, incredibly softly, into her ear. Just a few lyrics to the song here and there. But it was sweet, and it felt perfect.

Even when their song had ended, and another cheesy one started to play, they continued to sway.

“Here” Richie spoke up, loosening up his hold on her, and then taking her hand.

He spun her outwards, under his arm, and she let out a laugh that could only be described to sound like absolute glee, before he tugged her back towards him.

She grinned up at him, and then carded her hands back into his curls so that she could lean upwards and press her lips against his.

It took him by surprise, but he didn’t hesitate for a second before cupping his hands around her cheeks and kissing her back passionately. Their dancing had stopped, and again, the rest of the room shrunk and disappeared.

When they parted, her eyes were shut for a solid minute, but she was smiling, and it made Richie grin.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

She opened her eyes, and hummed back in question.

“Will you go to prom with me?”

She burst out laughing, nodding her head in agreement.

“Of course,” She said sweetly. “But I won’t buy a dress, I’ll wear something old”

“Fine” Richie chuckles with a shake of his head. He drops his hands from her face to place them on her waist again.

“And you can forget about dancing, it’s stupid” She adds, grinning wide at him while he nods.

“Not even one dance?”

“No way. You have two left feet,” She says, in that same sweet tone. “Who wants to dance with a guy who’s gonna step on your toes?”

Richie was still laughing, and he shook his head again.

“You still agreed to go, so…” He cocks his head to the side, giving her a grin that made her stomach do a flip.

“Well then there must be some kind of redeeming quality about you” She hummed, a timid smile on her lips.

She’s blushing, and it’s his favorite sight in the whole world.

“One more dance, though?” He asked, and (y/n) nodded, her arms wrapping around his neck again while he spun them both around a bit more enthusiastically than before.

“You can kinda dance for having two left feet-”

“Beep beep”

(y/n) laughs, and tries her best to feign offense but she’s giggling so much that it’s kinda hard to be convincing.

“You don’t get to beep beep me, that’s not how it works!”

“I think it works however I want it to work,” He teases. “If you’re not still mad, want to get ice cream later?”

“Sounds good” (y/n) agreed, and swiftly leaned up to kiss his cheek. ___

They danced until eventually they got kicked out, because everyone left, everything was being cleaned up, and the music Richie was playing off his phone, and that was the breaking point for the chaperones.

They later got kicked out of the ice cream parlor too, for starting a mini food fight, and were stuck walking around town. Everywhere had closed, it was the middle of the night, and they were both still in their prom attire.

Except now there were a few ice cream stains splattered on them.

“Where to now?” (y/n) asked, while Richie dramatically swung their hands between them.

“I don’t know, where do you want to go?” He asked, and she shrugged.

“Anywhere” She answered, softly, as she looked up at him.

“Anywhere?” He repeats. “Because I know a great strip club-”

“Beep beep, Richie,” She says through a chuckle, and squeezes his hand as she walks closer to him. “And yeah. Anywhere”

(They end up throwing rocks into the quarry, but moral of the story is they stick together and live happily ever after)

___

raise your hand if you wish you’d gone to prom with richie tozier 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♂️ xoxo ~ jordie

#it 2017 #it 2019 #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier scenario #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader

122 notes · View notes

raeynbowboi · 5 years

Text

Dating Disney: The Little Mermaid

So when I started, Dating Disney, it was with the intention to pin down the fashion validity of Disney’s leading men, but when I started looking at Eric, I found that he’s wearing very hard to pin down clothes. A simple shirt, some pants, boots, and possibly a cummerbund? Or a sash? It’s really unclear. So rather than that, I decided to use clues in the movie to pin down a general historical time frame and location for Disney Movies, and I’m not really going in any order. I stand by Sleeping Beauty being set in mid to late 14th century Italy, but from here on out, I’ll be focused more on history and the movie, using context clues to set a time frame.

Story Origins

Den Lille Havfrue or The Little Mermaid, was written in 1836 and published in 1837 by Hans Christian Andersen, a Danish writer. It was written initially as a discreet love letter to Edvard Collin who had won his fancy. Edvard had gotten himself engaged to then 13-year-old Henriette Tybjerg 3 years earlier in 1833. The story is a highly symbolic depiction of Andersen’s feelings, as Edvard represents the handsome prince, Henriette is the kind foreign princess taking the love of his life, and Andersen is the suffering hero who endures great heartache to be near the one he loves, and is effectively voiceless, unable to speak his true feelings due to the time when he was living in. Henriette was actually so worried that he’d make a scene and declare his love for Edvard at their wedding that they “accidentally” gave him the wrong day, and he missed the ceremony. Thus, Andersen wrote the little mermaid disguised as a wedding gift, which Edvard had little interest in and which Andersen later decided to publish. I won’t do this for all of the stories, mind you, but this one had a very interesting history behind it.

Clothing

The first costume doesn’t appear in the actual movie, but is used occasionally as part of the Disney Prince line-up attire that Eric sports. In this image, he’s sporting a waistcoat, cravat, and tailcoats, all indicative of 19th century men’s fashion. In particular, this look rose to popularity in the 1840s and stayed popular through to the 1850s. Eric’s wedding suit and the engagement suit are both military jackets that include epaulets on the wedding suit. These are in fact naval admiral jackets, as seen in the below picture.

All of these fashion elements emerged during and following the Napoleonic Wars (1803-1815). Most of the men except Eric have buckles on their shoes. Although we might associate the image more with the 18th century and the American revolution or pilgrims, buckled shoes were still a common sight in the 19th century that it’s not out of place or unreasonable for them to worn in this film.

The widely hated pink dress (and quite unfairly I think) that Ariel wears to dinner seems to fit with 1850s fashion although the large sleeves were apparently designed to resemble 1980′s prom dresses. The blue dress Ariel wears for the date is entirely era inappropriate (especially since her ankles are visible during the Victorian Era), and neither hers nor Vanessa’s corset dresses are fitting for their time period. It should be noted that the visible different skirts was not a trend of the 1800s, and this was the closest example I could find, and even then appears to be an outlier in what’s been recorded of 1850′s fashions. Now, it’s possible that this dress could be old and was just lying around, so even Ariel’s dress is not necessarily proof of a finalized decade, since she could simply be wearing an out of fashion gown.

Technology

The Tobacco pipe that Scuttle calls a Snarfblat, seems to resemble a Calabash type tobacco pipe, first invented in 1898, at least according to one source I found. The Calabash is widely recognized for its saxophone shape, and is closely associated with Sherlock Holmes imagery. There are other types called Bent or Billiard pipes that may have existed earlier, but I couldn’t find when those kinds of tobacco pipes would have been invented.

Eric’s Ship seems to resemble a Galleon, mostly in the bent U shape of the ship and the bulky stern. An evolution of the Portuguese Carrack ships of the 15th century, these Spanish ships were invented initially as armed cargo ships, but were also used as warships. In the early 19th century, they were drafted as auxiliary war vessels, dominating naval warfare for most of the Age of Sailing. Although Eric’s ship is not quite a Galleon, given that his ship as a more noticeably protruding cabin on the ship’s stern, it still maintains the unique U-shape of the vessel.

The type of carriage we see when Eric gives Ariel a tour of his kingdom seems to resemble the Phaeton carriage. Both are four-wheeled carriages with a fold-up back and a swooping decal on the front of the vehicle. Shown to the right is an image of Queen Victoria as a child with her mother in a Phaeton. I don’t have an exact year as the link no longer works with the British Museum of History, but Queen Victoria was born in 1819, and she looks fairly young, so I might posit that this might date anywhere from 1822-1834? But I’m legitimately guessing. The point is, this type of carriage would have existed at this time and later.

When we see the town square of Eric’s kingdom, we see a clocktower and gas lamps. While I couldn’t find an exact year of when clock towers became a common thing, the clock that houses Big Ben in Elizabeth Tower was built in 1844, so that’s a least a clue as to when a much smaller clock might have been commonplace. Gas lamps as a public source of illumination began in 1809, as commemorated by a political cartoon of onlookers marveling at the new wonder.

Geography & Climate

Hurricanes - when the sea storm hits, the sailors declare that the storm is a hurricane. Initially, I assumed the movie was still set in Europe, and I looked up and found that there have in fact been instances of hurricanes hitting the western countries of Europe. However, the palm trees kind of debunked that theory.

Yes, you are in fact seeing palm trees. Growing naturally. In the place Eric calls his kingdom. So we are definitely not in Europe. This is further backed by the fact that a hurricane hit only two or so days ago, and hurricane season tends to be in autumn, while the foliage in Eric’s kingdom is a vibrant summer green. This has lead me to the assumption that Eric’s “kingdom” is a colony in either Florida or more likely, one of the Caribbean islands. Which would most likely mean that Eric is a Spanish prince. This is backed up by the simple fact that the general aesthetic of not only the castle, but the kingdom has a very Spanish look to it. But I’m not really at all well-versed enough in architecture to elaborate other than “it looks kinda Spanish to me”. He could be the son of the Spanish king and ruling this local area due to its economic importance and could possibly have a warship to fight off pirates. Eric might also not be the first in line for the throne, thus this is why he’s so far from home and without any parents around. He came to the new world to rule a smaller slice of his kingdom since he’d probably never be king of Spain. And yes, I did find that there are marshlands in the Caribbean, so Eric and Ariel can still go for their boat ride through the bayou.

There’s also a portrait of Phillip and Aurora in Eric’s dining hall, which means he’s probably related to them. Considering they’re Italian and he’s Spanish, it’s extremely likely. It’s not super relevant, but it’s a neat easter egg. Or if it’s not Phillip and Aurora, it could be Eric’s parents, and it just looks a lot like Phillip and Aurora, which could still be a clue that they’re related. Although the painting is rather recent, not like a 14th century tapestry, so it’s probably either a painting of his parents, or Aurora and Phillip are a big deal in Eric’s family, resulting in them getting a more modern portrait made of them.

Verdict

All around, I would have to say that the movie is set on one of the Caribbean islands under Spanish colonialism in around the mid 19th century. Although the pipe might be from a later decade, it’s such a minor detail, and so late in the century that if anything it’s an outlier in the data. Most of the facts tend to point more toward the early and middle of the 19th century, which is why I lean more toward the early-to-mid 1850s as the era of choice for this film. What this means for the world at large is that both America and France have denounced their monarchs. Victoria took the English throne in 1837 and has been ruling for about 20 years. Charles Darwin’s Origin of the Species sparks outrage among the public at the notion of being a monkey’s nephew. Furthermore, it pretty much dissolves the Little Mermaid from being connected to the Frozen/Tangled conspiracy at all, as Ariel is all the way over in the New World, while Arendale is half-way across the world. It’s possible that the ship could have been commandeered by pirates who sailed the ship to the Caribbean where it was sank, but that’s adding extra steps and filling in blanks to try and force the theory to work. So there you have it, Ariel married a Spanish prince who was a full on navy admiral living in colonial Caribbean islands in the 1850s. Honestly, I’m just as surprised as you are. I would not have logically pegged the Caribbean for the setting of the film. But, that’s where the evidence points.

SETTING: A Spanish Colony in the Caribbean

KINGDOM: The Spanish Empire (1492 -1975)

PERIOD: 1850s (Victorian Era)

LANGUAGE: Spanish

3K notes · View notes

ivystjamess · 3 years

Audio

IF IT WEREN'T FOR IVY'S CONSTANT NEED to both prove herself and receive praise from her parents, she likely wouldn't have auditioned for into the woods. it wasn't grease or mamma mia with the prize of sandy dumbrowski or sophie sheridan waiting for her to grab. it was just...into the woods. and sure, while she wasn't passionate about the show itself, she was passionate about the validation and attention scoring a good role might bring. ivy st.james had her eye set on the role she wanted and as always she was fully prepared to use every tool in her arsenal to snatch it up. ivy wanted to be cinderella just for the sake of being cinderella. she liked her songs and the pretty costume and for once, didn't really mind setting her sights on a role other than the primary female lead. while she could easily blow any role in the show out of the water, ivy had carefully crafted her audition materials for the directing panel to see her as cinderella. ivy st.james and cinderella would soon be synonymous in their eyes if she could help it.

despite having just finalized her song on monday after receiving davis' input, ivy felt more than prepared come wednesday. auditioning was routine to her at this point, pull her hair out of her face, put on a nice outfit, prepare, prepare, prepare, and she'd be set. oftentimes it felt like ivy first learned to walk, then speak, then shortly after she learned how to audition. it was years upon years of lessons for this specific thing that left her knowing that if she were to engage in conversation, keep it short and sweet, to drink plenty of water, and not let a single thing get into her head.

those were the basics. but ivy was both blessed and cursed with berry-st.james genes that always left her going a little bit overboard. at school wednesday, ivy refused to speak and claimed she was on vocal rest through a text to speech app she'd downloaded on her phone. she had told julien he could hitch a ride with her, but they had to keep their conversation minimum to none. even when ivy only kinda wanted something, she would do everything within her power to make sure she got it. playing danny had been alright, but at the end of the day, she wanted sandy. as long as she could help it, she wouldn't miss the mark on getting what she wanted again.

while in the reception area of the lima players building, ivy sat patiently, sipped on her water bottle, and reviewed her materials in her head. she tried not to acknowledge those around her too heavily. this was community theatre. the pool was wider. while it brought fun talent like davis or some of the boys from dalton to the table, it also brought the clarington-smythe sisters. while her and emory were mostly friendly, they were still competitors. and when it came to darcy? ivy knew she couldn't take one look at the girl without getting completely thrown off. rarely did she have to face these pre-audition obstacles at mckinley, but even in a more expanded setting, ivy had to remain in her own little, focused world or suffer the consequences of a botched audition.

eventually, her name had been called and she was relieved to stand and enter the audition room. in her typical fashion, she handed a resume to each of the directors before surrendering her book to the accompanist and talking through her music. once all the formalities were out of the way, it was down to business. from the moment ivy entered the room, she was polite and smiled like her life depended on it, but the real magic would happen in a moment once she got her slate out of the way, "good afternoon, I'm ivy st.jarnes. today i will be performing journey to the past from anastasia composed by stephen flaherty and lynn ahrens." she let that information sit with the directors before announcing, "in addition to my song, i will be performing rather be a man by joseph arnone, then as a dance sample, i will be performing one step closer from the little mermaid with the help of davis goolsby" with her audition materials out in the open, only one thing left to communicate. with a smile, ivy sweetly stated, "i would love to be considered for the role of cinderella, but i will gladly accept any role. thank you." then cast a glance towards the accompanist. moments later, her music began, and showtime.

`heart don't fail me now, courage don't desert me, don't turn back now that we're here.'

ivy vocalized effortlessly, sure to keep an unwavering optimism in both her tone and her expression. in ivy's eyes, journey to the past was the perfect song to audition with for cinderella. the song held a sense of adventure that was ideal for a show like into the woods which was all about a journey. she kept her blocking to a minimal and let her voice do the talking. sure, there was an occasional pace to the left or the right, a clasped hand over her chest here or there, and near constant longing, furrowed brows. she could act and dance her heart away in later portions of her audition.

'home, love, family, there was once a time when i must have had them too.'

while she continued to hit each note with ease, ivy tried to step into cinderella's slippers. it certainly wasn't a character she could relate very deeply too. her home life was close to ideal and rarely did she turn down male attention, but just imagining herself in a beautiful gown and golden slippers was enough for the trained performer to put a believable desire in her tone. cinderella might have longed for her mother or to go to the festival or to run away with the baker, but what did ivy st.james long for? her mind wandered to the depths of her heart and her wants. she wanted julien to stand up for her more, she wanted to be taken seriously as a performer outside of her parents, she wanted the other members of new directions to appreciate her efforts, she wanted to be liked, and she wanted to maybe even be prom queen one day. sure, those wishes looked nothing like cinderella's but as she belted the emotional peak, her hearts desires might as well have looked the same as anastasia's or cinderella's.

'yes this is a sign, let this road be mine, let it lead me to my past, and bring me home at last!'

ivy concluded the song with a smile and tried not to look too breathless as she seamlessly transitioned into her monologue. sure, it was a little more aggressive, bitter even, and while that was the opposite of cinderella, ivy wanted to show off that she did have a range. and beside, there was some obvious reluctance from cinderella to her prince, she wanted to show her capability in that regard. her recitation of the monologue elicited a few laughs which was always a good sign and had ivy's heart singing as if she were sally field at the 1985 oscars.

now that her monologue had successfully wrapped, it was time for davis to enter the room. ivy worried that maybe it was poor etiquette for the end of her audition to overlap with the beginning of his, but the directors seemed to be eating up their collaboration as the instrumental portion of one step closer from the little mermaid began.

it had been davis' idea to do this waltz-y number and ivy didn't mind. she'd do pretty much anything to put herself over the top of the rest of the competition. after conversing for a little, most of their private rehearsal in her basement consisted of choreographing the number and perfecting all of the little tricks so the pair looked elegant together rather than foolish. throughout the dance, ivy kept her eyes locked with davis' as she concentrated on hitting each precise and quick motion. into the woods definitely wasn't a dance heavy show, but as far as ivy (and davis) was concerned, it was better to cover all bases than leave a director wondering.

come the end of the dance, she was a little winded, but flashed a winning smile at the judges all the same. she thanked them again as she went to grab her book from the accompanist. each director gave a standard thank you back and reminded her she'd hear from them sunday. while sunday couldn't come soon enough, she held her chin high and binder close to her chest as she exited the room. and as a show of good sportsmanship, ivy even issued a "break a leg" to davis on her way out.

out of sight from the directing panel, ivy finally let out a breath. she'd done all she could. now it was just a waiting game.

END.

#crhq:woods #mentions: davis #mentions: julien #mentions: darcy #mentions: emory #//tldr: ivy sang journey to the past and did a joseph arnone monolouge. she also did this extra dance w davis. oh also she wants cinderella.

8 notes · View notes

l0chn3ss · 4 years

Text

do you remember that day, you were so beautiful

Written for @se-rarepair-day September 2020 Prompt: Roadtrip

Maka x Black Star; MaStar: Before coming to terms with their feelings, and before embarking on the road trip that took them all across Nevada, Maka and Black Star take their friendship to high school prom. AO3 | FFNET

Companion Fic to dust the cracks in my heart with stardust, make me anew; Reverb 2017

---------------

During their junior year of high school, Maka and Black Star were caught up in the hype surrounding prom, of course. There were rules to these sorts of things.

Choose your crush to be your partner, go outfit scouting three months ahead of time, plan your king and queen campaign, prepare matching corsages, group-rent a party bus, get the pre-prom party ready, and above all, make sure you ask them out in the most public and romantic way possible.

Maka and Black Star followed all of these rules, just not with each other. Instead, they convened to share ideas and made sure they were doing steps in order. Maka brainstormed obnoxious ideas on ‘how to ask a girl to prom’ on YouTube for him while Black Star fed hints and nudged her prospective partner to do exactly what she wanted in return. They went to Macy’s to get their outfits at the same time; Maka picked out her top five dresses to show her friends while Star had everything except for his vest and tie. Finally, they carpooled to the pre-prom party in Sid’s mini van with flowers in their lap and nerves scattered throughout. Not once did it occur to them that they should’ve just gone with each other until they were both abandoned on the dance floor, finding that the people they’d gone with were boring beyond boring.

Senior year was different. About seven weeks before the night in question, Maka was at Black Star’s desk while he was lounging on his bed. It was a school night, but Maka didn’t want to be home. Instead, she went to her second home and kicked Black Star off his chair and onto his sheets. He went without much protest, already used to the routine. The only thing was that his seat was warm— his bed was not.

She snorted at him, saying that it was more comfortable on his bed anyways. Star, in turn, grumbled about how his bed made him tired and how the living room sofa was occupied. They settled into their new places for the rest of the evening, each with their own tasks in mind.

It was only forty minutes later that Maka checked her Google Calendar and saw the marked event approaching. She turned to Black Star suddenly, who was distracted on his phone reading fanfiction, and said easily, “Wanna go to prom together?”

“When’sza again?”

“The Saturday after we have dinner with your dad’s cousin.”

“Oh, yeah.” He finished his paragraph before finally giving Maka his attention. “Sure. What color do you want?”

Maka balanced herself on just two legs of Star’s chair. She leaned back and looked to his ceiling, thinking. “Purple looks terrible on you. And I really don’t want to repeat colors from last year.”

He nodded. “No yellow or… whatever color you chose again.”

“It was feldgrau.”

“Yeah, that… Gods, just call it green like normal people.”

Maka planted the chair back on all fours again. “It wasn’t green, and it wasn’t gray. It was feldgrau.”

“Whatever, Maks.”

“Good point, though. Green is still on the board.”

“Nope! That’s been your color since kid-you rolled in that freshly cut grass. You got it all in your hair and clothes.” Black Star wasn’t budging. “I’d be at a disadvantage.”

Maka shot him a look, but chose to not pursue his anecdote. “Well, you just dyed your hair. So we definitely can’t do red. Orange would be worse. That pretty much leaves blue, which matches you more than me, too.”

“Come on, blue is best!”

“Absolutely not. I’d rather have green.”

“Blue.”

“Green!”

They stared down at each other until a giggle escaped one of them, then the other in quick succession. They solved their color issue the same way as they did as kids— with a sigh and a laugh.

“Teal it is then.”

“The one that’s more blue right?”

“Absolutely not, Star.”

---------------

The day came quickly, especially since they weren’t at all focused on preparing for it. After getting past the hurdle of settling on the right shade of teal, the rest of their tasks came easily. Maka still had her contacts from arranging flowers for her community service events, and Star had recently gotten a new Jeep from a second-hand seller about two cities over. Pictures would be taken in Aunt Mira’s backyard, and it would’ve been overkill if they won homecoming and prom king and queen in the same school year. There was no need to run again.

As for the tie, vest, and dress set, the color that they chose was perfectly equal. It was neither too green or too blue; the both of them made sure of that. They met exactly in the middle after a couple of hours in a Joann’s Fabrics, and they took a cut of the shade to go buy their outfits separately.

Black Star’s extended aunt adjusted his tie for him on prom night. She had her camera wrapped around her cousin Sid’s neck to hold for safekeeping since it would’ve gotten lost on a table or some random counter otherwise.

Aunt Mira wasted no opportunities to scold her nephew. “You’re late, boy.”

Star had to counter, “Maka is, too.”

“Aye, but she’s also been here for two hours to get ready upstairs,” Aunt Mira said, pulling down Star’s vest and straightening out the front. “You, on the other hand, had instructions to arrive at eighteen hundred hours.”

That was 6 o’clock for military talk.

“Yes, ma’am,” Black Star said, still pouting slightly.

After giving him a final pat, Aunt Mira had Star pose in various areas around the house, snapping a photo or nine at each place. She claimed that she didn’t want to take too many without Maka there, especially since Maka was still learning about the exposure and shutter speed settings on a manual camera. It was just easier to show rather than tell.

Sid helped enough by clearing parts of the room where Aunt Mira’s crafting projects were dispersed in strange places. He also went into the backyard for a moment to check for the lighting and weather for their couples shots. He took the chance to call Spirit and assured him at length since Maka hadn’t allowed him to stay past her initial drop-off. All was prepared.

Just five minutes later, Maka finally emerged, stepping onto the landing and then following the railing down the stairs. Catching on Aunt Mira’s chandelier lights, her gold-teal eyeshadow shone and her cheeks glowed a pretty pink. She wore a sleeveless sweetheart bodice that hugged her torso closely, cutting off at her midriff. It was then that he understood what she meant by a two-piece dress. Her skirt started not far from where the top was; it went from high to low— thigh short in the front and floor length long in the back— and framed her legs beautifully. Golden embellishments swirled throughout, matching her make up choice well, mesmerizing.

He was caught in between moments where nothing made sense, and yet everything felt right. The room fell away with her every step, shattering the background behind her as she got closer to him. It was like seeing her for the first time— a new girl with a familiar name. Maka became the only one left in his eyes.

Still at the top of the stairs, Maka went slowly, adjusting her left earring while making sure her feet went one after the other. She wasn’t poised or ready— fuck, she wasn’t trying to be beautiful or heartstopping. She just was.

However, Maka made a small grunt while she held onto the railings. Black Star remembered how heavily she complained about going down the stairs in heels last year, so he went up to meet her half way and extended a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Black Star teased once she reached him.

“Stop it,” she said, lightly smacking his arm before taking his offering to brace herself.

As they walked down together, Star couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was only when they reached the bottom that Maka let go and broke the spell. He felt a part of him leaving as she did, even though she wasn’t going anywhere far. She was only going to the refrigerator to get their corsage and boutonnière.

Left alone with his dad and aunt, he finally realized that they were being watched with knowing looks. “What?” He glared at them heavily, hoping to hide whatever they saw on his face.

Sid seemed to cover a laugh with a cough while Aunt Mira fiddled with her camera. She muttered, “Got some good shots from that,” which caused her nephew to ‘tch’ loudly. He turned away from them, faced towards the wall to hide how pink his face had turned from her comment.

When Maka returned, she set the flowers down on the coffee table and looked to Sid first. “What do you think?” She twirled on her heel and the train of her skirt spread far.

Sid nodded. “Your papa would be pleased.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Maka snickered.

“He wouldn’t at all,” Sid agreed.

“You look lovely, Maka.” Aunt Mira made sure to give the validation that any girl would’ve wanted. “I’m surprised you got into it on your own.”

“Well, I had trouble with getting the back zipper, which is why I’m so late.”

Aunt Mira hummed. “Boy, go check to make sure it’s on properly.”

Before Black Star could begin to protest, Maka had already turned around and brushed her curled hair to the front. She said, “I think I got it up all the way, but it’s hard to reach.”

He approached her carefully, swallowing a lump in his throat and blinking away his disbelief. He looked just for a moment to see that the zipper was about an inch and a half from closing, and he finished it for her quickly, blushing the entire way there.

“There,” Star said, coughing into his hand like Sid would. “You almost got it.”

Maka looked over her shoulder, surprising him once again. Her disarming smile and appreciation only made her look more foreign— but not in a bad way. He may have followed her anywhere then.

“Thanks.”

“‘Is whatever.”

She laughed openly at his awkwardness while he got the corsage. It was made of three white roses and baby’s breath, all tied together with a teal ribbon in the center. He heard Maka reminding him of something familiar.

“Corsage on the pulse; boutonnière over the heart.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I know, I know.”

Maka was embarrassed that he heard her at all. “I’m just saying!”

He pulled the elastic over her left wrist and gave it a snap. “Yeah, sure.”

“Careful, Star. I’ll prick you with the pin.”

“This jacket is hell— I mean, hecka thick.” Star briefly glanced over to his aunt to check if she caught him cursing. If she did, she didn’t show it. “You can’t pass the pin through.”

Maka grumbled, grabbing him by his lapel roughly and tugging him to her, making him yelp. “Hold still.”

With her so close to his chest, he caught her scent mixed in with a new Bath and Body Works spray. It was subtle, but starkly different than her usual smell. The vanilla tickled at his nose, and somehow, it made him more embarrassed to be by her than ever. He was acting ridiculous— they were just going as friends.

As much as Maka was a perfectionist, she once again couldn’t get the boutonnière to sit on straight. Star had to roll his eyes and assist her, bumping hands every so often as they struggled to pin the stem correctly. They were distracted because of a couple of clicks from the camera, but eventually, they managed to get the flowers to sit securely with the help of an extra pin.

Sighing, Maka took him by the hand— as if she needed to convince him to come with her. “Let’s get pictures before the sun sets now. Then, it’s off to prom!”

“I’m still driving, right?” He asked stupidly, as if there were another answer. “I mean— never mind. We’re definitely getting Taco Bell after we leave.”

She squeezed him more tightly. “We will, I promise.”

The rest of their night went without a hitch. They took their miniature road trip down to the venue and took note of the late night diners on the way there. At the event, Star pulled out a can of Coca Cola to share while Maka complained about how warm it was from being in his pocket. Luckily, she realized how badly it must’ve been shaken and she went to exchange it at the free soda bar instead. It would be someone else’s problem. Later on, Maka slid their photo booth pictures into her clutch while Star went to request her favorite song to the DJ. Most importantly, there were no hidden agendas or boring partners to entertain, only each other.

Just thirty minutes before prom ended, Maka held onto Star’s jacket while he took a pee break down the hall. They planned to make their escape before the King and Queen were announced, but their sudden victory shocked no one except themselves. Her new tiara was balanced on her head while Star’s crown was looped around his bicep, especially since it kept falling off while they were dancing.

Once he got back, they snuck past the supervisors and successfully climbed into Star’s Jeep. There were burgers and milkshakes just ten minutes down the road and a lifetime of adventures still waiting for them.

---------------

There’s something different about tonight... He barely recognizes he’s been thinking about her and what he wants from their relationship for so long until Maka emerges from the shower in her random shorts and tee, toweling her hair. The thought strikes him harshly that she looks just as good to him at this moment as she did when he saw her dressed up for their high school prom.

That’s it. She’s it for him.

If this blows up in his face, he has no idea what he’ll do.

“Don’t— don’t make this weird.” He nearly falls off the edge of the bed at her voice, not expecting her to speak.

“Weird? What’s weird?”

“I don’t know, Star… Just stop looking at me like you’ve never seen me before,” she murmurs, glancing at him as she hangs the towel over the back of a chair. “You have that face on like when you run into someone from high school you don’t remember.”

— From Day 9: the interval between reach and grasp; dust the cracks in my heart with stardust, make me anew ; Reverb 2017 By @happyisahabit

#mastar #makaxblackstar #soul eater #serarepairdays #nessie spills #makaxstar #maka and blackstar #roadtrippin #roadtrippin au #liz u the illest

13 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Paul Dini’s Jingle Belle: “Sanity Clauses” review or Santa’s Court Ordered Family Therapy Holiday Special

Merry Christmas everyone! I”m finally back on the reviewing reindeer after a week out with a cold, aside from the usual ducktales review, and it’s once again a comission from friend of the blog and the only guy who pays me for reviews weirdkev27. If you have your own holliday hyjinks you’d like me to review I do reviews of television and comics for 5 dollars an episode/issue, wtih variable prices for trades in comics case depending on length. Hit me up via my dm’s here on tumblr or send me an ask for my discord if you want to know more. WIth that plug out of the way away we go. This one was a bit unusual... in that when Kev bought it up I assumed he was going to buy a few issues of Jingle Belle, Paul Dini’s creator owned character we’re talking about today, and just have me review those. What I didn’t realize is he was buying me the full package, a collection of pretty much every jingle belle tale, as well as the released after it “Handmade’s Tale”. one shot. So yeah, while I had’nt really thought of rules for this kind of thing before from now on your free to buy a work for me to review... just keep in mind i’ts both not required for me to review something, and will not wave the commission fee as I use those fees to pay bills, buy things I need like charger cables, and just generally keep my bank account afloat while I look for a day job.

But... since I hadn’t firmly established any of this yet, and since Kev’s gift means a bunch more commissions from a guy who not only made sure I could afford Christmas, but who has provided me steady work while i’m out of work... this one’s on the house. So with all the jargon settled, who is Jingle Belle? Jingle Belle is an indie comics character created and owned by Paul Dini in 1998. Paul Dini is an animation god, who thanks to this review I know more about his career than I did before and as much as I always should have. Dini got his start in the 80′s, writing for everything from He Man to Gary Coleman Adventures, before getting called up to the big leagues for Tiny Tune Adventures around the time of the animation renaissance. To my shock, as I wasn’t aware he wrote for that fine program, he wrote 35 episodes including my personal favorite Prom-ise her Anything. But while a talented comedy writer, his main talent would show when he moved on to Batman the Animated Series as a writer and story editor. He was one of the main creative forces along with Bruce Timm, with the two going on to make the DCAU, aka some of the best superhero shows ever made, after already making easily one of if not THE best with BTAS. And Timm’s influence showed, Co-Creating Harley Quinn with Timm, and writing the series best episode Heart of Ice, which reworked Mr Freeze from a hoaky silver age villian into the tragic and thoroughly sympathetic character he’s been since that episode. Seriously that’s another one to add to the review pile.. which is giant and sentient at this point. And seriously EVERY episode on his imdb page credits is an utter classic and one I remember fondly. The guy is one of the most talented and seemingly nicest guys in the business and both the world of batman and the world of animation owe him a LOT. So to my surprise, I found out in the 2000′s he had a comic, Jingle Belle.. then for whatever reason just never dug into it till now. But now post digging Jingle Belle is Paul Dini’s long running series of one shots and series at various companies following the adventures of Santa’s rebellious teenage-ish daughter.. techincally she’s in the 200′s but still looks and acts like a teenager. The idea came about when he got a christmas card from Stephen Speilberg, and wondered how the kids of famous folks dealt with that and if they resented their famous fathers. And whose more famous than santa?. The series spins both out of that brilliant idea and out of Dini’s love for sunday comic strips, back when the panels were larger and creators were given more freedom to go nuts, though even today i’ve seen plenty of great stuff so it’s not all lost pauly. So in that spirit rather than one long ongoing Jingle Belle is instead a series of one shots, stories in anthologies and what have you, one and done stories more focused on the comedy. The comic has bounced around from various publishers, starting as something pitched to Oni Press, home of Scott Pilgrim and not much else, and has bounced around various publishers since, most recently ending up at IDW, where the trade i’m reading from comes from. So how does a great concept from one of the world’s most creative minds shake out? Let’s unwrap this present and find out.

We open with an appropriately christmasy rhymey opening as we get the story of Jingle Belle: She’s the daughter of santa claus and mrs. claus, in this case the Queen of the Elves. Which isn’t established until the next story but whatever. And as you’d expect she grew up a cheery, rosey little girl who loved helpiing dad in the workshop.. then everything changed when puberty attacked.

As you can see Jingle is now your standard Bratty Teenage Daughter sterotype. At least in this story. See this initial story feels much like a pilot: It’s clear things aren’t ironed out 100% for the idea, and i’ts more a self contained way to get across the general idea, that being Santa has a rebellious teen daughter, via what comes off as an snl skit in comic book form. THat’s not an insult, it’s a GOOD snl skit, and I am genuinely surprised only one movie company’s attempted adapting this comic: the concept is great. I’m just letting you know what i’m working with is all.

So naturally as a high concept comedy skit, Jing soon, after sharing some cigarettes with the local eskmo boys and accidently lighting her Reindeer’s butt on fire and wrecking her sleigh and some surrounding property, Santa is at his witt’s end and we end up in family therapy. And honestly.. Santa in a family therapists office is a great concept. IT’s why I compare it to a sketch: It’s just a simple one line proposal that’s really damn funny and really damn eye catching. It’s often REALLY hard to get a good santa parody going, so I admire how well he pulled it off here. But what really centers it is Jing giving her side, making her a bit more than the mostly one dimensional bratty rebellious daughter she’s been pegged as. Oh sure tha’ts still mostly what she is here, I’ll leave it to later stories to flesh her out hopefully, but she gives vallid reasons WHY she acts out: She points out no one even knew Santa had a daughter, and she has no songs or specials or any of that about her. The most Santa can offer up is “Jingle Bells” because the boys say “jingle all the way”... which really, especially in 2020, just makes HIM come off worse for not only slut shaming his daughter, but that the best defense he can offer is “Well some local boys talk about how you boned them that counts right?”.

That.. poorly aged joke aside Jingle brings up another good point on how sh’es on his shit list.. errr.. naughty list. Still a good gag. And yeah the therapist is understandably surprised Santa dosen’t give his own daughter presents, though his wife does give a valid counter to that: He has to hold a higher standard than anybody.

And that’s why I’m really intrigued by this concept and want to read more: WE have plenty of stories about Santa’s kids, i’ll grant, from him adopting a kid like in elf, to him passing on the legacy with films like Arthur Christmas and Fred Claus, or even just films about his legacy, like the Santa Claus, aka that time Santa died and his clothes forced Tim Allen into a job he dosen’t want with weight and beard gain he didn’t ask for via yuletide mummy’s curse to become the new santa and nearly loose custody of his child. What i’m saying is the concept is inherently fascinating and The Santa Clause is deeply terrifying if you stop to think about it for two seconds.. as is the sequel what with it’s Nazi Robot Santa Claus Tim Allen. Yes really.

But this one’s unique in that it’s not about the legacy. Oh sure Santa tries to get Jing interested, and his last attempte wound up with them having to take the bus, another great gag and i’m glossing over most because this is a very funny little comic, but the main focus is more on what kind of pressure that puts on a kid: wouldn’t you rebel too if your parents wanted you to be perfect and to follow in the family business of being basically a perfect human being? Jing herself sums it up perfectly towards the end of the story.

Granted after a tearful hug, Jing internally says “that new snowboard is mine.. but i’ts hard not to feel that a godo chunk of this is genuine. Sure she’s playing her parents a bit but.. you’d crack too if your dad was freaking Santa. I’m really intrigued to see where this goes both comedically and character stuff wise.

So we end on another christmasy narration bit as Belle plays good for a while, snapping only when it docent seem like she gets her snowboard. A comedy ending and an eh one. Not the best honeslty, I feel the comci would’ve been better ended just at the snowboard is mine bit, but i’ve seen worse.

Final Thoughts: A really good story. WHile it’s rough around the edges, clearly Dini and others have buffed them out over two decades, and i’m really intrigued to see more of this this holiday season and others. Again some parts, mostly playing Jing being sexually liberated for “OH HAW HAW SHE’S A SLUT” laughs is cringe inducing, but most of the jokes have aged well and for a pilot it’s not bad. I really look forward to reading more of the character and diving into her this season and beyond.

Until then be good to one another, have a happy holidays and always remember: There's always another rainbow.

#christmas #jingle belle #santa claus #mrs claus #paul dini #oni press #comics #review #comics reviews

6 notes · View notes

citrusityy · 3 years

Text

Pride & Prejudice Chapter 5 : Are You Proud of Yourself?

Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb every week until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 5.

“...I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”

We start the chapter checking back in with the Lucases, where we learn that Sir William has a powerful desire to climb the social ladder : after he was knighted while mayor of Merryton, he fled his humble business and home in favour of Lucas Lodge, a short walk away from Bennet residence. Despite these grandiose aspirations, Austen is quick to assure us that he remains “inoffensive, friendly and obliging”. I feel it’s prudent here to point out that Lucas is the only man in this book so far to have a first name, and seems to be one of the nicest men in the book so far.

Next, we learn about the rest of the family. His wife, Lady Lucas is “very good” but not clever enough to be of any use to Mrs Bennet. Together, they have spawned many children, chief among them is an as-yet unnamed 27-year-old, who’s good friends with our 20-year-old protagonist, Lizzy. Naturally, these firm friends and their families meet up to talk about the ball. For another chapter.

There are 68 Chapters in this book. So far, it’s been 2 chapters building up to a party and then two chapters unpacking the party. At this rate, about 12 more chapters are going to have actual plot development and the rest will have people talking about it.

Anyway.

In Mrs Bennet’s opinion, Bingley gravitated towards Charlotte and one of the Ms Lucases (The 27 year old?), but seemed to like Jane the best, “because he danced with her twice”, and apparently told someone called Mr Robinson (A friend? The person who owned the venue?) that he found the oldest Bennet girl the prettiest. This is coming from her mother, so I’m choosing to take it with a dashing of sodium chloride, as I don’t believe I’ve come across Mr Robinson prior to this. (Feel free to chime in with any corrections if I’m mistaken).

She goes on to berate poor Mr Darcy behind his back. That poor (possibly) introverted gentleman! “He seemed very angry at being spoken to” and “he never speaks much unless amongst his intimate acquaintance” are said with such scathing disdain by the Bennet matriarch and her favourite (for now) child, but do nothing but fan the flames of my theory. Yet again, they accuse Darcy of being “ate up with Pride” to the point where they speculate if he heard a rumour that one of the guests dared to use an inferior, less decadent mode of transport to arrive. These people have excellent priorities and don’t come across like Prom Queens trapped in an endless cycle of parties and their aftermath. No, not at all.

Ms Lucas steps in to defend Mr Darcy. No, she doesn’t refute the accusations of him being proud, instead deciding that he has every right to be proud, being rich and all “with family fortune, every thing in his favour”. From here they all weigh in on their thoughts on pride, apparently oblivious to how proud they are themselves. Only bit of interest here is that we discover the Lucas family has a young man in their ranks, who wishes to “drink a bottle of wine every night” if he ever gets as rich as Mr Darcy and then argues with Mrs Bennet about it for the rest of their visit. Seeing as he’s a “boy”, I’m imagining that he’s maybe 10 years old and aspiring to conform to the ‘Lord of the Manor’ mold his slice of society expects of him. Probably never drank a drop in his life, outside of communion wine, maybe.

Thoughts

Austen is really laying the theme of “pride” on thick in this chapter

Poor Mr Darcy

I should try to write these earlier, so I’m not finishing them for my audience of about...5 at 11 at night

If you liked what you read : tell me, tell a friend, tell an enemy. Maybe donate to a charity or something. Quite a few to choose from. If you didn’t like it, let me know that too. I’m not in this for validation or anything. Come back next week for Chapter 6, where the chapters begin to get much, much longer.

1 note · View note

cozy-the-overlord · 4 years

Text

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

A/N: Based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name. MAATHP is my favorite song off of Lover, and ever since I heard it this is what I saw in my head. I don’t know what that says about me, but here we go. This is my first time posting on Tumblr, so I’m sorry if this absolutely sucks.....

She came to the school when she was young.

They all do. They arrive as children and leave as adults, marching through the arched gateway with crowns on their heads and smiles on their faces as they turn their sights onto the world at large. And above them, their queen of kings, watching over them all in her sparkling gown and prom picture smile.

Miss Americana.

The girl knew from the moment that she stepped through those doors that someday she would be that woman, that pure and powerful figure who stood above the rest, raised to a pedestal by her doting peers to represent them as a class and as a people. Here, on the ground, she was no one, voiceless, meaningless… up there, she would be everything.

To get her classmates to adore her was critical, and yet it was so simple. She went to games and rallies, plays and parties, cementing her face and figure firmly at the core of school spirit so that they could not think ok one without the other. She danced on the football field with the other cheerleaders as the boys plowed through the enemy and skipped over the line, ball in hand. She relished in the roar that echoed through the stadium and beyond, the sound of screams, of chants, of victory.

“GO! FIGHT! WIN!”

She sat stick straight at the desk in the front of the room, making a show of how attentive and responsible she was by scribbling down notes every time the teachers opened their mouths. Classes didn’t matter as much, though—people looked for devotion, not intelligence.

And so, she rose through the ranks. The Future Majesty, they called her. The Best of All of Us. They clapped for her as she walked through the halls, patted her on the back while telling her she was destined for great things, and she smiled and thanked them because she knew it was true. She basked in the glory of their worship and bathed in the validation that was their love.

They weren’t completely devoted, however. There was one, one boy who sat next to her in the front of the room, who said nothing. He sat at his desk and wrote in his notebook and slunk out of the room with his head down, never sparing her a second glance. She didn’t spare him many glances either. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. Many girls had looked at him with hearts in their eyes and hope in their chest, but he looked past all of them. He was weird, one weird boy in a class of a hundred normal ones, and he didn’t matter.

Still, she wondered about him. Outside of class, she never saw him. Not at the football games, not at the theater troupe’s performances, not at the many dances throughout the year. She had never known a fellow student to have so little spirit. He was an oddity, a challenge. Miss Americana was meant to inspire spirit—surely she could stoke up the fire of patriotism within him?

And so, one day, she leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Are you excited for this Friday’s ceremony?” she asked.

He looked up at her. Looking at his face, she could see why so many fell for him. His eyes were deep and promising, the sparkling shade of a glacier.

“What’s happening this Friday?” he asked, his voice low and disinterested.

“Why, the End of Year Ceremony! You know, when this year’s Miss Americana is crowned and a football game is played in her honor? It’s going to be fabulous, I just know! I can’t wait to see who Miss Americana will be!”

He turned back to his notebook. “You will.”

She smiled and gave her well-practiced soft giggle. “Do you really think so? I’m not sure. There are so many girls who are worthy of it, you know--”

“You will,” He scratched out a mark on the paper as he spoke. “They’ll call your name and put a crown on your head and everyone will clap and lose their minds over it.”

She frowned. “You’re speaking as though you won’t be there.”

“I won’t.”

“Oh, but you must come!” She wrapped her hands around his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s our last big hurrah before we graduate! Don’t you want to savor every moment of it before we leave forever?”

He pulled his arm free and pushed her away. “No. I’m counting the seconds until I can leave and never come back.”

This wasn’t working. How could someone be so stubborn, so cold? “But… why? This is your home, it’s been your home for years--”

“Just because I’ve lived here doesn’t mean it’s home.”

“But it’s been such a wonderful home--”

“Are you really that blind?” He stood up abruptly, snatching his books from his desk. “Do you honestly believe that this is heaven on Earth? Open your eyes. We’re losing.”

She prickled. “We’re undefeated in all of our sports--”

“No. We’re losing to ourselves. We’ve been losing for a long time.” He turned to leave the classroom. “It’s about time you saw that.”

She huffed, her face burning in embarrassment. If that was the way he felt, fine. She didn’t need his support. She didn’t need his love. She didn’t need anything from him. She already had everything.

They crowned her just as he predicted they would. She was all smiles and waves as she ascended to her throne, the picture of grace as she lifted the red silk of her gown oh so slightly to walk up the steps. They cheered, her subjects, her peers, her friends; they all cheered and clapped and roared for her as the crown was placed atop her curls.

“Thank you!” she said. “Thank you so very much! I love you all!”

And then the game began.

It felt odd to watch the cheerleaders run onto the field, waving their red and blue pom poms as they danced to the band’s chant. She was so used to being there, on the grass, welcoming the players herself. It looked a bit different from up here on the podium. Everyone seemed angrier, rougher than usual. But what did it matter? She was Miss Americana.

Until the first snap, and the players rushed at each other. She screamed when boy attacked boy, the football lying forgotten in the grass as players pounded their opponents to the ground, bashing their ribs, their shoulders, their skulls into the dirt, staining the field with splashes of red.

“What are they doing?” she yelled. “Stop them, somebody stop them!”

Everyone else was yelling too, standing on their feet, jumping up and down as they clapped and cheered.

On the sidelines, the cheerleaders screamed.

“GO! FIGHT! WIN!”

She stood up, whipped around to the wizened old man who stood next to her, the one who had crowned her only moments before. “What’s wrong with them? You have to stop them!”

He gave her a quizzical look. “They’re just playing the game.”

“No, they’re not! They’re killing each other!” A new set of players lined up on the field for the next snap, kicking aside the lifeless bodies on the bloodstained grass.

The whistle blew, and the ball went flying, the sound of crushing bones and mangled cries drowned out by the frenzied applause. The man nodded. “They’re winning.”

“Are you blind?” she shrieked. “That’s not winning! They’re hurting each other!”

“My dear, that’s football. It’s fine. The referee will call a foul if things get too bad.”

The referee stood on the sidelines, whistle resting languidly against his chest.

“Are you crazy?” she hissed.

“GO! FIGHT! WIN!” The cheerleaders danced across corpses, their white shoes stained red.

Someone on the sidelines hurtled a rock at one of the players. It struck him in the shoulder, causing him to drop the boy he had been throttling. With a roar, the player rushed at the guilty party, ripping off his helmet to beat his opponent with it. The audience whooped and cheered.

She was shaking. “This isn’t my school.”

The old man smiled. “Yes, it is. We’re winners here. Can’t you see that we’re winning?”

She ran.

She ran away from the screams and the cheers, tripping on her heels as she tumbled down the stairway. The hem of her gown, her gorgeous red gown on which they had spent hours sewing every tiny red sequin, caught between her foot and the floor, and she winced as fabric ripped and sent her sprawling.

“GO! FIGHT! WIN!”

Behind her, they were screaming. Were they coming for her? Did they thirst for her blood as well? She was afraid to look behind her. Kicking off her shoes, she scrambled down the hallway barefoot.

The floor was slick and wet. Blood? How? How could it be here? Lockers flew by her, dented doors barely hanging on to their hinges.

It couldn’t be. She panted as she rushed down the hallway, skidding to avoid the shards of glass that littered the bloodstained floor. It couldn’t be like this. Her school was beautiful, kind, a beacon meant to make the world a better place. Her classmates weren’t savages; they loved and cared for each other and wanted the best for everyone. They elected her to represent that to the rest of the country. This wasn’t right!

Open your eyes. We’re losing.

She tripped, her lips kissing blood as she hit the tile. Frantically, she tried to stand, but the floor was so slippery, there was nothing to hold on to, there was nothing—

Arms wrapped around her waist and she shrieked, writhing like a feral animal as they hauled her to her feet. She whipped around, ready to fight for her life….

The boy from class stood behind her. He cocked his head as he studied her, his glacier eyes piercing deep into her soul. She grabbed his wrist.

“We’ve got to get out of here—out there, did you see? It’s a massacre—”

“I know.” His voice was low and quiet, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke. He tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

“Has it always been like this?” she asked. “Every game?”

He nodded. “And the rallies. And parties. And everything else.”

She inhaled. “How did I never see?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Nobody seems to see. I thought I was the only one.” He offered a hand. “We should go… It’s not safe here. Probably never was.”

Her eyes followed his hand, but she didn’t take it. “Why are you here?” she finally asked. “If you could see everything, the whole time, why did you stay?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes seemed to be clouded, the glaciers obscured by a fog. “I hated it here. But leaving… never felt right.”

“But it does now?”

“Yes. It does now.” He lifted his gaze back to hers and let out a breath of a laugh, the tiniest smile cracking across his lips. “Maybe I was waiting for you.”

She laughed too.

He thrust his hand towards her again, as if to emphasize its existence. “Well… shall we?”

The girl smiled, the shouts and screams of the field melting away into nothingness. “Lead the way.”

#taylor swift #miss americana and the heartbreak prince #songfic #lover

18 notes · View notes

emthoughtsblog · 4 years

Text

I’ll never be prom queen.

My entire life I wanted someone to notice me. Notice my beauty and be happy standing next to me. No one did. I use to hate how I looked in the mirror and cried because I had no validation from boys. Now I think about it, I was so stupid. I was beautiful. This voice in my head gets in the way of life. I want it to stop but instead I give in. I’ve shed so many tears because I wanted to look like all the skinny girls and be likeable but I never got the attention I wanted. Just like the song Prom Queen goes, “two girls walk in the part, the one that doesn’t get noticed isn’t me” That’s my life story. Even in the 4th fucking grade, my classmates would date. Ask me if anyone wanted to date me. No! Instead when I transferred schools, boys from my class called me and laughed through the phone call because they were making fun of me and telling me they like me when they didn’t. I had a horrifying time at my grade school. I felt rediculed, fat, unlikeable, and hated. I believe that I felt body shamed because of how those students made me feel. I never felt good enough. Not for my teachers, nor my parents, nor for anyone. This doesn’t go away. It haunts me every day and destroys my relationships. I wish I can just take care of my little self and tell her you’re okay. I want to take care of little Emilita. I want to love her and give her all the attention she needs. Because she just wanted to be someone to somebody. But instead she was made fun. Mental health is serious that’s why I want to help others with it.

1 note · View note

nancydrew65 · 5 years

Text

SKAM Austin Season 2 Episode 9 Thoughts

So, I thought this was the last episode, but then a clip was released today. I’m guessing there will be ten total episodes in this season. Like I said before, Daniel is officially canceled in my book, so if you don’t want to hear me ranting about what an asshole he is... maybe don’t read this.

Home

Grace had to drive out to Clay’s school just to talk to him. God, can she get a break?

Clay is trying to laugh things off, but Grace is serious AF.

And then that asshole calls Grace a slut. He is such a horrible human being. Why does Daniel believe him over Grace? I will never understand this storyline. He knows his brother is psycho, why would he believe anything he says?

Grace “apologizes” to Clay and he says: “It is a scary time to be a guy, you know?” I thought that was an especially good line to put in to SKAM Austin. Men in the United States say that all the time now that #MeToo is a thing. Heck, even our president says it. It is disgusting. I mean, you think it is scary to be a guy and be accused of sexual harassment? How about being a woman and experiencing sexual harassment. That is a hell of a lot scarier.

Then Grace goes off on him, exposing him for the terrible person he is. She is such a badass in this scene. I missed this beautiful, strong woman.

Clay rushes to assure Grace that he didn’t do anything to her, but it is hard to believe him. Grace just threatened to report him to the police. I am willing to bet he would lie to her, just to get her off his case.

But I have to say, my favorite part of the clip is when Grace walked away and Megan was waiting for her on the curb to drive her home. This brings up a small issue I have with Austin. It is not even really an issue, but something I would have liked to see. I wish we could have seen Megan and Grace’s relationship more this season. Last season, we didn’t really get much and we didn’t this season either. I think it is a problem with the remakes in general. The Eva character kind of gets sidelined in Noora’s season. The remake that portrays these girls’ friendship the best is SKAM NL in my opinion. I love seeing scenes of Isa and Liv together because they are just so close.

That being said, I adored this scene. I think it may be my favorite iteration of the confrontation scene yet.

Ready to Talk

Grace texts Daniel about everything, explaining that she might never know what happened, how terrifying the whole ordeal was, that she might have been drugged. Daniel starts texting back, but never sends anything.

This is the point of no return for me. Let me tell you a story. When I first watched SKAM Season 2, I didn’t find anything too inherently wrong with it. At this point in time, I wasn’t aware of the whole social media and text aspect of the series, so I was just watching the full episodes without any of the context of the instagram posts or text messages posted. Sure, I definitely felt uncomfortable about some parts of the storyline, like William constantly pressuring Noora to go out with him or come to his parties. Even when the scene came out where William confronted Noora about the Niko situation, despite how awfully he treated her, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I thought, “Well, he doesn’t know the whole story. Who knows what Niko told him and Noora really didn’t get a chance to explain herself.” I finished off the season with this mindset. It was only later that I learned about the text messages posted online. I learned that Noora had explained what happened to William, telling him that she had most probably been sexually assaulted. This is where the character of William lost any sympathy I might have had for him. Going back to SKAM Austin, Daniel disregards his girlfriend’s feelings when he has full knowledge that she might have been drugged and sexually assaulted. He treats her like shit after this, not texting her or talking to her. Nothing he does can ever redeem him in my eyes. Grace deserves better.

God is a Woman

The girls are all chilling, getting ready to go to Prom later. Kelsey waltzes in, looking gorgeous in her pale blue prom dress. She talks about she used to feel that she had to be skinny to be successful, but now she realizes otherwise. She pulls out a water bottle that is filled with alcohol.

Megan refuses a drink when Kelsey offers, saying she wants to take a break from drinking - and from Marlon.

Kelsey whole heartedly agrees, stating that they don’t need boys to validate them. This is one of the most flawed parts of Season 2 for me. Kelsey and Megan realize that they don’t need boys to have self-worth (which is such a great message for teenage girls), but Grace (the lead of this season) experiences the opposite of that. She is strong and confident without a man in the first season and the beginning of this season, but by the end she needs Daniel to be happy. There is so much disconnect between the two messages this season is trying to put forward.

Jo complains about her boy trouble with the guy she’s been talking to online and the girls assure her she doesn’t need him.

#Prom

OK, well this Prom is a hell of a lot nicer than the one my school offered. We actually had Prom on the exact same night, so…

Pen-Joe comes up to Jo and Grace, asking Jo for a dance. Like the boss lady that she is, Jo replies “I already have a boyfriend” in Spanish. That is right, Pen-Joe. You lost your chance with the beautiful woman that is Josefina Valencia.

Back inside the dance, Abby announces Daniel as Prom King, but apparently he didn’t show up. This reminds me of yet another awful thing Daniel did to Grace. He said they were going to Prom together, but then he never shows up. Dude.

Zoya wins Prom Queen!!!!! I wasn’t sure if we were going to get this scene, but we did and I am so damn happy for her. She deserves it.

Grace asks Pen-Joe where Daniel is, but he just says that “family stuff”. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Out on the dance floor, Kelsey is dancing with a nice-looking dude, Zoya and Megan are dancing together, and Jo accepts Pen-Joe’s offer for a dance. You better make him apologize for the rude way he treated you, girl.

Aw, Grace posts a selfie of herself looking happy, but you can tell it is all a facade. She goes to join Megan and Zoya.

Welcome to My Life

It is the middle of the night and Grace gets a message on instagram from xxtrinity2121 about Clay.

A conversation ensues between the two girls. Apparently this mystery instagram girl is their version of Mari, telling Grace nothing happened between her and Clay. Obviously, this news is a great relief to Grace.

They also talk about how stressed they both are, with xxtrinity2121 confessing that she is very depressed and sometimes thinks about killing herself. Since this clip was posted, a chat was posted on SKAM Austin’s website between Grace and this girl which leads me to believe she has a more important role than just being the Mari stand-in. I have heard a lot of theories of who she is. A lot of people think she is Tyler, who is either trying to fool Grace or he was actually the person in bed with her and Clay. I don’t think the latter option is true because it looked like a girl in the bed to me when I re-watched that clip. Another interesting idea is that she is the Austin version of Even. I mean her username xxtrinity2121 has the number 21:21 in it. I really like this theory and hope it is true. That would be so interesting.

Usually Never Wrong

Zoya and Grace are walking down the hall, when Zoya pulls Abby over. She apologizes for not believing Abby about what a bad guy Hunter is. Abby tells her no problem and says she is really happy how everyone came together to support Zoya as Prom Queen, how it would have been racist if Zoya hadn’t won. Now, I don’t think Abby was trying to be mean. I genuinely think she was trying to be nice, but obviously it really hurt Zoya. She walks away. God, I feel so bad for Zoya. She deserved to win Prom Queen on her own merit, not because people think it would be racist for her not to. I think this is really gearing up to her season and I really hope she gets to have one.

Grace spots Daniel in the quad and rushes up to him, asking where he’s been. He says he’s been to see Clay. No elaboration. Then he tells her he’s going to New York for the summer. Well, I guess it’s not as bad as moving to London permanently like William was planning on doing.

Grace says she wants to talk and Daniel says “I’m done talking. It’s too much.” Too much? For you? Grace could have been sexually assaulted and this asshole has the nerve to claim it’s too much for him?God, I hate Daniel.

Grace runs after him, yelling her most iconic line yet. “Daniel, stop being a little bitch.” She tells him off. She says that a lot of stuff happened and it sucked. For her. I’m really glad they gave her that line. Because it is so damn true. Then she starts talking about how no one has loved her like Daniel has, blah, blah, blah. I wish we’d gotten more of Grace’s parents backstory because that would have given better context to this scene.

Daniel still gets in the car and drives away. As Grace is crying at the curb, we see him run back to her and they embrace.

She says she can explain everything, and he says she doesn’t need to. A lot of people were overjoyed at this line, but…. She already explained everything in the text she sent him and he ignored her and treated her like shit afterward when he finally saw her. This line makes no sense to me.

Whatever, I know a lot of people were happy they finally got together, but I can never fully forgive Daniel.

General Thoughts

This was a weird week because we got a bunch of clips on Saturday and then on one Monday and nothing else the entire week. I do think there were a lot of good parts of the clips, aside from Daniel drama. Also, the clip where Grace and Clay talk might be my favorite clip this season or for SKAM Austin in general. I think they executed it beautifully. See you next week for the last episode of this season!

#skam austin #skam remakes #skam reaction

12 notes · View notes