#buzz buzz mail for z | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

Text

Inspired partially by the twitter trend of The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It and just in time for Valentine’s Day!

Gender Neutral Reader Insert.

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me on KoFi!

__________________________

While sitting in the car, you watch out the window. Folks buzz around you--some folks looking content, strolling about their day. Others are flitting around, a bit of crease in their forehead. And you feel for them. You know those days where there’s just not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Or it’s when one thing sets off a spiral of all terrible things. Or when you just don’t wake up on the right side of the bed. You know that crease all too well because currently you were having a bad sleeping week.

You were getting tired when you were supposed to but the second you put your head on the pillow your brain was hot wired--keeping you up with all the things you needed to do, hadn’t done, all the appointments you had kept pushing off. It was finding the littlest things to find that anxiety and keep you staring up at the ceiling. Calum noticed the tossing and turning and tried his best to lull you to sleep this week, fixing you tea in the evening, getting you off your phone or laptop a couple hours before bed. He even started reading to you, but your ears picked up on the white noise of everything in the house. Your brain picked up the embarrassing memory that you hadn’t even considered in decades and now holding it in front of your mind’s eye for hours on end during the week.

Like right now, you should’ve been at home sleeping. Your work was giving you a long weekend and you really could’ve used the time to catch some extra Z’s, but you were, admittedly, a little scared to stay home. Sure maybe you did fall asleep cuddled up next to Duke. But you worried that you’d stay up, worry yourself sick some more so when Calum told you he had some errands to run you immediately tagged along. The time running around would hopefully tire you out enough that when you got home you could actually fall asleep.

So after Calum’s personal training session in the morning, which you sort of tagged along for, but mostly went through your own routine and getting a solid breakfast, you two were now buzzing around from store to store. Calum had gotten most of the grocery the other day, but he forgot a couple things so your first objective was to grab those and bring them back up. He then had to go to the post office to mail out his mother’s birthday cards and a few other things.

While in the line at the post office, your head tucked into his back, Calum got a phone call from a guitar shop on the other side of time about a new model that had just come in. Calum had been eying it for ages, but he didn’t want to be reckless with his money especially after getting some work on his teeth and to the house. So he asked the guitar shop to keep an eye out for when more stock arrived in case it sold out before Calum felt comfortable spending a large sum of money like that again.

The store agreed to set one off to the side for him and could keep it on hold until the end of the day. Which was perfect--still gave the two of you time to get lunch. You didn’t need to get anything, didn’t need to do anything. But even after lunch, Calum made one more pit stop. Here now at the gas station, you sit peering through the windshield and can see a mother with her two sons walking from the doors. They boys hold brightly colored icees in their hand, each clutching a bag field with goodies.

You aren’t entirely sure whey Calum needed to stop here for anything. It’s not like he needed stamps, since he got those at the post office. He hadn’t pulled in to get gas. Lunch had been filling, though you tried not to stuff yourself too much just because you knew that on a long car ride, the last thing you wanted to do was be uncomfortably full.

The door opens again, Calum strutting through with his glasses covering his eyes and resting comfortably atop the chubby cheeks. Barely hanging from the crook of his fingers is a brown plastic bag. The doors click open and he climbs into the driver seat. The guitar shop wasn’t that far, but today seemed to be a busy day on the road. Took you all too long just to get to the grocery store this morning.

“Snacks?”

“Was craving something sweet after lunch.”

You peer into the bag as he hands it over to you. Some gummy bears, gum, a bar or two of chocolate you can’t quite tell. You set it onto the floor at your feet. “Let me know when you want something.” But he’s already tearing into a Twix bar when you glance at him. “Or not,” you laugh.

“The other stuff is for you--if you want to indulge. Can’t forget ya,” he pushes the glasses down for just a moment to wink at you and then looks into the rearview mirror.

“Do you think you’re going to get this one?” you asks as the SUV rolls out from the parking lot and onto the asphalt of the highway.

“Hmm, maybe. Gotta see how it feels first.”

You nod at his question, resting your head into the cushion of the seat. And it goes quiet for a while. The radio plays softly in the background, and every so often the packaging crinkles as Calum downs more of the chocolate and caramel treat.

“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon,” Calum states, while paused in a bit of traffic. “Got any ideas on what you want to do for it?”

You think for a moment. Valentine’s Day has never been your thing--being perpetually single does that to a person. “Restaurants are going to be a nightmare.”

“Yeah, they will be.” Another crinkle comes from the right side of the car and then his arm reaches behind your seat, finding the small bag of trash you stash there--though you have to be careful when Duke sits in the backseat. Generally though, he doesn’t mess with too much. “My mom sent me a recipe of hers. It’s really good.”

“I’d be down for cooking.”

“Nothing else? Don’t wanna go sky diving? Give me another heart attack?”

You laugh thinking about the first birthday you spent with Calum together as a couple. “You didn’t die.”

“But I did almost shit myself.”

“You can play on stage to thousands of people, but no, jumping from a plane is a no-go.”

“Yes, because I am a sane human.”

You huff out a small tuft of laughter and turn to look at him. One hand on the wheel with the stainless steel linked chain dangling from his wrist. His other arm is resting against the door, gently tapping out a beat with his long slender fingers. “Do you want to do anything?”

“Valentine’s Day,” he scoffs. “How long have we been dating? When have I ever been dying to do anything on some random day in February.” His statement doesn’t fall venomously from his mouth. He even looks over to you with a smile. “I don’t need one day out of 365 to declare my love for someone.”

And it’s true. While Calum wasn’t super accepting of love from new people, while it took you months to show Calum that you were trustworthy and not someone to keep at an arm’s length, once he cracked open, he oozed adoration and love for people. And you knew it was a defense mechanism. You knew that when someone did care as hard as Calum did it wouldn’t always be an easy thing to win over.

Calum, when he finally let someone one, loved hard. It could be a random Tuesday in July or a Sunday in February, and he would make sure his love was known. He never needed a special occasion to send flowers, to cook dinner, to offer to drive you to doctors appointments because he knew that sometimes you got too nervous or flustered by them to drive but did manage to push through if absolutely necessary. He’d easily pick up some gloves and an extra sponge if he saw you wiping down the walls in the kitchen or wiping through the counter. He kept fridge cleaning days marked on the calendar. And when you added reminders to wash bed sheets to the shared one, he also include rest breaks for you too.

Calum had never needed someone to force him to show appreciation.

“I mean, there is the option to literally do nothing on Valentine’s Day. Like treat it as any other day.”

“That’s still something,” he countered, turning on his signal and switching out from the middle lane. His exit was approaching in another mile and a half.

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh. “We can’t cease to exist that day. Bare minimum we need to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Calum laughs softly, showing some of his teeth too. “Fair, fair. There’s another Netflix documentary coming out, true crime one. I forget what it’s fully about, but I think it’s about a serial killer if you’d be down to start it then?”

“When would I ever turn down the opportunity to be a detective with you?”

“You haven’t yet,” he states with laughter in his voice.

“And I never will.” The ramp takes the two of you down and down and soon you’re winding through streets and not too far you can see the shopping center coming into view. He pulls into the lot of the shop and the two of you step out in unison.

The bell above the door chimes as he opens it for you and you smile often in your thanks. “Hey, Calum!” one of the guys at the register calls out. The store is fairly empty. But you’re not shocked on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Hey, Derek. How’s it going?” Calum heads directly over to the counter and you look up to the left wall, at the records on display.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the second guy states to you, “or if you want to see anything.” He’s younger than Derek, both look to be equally tattooed from the pieces that peek out from the short sleeve work shirts, but his face is significantly brighter.

“Thanks,” you return and go back to the displays. You can hear Calum and Derek chatting but slowly tune it out, make it background noise to the music playing through the speakers.

You turn to walk towards the back where more instruments sit and you can see Calum leaning into the glass display of the counter. The palms of his hand pressed into the metal edge. The sunglasses sit on top of his head and you notice the younger guy glancing over at you again.

He nods again and then goes back to his computer. Nothing else is said. And you look over the stringed instruments, ukuleles, some violins and then you spin around again, done with that lap and go to head up to Calum. “See anything?” he asks.

You shake your head. “You’re the musically talented one. I just nod and smile when you talk about it.”

Derek returns, a case in hand. He comes out from the hinged doors that separate the sales floor from the registers and back of the store. You scoot a little closer to the display as the case is transferred over. Calum takes it easily heading to the corner you just abandoned to sit and check out the instrument. It’s a beautiful deep green, almost reminds you of the thick Washington forest. The body is slender.

“That’s a pretty cool color,” you note, watching Calum work his fingers over the frets.

He grins up at you. “Think so?” You give another nod. He doesn’t inspect it long before you can see the desire to give in crosses his face.

Derek’s standing close by and you turn to him and keep your voice as close to a whisper as you can while still being heard. “What’s a bass like that cost?”

He rattles off the price, one eyebrow slightly raised over the other. You know Calum will riot--he’ll pitch a fucking fit. But you reach into your wallet and slide out your card. You had been saving--for a year. You wanted to do something big for Calum. You just didn’t know what it was yet specifically though you had some ideas, a bass was top of the list. But you didn’t want to try and go out and buy a bass without consulting him, without getting an understanding of what he liked. You thought about maybe a really good leather jacket and some more boots. He loved the ones he had, wore them as much as he could.

And when you mentioned possibly getting him more, he told you the ones he had were still in good shape. Calum wasn’t the type to just buy clothes to buy them. He indulged here and there, but always made a point to wear something he had down before replacing it. You’d tease the subject a couple more times after that, but he never took the bait and you weren’t going to force him into a thing he didn’t want or need.

But it’s clear to you that this is something he wants. But he’ll tussle with himself and never give in on it. It’s pricer than you thought it would be. But you too were being smart, having finally paid off the last of your car, you start moving those payments to savings and it helped a great deal. You were fine. You get insurance and the whole deal as Derek advises. By the time you slide the receipt back across the counter, Calum comes back to the registers. “I appreciate you holding it for me, man. But I don’t think I can right now.”

Derek looks at you and you look down into the glass. “It’s--it’s yours, dude.”

“What?” Calum breathes behind you.

“They-uh, they paid for it,” Derek says, nodding at you.

You can feel the heat in your body now and spin around to face Calum in a rush. “Consider it a not Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Ever since I finished paying off my car, I saved the payments to do something nice for you. Didn’t know what it was going to be for sure. But I know you, Calum. You’d want something and tell yourself no. I mean you can treat yourself sometimes.”

“You-you didn’t?” His eyes are rapidly blinking, head shaking like he doesn’t want to believe you. Like he can’t believe you as his mouth mumbles out, “No,” repeatedly.

“It’s yours,” you nod. “It’s really yours.”

If it weren’t for the weight of the bass, you’re sure Calum would’ve tipped over, maybe even rushed to Derek to hand the case back over, but instead he’s weighed down, chained to this spot in the blue speckled carpet of the store, still repeating, “No,” softly.

“‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to find space in your office for it now. Because I refuse to return it.” You step forward, find the handle and slip your hands around it taking it from Calum. A small grunt leaves you and then you start to the door, throwing a thanks to Derek.

The lights to the SUV blink and you can hear the locks clicking open as you push open the door to the store. “Wait--what are you doing?” Calum asks.

“Open the trunk please,” you ask.

“Let me do it,” he demands, stepping in close to take the case with the bass now. “What the fuck did you do? Baby, this is expensive.”

“It’s not a Valentine’s Day gift,” you answer again. “Because I love you. On a random Tuesday.”

He gets the instrument safely into the trunk and then closes it, watching dumbly as you climb into the passenger side. He walks to the driver seat and climbs in, taking you gently by the chin. “That was absolutely reckless and unnecessary-- ”

“I am just absolutely reckless and unnecessary then,” you counter, “because I’m not returning it.”

“--but thank you. Thank you so much,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Then it’s silent, as the two of your gaze at each other, watching what could almost be tears well in his eyes, but they don’t fall.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like you, but whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.”

“I’m glad you did it too.” The two of you return home, Duke rushing to the front door as the two of you step through it. Calum safely places the bass in his music room/office and returns shortly after to help you decide on what to order for dinner.

As the two of you settle onto the couch, Calum takes your hand and presses a kiss to teach knuckle. “I’m gonna teach you how to play.”

“You know we’ve done this before.”

“And you were good at it.”

“I was alright at it.”

“It’ll be your bass,” he whispers.

“I bought it for you,” you return tossing your head back to look at him.

He kisses your lips. “Yeah, but it’ll be the one that I teach you to play for real one and it’ll be yours--just as much as it is mine.”

“A true sap,” you laugh, but nod and return your focus back to the TV.

In the week that follows, Calum makes sure to take an hour in the evenings to set you down and pick up on the lessons. They fizzled out as work for the both of you picked up. But now things are a bit more calm. He sits next to you, assessing what you remember from last time and correcting finger placements as needed, but they go smoothly.

When Valentine’s Day does come, Calum pulls you back into bed for just five more minutes of sleep. And five minutes turns into half an hour. But finally you two pull yourself out from the sheets, figure out what to do in the midmorning that results in food being consumed and then you slowly gravitate towards different sections of the house.

There’s still a bit of laundry to be done and Calum takes Duke out for just a little bit. The two of you migrate back together by mid afternoon. He finds you making a quick lunch and presses a kiss to your cheek. You turn to face him, squeezing at his. “I bought some face masks,” he offers. “Care to join me in doing the bare minimum of converting oxygen into carbon dioxide after your lunch?”

“Don’t see how I could pass up such a wonderful offer? You want anything?” He shakes head, mentioning grubbing on some of the leftovers earlier while you took a nap.

With your lunch done and the plates cleaned, you find Calum in the bedroom and let him know you’re ready for the face masks. He shuffles to the bathroom. “I hope I got the right one for you,” he mutters. “I got them forever ago it feels, so who the hell knows what I got.” His laughter is soft as he rummages through the bins under the skin.

“I’ll be in the office,” you tell him and he nods, still pulling bins out. You settle into the couch and spy the green bass still on the stand from yesterday. You pull it into your lap and sling your arm over it. The amp next to you is off, you know but you still pluck away at it as if it were on.

Calum shuffles in a few minutes later. “Um, babe. It’s off.”

You don’t reply but do look up. He holds up three different packages. “Here’s to hoping one of these is worthwhile.” You place your bass back to the stand and take one that sounds like one you’re okay with using. Calum hands you a towel so you can wipe your fingers off after you get it placed onto your face. He helps get it right and then you help him with his and the two of you slip onto the couch, legs entangled and leaning into opposite ends of the couch.

You laugh at Calum’s story as you scroll mindless through app after app. In the boredom you snap a picture of Calum with the face masks on and don’t think too much of it, saving it to the album with all the silly and cute photos of him are--there are tons.

“I mean the sun is a star. Though the ones we see have been dead for a long time.”

Calum taps your leg with his foot. “It was a simple question--to be the sun or the stars. I didn’t ask for this philosophical crisis.”

“Why would it not weigh in your decision! If you’re a star like the ones we see at night, you’re technically already dead. You wanna be dead?” You huff, sitting up.

“I mean, no, but c’mon.”

“It’s a valid thing to consider, that’s all I’m saying!”

He laughs. “Okay, sun or the moon?”

“You first,” you return and just then your alarm on your phone goes off. The two of you shuffle back to the bathroom and take off the masks.

“Moon, maybe,” he counters.

You nod. “Fitting. When should we get started on that recipe of your moms? Is it super involved?”

“Nah, it’s pretty easy. Normal time should be good. I’m going to read outside if you want to join.”

“Maybe in a bit.”

Calum nods, grabbing his book as he passes through the bedroom and the patter of Duke’s claws follow behind him. You go back to the music room, turn on the amp and then actually play a little something. It’s nothing fancy--just the arrangement you put together with Calum as a practice exercise once. You play it for a bit, adding a little flair. When you phone rings, you pause to answer it. You wouldn’t normally, but the number looks semi recognizable so you answer it.

It’s just a scam call and you hang up but then notice some other notifications. Before you realize it, you’re deep into Twitter. You’ve run across the trend of people posting pictures of themselves and their significant others with the caption, The Face Vs The Face Sitting On It. It made you laugh just a little bit at first. And then you kept going down the rabbit hole. Some are silly, most are good pictures.

While it’s not exactly secret that you and Calum are dating, you two don’t post too much. Calum isn’t incline to post on social media in the first place and while you use it a bit more than him, you try not to post too much about him out of respect. However, as you look tap on quote retweet and bring up your photos you think maybe one silly post wouldn’t hurt. So you grab the one of him recently with the face masks and then one of yourself--it’s silly too, a little blurry too in the darkness that it was taken in.

You hit post and watch the likes come in. Then keep scrolling. Eventually you have to put the bass away and peel yourself from the couch to find Calum and see if he’s hungry enough for dinner. Just as you round the corner to the office, you spy him stepping through the glass sliding backdoor. “Hungry?” you ask.

He nods, “Yeah.”

The two of you, with Duke trotting ahead, make your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You’re funny,” he states, washing his hands first.

“Thank you. I’ll be here until you kick me out.”

He laughs. “No, the pictures you posted. On Twitter.”

You’re shocked that he noticed it that fast. Normally it took him a bit longer to see silly stuff like that. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah. What I hope you don’t mind is my reply.”

At first you’re nervous. Calum could’ve gone one of two ways--super silly and broke out even worse photos of you possibly not sober or he went super on trend with it and pulled out a photo of you done up for a date night. Not that you preferred one over the other, but sometimes you liked to keep your relationship light on social media. It was easier that way. There wasn’t any real pressure that way. Though the fans seemed to have enjoyed it when you posted more posed and serious content.

You liked to keep it a bit more real. You and Calum didn’t do the whole nine yards a lot--you two were normal people who hated getting out of bed some days and went as well into the afternoon before showering at times and walked Duke and went to doctor’s appointments like everyone does. So you always opted for a bit of a joke, a silly Tweet or photo whenever you could.

“What did you post?” you ask.

He shrugs, taking up the knife to dice the onion. “I’m not telling you.”

You glance at the printed out recipe and get a pan on the aisle over medium heat before pulling out your phone. As you load the app, you listen to the snap of the knife fitting the wooden cutting board. You type Calum’s name and tap onto his profile.

While there’s is silly--I do want to take a moment to show off my favorite person in the world. So here we go, The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It. Below is attached a picture of him--you snapped while you two were out for lunch one day. The black t-shirt tight around his biceps as he slyly grins into the camera. The lights in the background are just barely in focus of the resturant and Calum’s glancing out of the window next to him. You remember that you were recording him, or at least you thought you were, and told him that he was handsome. Not the first time, but everytime he did, he blushed and turn away. And you captured it here too.

The photo of you is actually one with him in it. The guys got together and did a big family dinner and the two of you posed at Crystal’s request in the slightly matching outfits. You hadn’t intended to match--though black was a staple in both your wardrobes. You were a bit different thanks to the pop of color in your shoes, but in the lighting of the street lamp, you had to admit that you did look hot. The first couple of buttons on your shirt you were undone and with your hands tucked into the pockets, you looked like you owned shit.

“While I hoped that you’d go with something more silly, I will take this,” you finally say.

“That picture is literally my background for a reason,” he returns.

You kiss his cheek and then trace over the stubble with your teeth to his ear. “Can I make a reservation for tonight?”

“The table is reserved for you literally at all times,” he returns in a breathe.

“Good,” you laugh and then glance back to the recipe.

#calum hood #calum hood blurb #calum hood x reader #calum hood x reader insert #calum hood imagine #calum hood smut #Calum Hood smut adjacent #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #h writes #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #gender netural reader

149 notes · View notes

demi-shoggoth · 3 years

Text

2021 Reading Log, pt. 25

121. The Unnatural Order of the Three Eyed Skull’s Field Guide, Vol. 3by Andrew P. Barr. This appears to be the last planned volume, as the fictional Andrew Barr is dead within the realm of the book. Of course, posthumously discovered notes, or even spirit writings, are staples of the horror milieu @andrewbarrillustrator is working in, and I would be delighted to see his remaining Monsters by Mail collected into a fourth volume. The creatures this time around include a smattering of gill-men and one or two folkloric entities, but are almost entirely original. Many of the sighting dates are also from 2020, which gives a great imagination hook. While many people were keeping their heads down during the pandemic, stranger things were crawling out of the woodwork.

121a. Occult America by Mitch Horowitz. I gave up on this fifty pages in. Although its main thesis is interesting (magical studies are intertwined with American religious life, especially for the various new religions that originated in the states), it cannot stick to a single thread for long enough to follow it through. It jumps wildly around in time and space in each chapter, not going in any particular apparent order in presenting its ideas. It whitewashes the inherent racism of beliefs like the presence of a “superior civilization” predating the American Indians, or Madame Blatavsky’s white supremacy. And it paints the Public Universal Friend as female, and refers to them by their birth name, instead of respecting the genderless presentation that was a major part of their spiritual presence. I would love to read a good book on the influence of the Burned Over District and occultism in American history. But this isn’t it.

122. Space Atlas, Second Edition by James Trefil. This is a very handsome volume put together by the National Geographic Society, with global views of all of the planets, some of the dwarf planets and moons, maps of the night sky and the galaxy, and more. Each chapter is extensively illustrated with photos and artistic rendering, and there are multiple sidebars highlighting the lives and accomplishments of astronomers and cosmologists. The book does abandon the “atlas” format in the last third, talking about the life cycle of stars, the Big Bang, and string theory, among other concepts. The book begins with a lengthy foreword by Buzz Aldrin, discussing the Apollo program and his plans to build long term research stations on the Moon and Mars. It’s somewhat self-aggrandizing, but I figure if anyone deserves to be self-aggrandizing, it’s someone who walked on the Moon.

123. The Dictionary of Demons: Expanded and Revised by M. Belanger. This is a book that’s been on my radar for a while, and I finally managed to get myself a copy when the second edition was released in a reasonably priced paperback. It’s an A-Z guide to the names of demons, mostly obtained through grimoires, but also including biblical, apocryphal and a few demons obtained through witch trial records. There’s a lot of overlap between sources, and the cross-referencing isn’t perfect, but it’s pretty good. Appendices and the introduction explain ritual magic in general and the traditions of binding and extorting demons in particular, as well as summarize the zodiac, planetary and other themes of the demons within. Recommended for anyone interested in fiends, magical history or just getting a collection of weird names. Although, personally, I am fondest of the hosts of Hell that have names that are super mundane to modern ears. Poor Amy, Darek, Leonard and Zach…

124. The Sirens of Mars by Sarah Stewart Johnson. This is another “popular science as memoir” two-in-one book, although it’s heavier on the science and lighter on the memoir than say, The Book of Eels. And since this is the memoir of a professor who’s worked on three Mars rovers, the overlap between the two subtopics is pretty strong. Johnson covers the history of people’s obsession with the idea of life on Mars, and how that has been altered and expectations shifted over the course of the various scientific expeditions since the 1960s. Johnson is an excellent writer, and I would be curious to see if she writes another book for wide audiences—she has a knack for explaining sedimentation and mineralization processes in interesting, readable ways.

125. Drunk by Edward Slingerland. This book supposes to tell the story about how intoxication, and alcohol use particularly, is an adaptive trait to humans and a cornerstone of how our civilization works. It does not succeed especially well. Basically, it’s built on a house of cards—it supposes that human evolution both works in concrete, goal-oriented ways and very quickly. It also has a real issue with whether non-human animals are supposed to be genetic automata and we’re unique, or if studying non-human animals can give us insights into human psychology and neurochemistry. It feels like he’s trying to have it both ways. Some of the things it has to say about history and comparative religion are interesting, but the biological framework doesn’t stand up. It’s worth pointing out that of the glowing pull quotes on the back, none of them are from evolutionary biologists or animal behavior specialists. An entertaining read, but should be taken with more than a grain of salt.

#reading log #astronomy #alcohol #mars #national geographic #occult #demon #demonology #monster book

37 notes · View notes

prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry, Ch. 8

<- Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 ->

Summary: Frederick alone.

2,163 words

How many days had he been in the hospital? There had been at least one more surgery since you left. More blood transfusions.

It all bled together without you there. There was nothing to distinguish one day from the next except the tedious procedures—a blood test to see how his kidney was holding up, some new skin here, a z-plasty there. He was a little bit glad you were not there when they grafted his penis with a stretchable mesh of skin. God forbid he got aroused while that was healing. He laughed at the thought, as if your absence was just temporary.

The sun outside his window told him whether it was day or night, but the stretches of hours he was knocked out under anesthetic and pain meds made it impossible to know whether it was was from the same day, or if he had slept until the next one. Without your schedule to ground him, it was pointless bothering to find out.

At least you were not always touching him, asking him about his feelings. Staring. He could feel the pressure of your gaze on his face, dancing like jabbing needles across his barely-healed skin. He hated it. He had some peace and quiet now.

It did not feel real yet. It seemed so certain you would be back—you had become such a steadfast presence in his life for the past three years, he never imagined you could leave it. Not forever. It did not seem beyond taking back.

But as much as he was in denial, he knew what he said could not be taken back. One cannot break off an engagement, tell their fiancé to move out, and expect things to ever go back to normal.

He didn’t need you. You always hated his preening, the sophisticated circles he traveled in. You wanted him this way—destroyed and disgusting, unable to pass in decent society. He was not sure if he really believed that, or if he just needed a reason to hate you.

A nurse could bring him the phone. All he had to do was press the nurse call button and Pamela would come running, and he could call you. He could apologize. If he reached you before you got rid of the ring, before you packed your bags, he might be able to convince you to stay.

He did not call.

***

The sun was down, whatever day it was. There was still fluorescent light shining in from the hallway, enough to dimly light the room. Frederick lay awake. Parts of his back ached from lying in the same position too long, and it had been too long since a nurse came and shifted him. He shifted himself, what little he could, and the heart monitor climbed frantically with the feeble effort of a few inches. His tight scar tissue pulled like he was wearing too-tight denim over his whole body, and his more recent stitches stung. He was so weak. So pathetically weak.

The sun was up again, some time later. Frederick eyed the small stack of mail for him at his bedside table. You were always the one who read to him. But he did not need you.

He pressed the nurse call button, which had been rigged with tape and a wooden tongue depressor into a large switch he could push more easily with his limited dexterity. He pushed down on it and it buzzed so loudly he swore, a throb of pain shooting through the back of his skull. Part of the jury-rigged switch caught on the gauze mitten wrapped around his hand and left the switch stuck on in a continual buzz. He swore again, more fiercely, and jerked his hand until the makeshift switch snapped, and the call button fell off the edge of the bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Where the hell was the nurse? If this had been an emergency he could be dead by now.

In his last physical therapy session, he had been able to reach nearly as far as the bedside table, with assistance. He reached for an envelope, and his mittened hand made it all the way to the edge of the bed before bumping against the metal railing that prevented him from rolling out. That was it. All at once, every latent frustration came out at that goddamned railing in a primal scream. He punched the metal—barely a twitch with his atrophied muscles, but enough to sting his tender fingers and draw another enraged shout. His breathing came in heavy, choked bursts, and he began to sob.

When finally a nurse showed up—his favorite, Pamela—she didn’t make any humiliating sympathetic comments about the tears wetting his face. He asked if you had called or tried to visit.

You had not.

***

The dead at least have the luxury of being done with what they lost.

The sky was dark, nearly black with clouds, though Frederick suspected it was day. Heavy rain pummeled against the window, and it gave the room a cold, dreary cast. He wondered if there was a way he could kill himself. To be done. It would have been easy in a hospital, if he had use of his legs and hands—he could tamper with his morphine drip, or find some anesthetic… the options were limitless to one who knew what he was doing with medical equipment.

The one person who never manipulated him into danger, the one person who stood beside him, the one person who loved him completely for everything he was, he had thrown away. Was it worth it staying alive for revenge alone? He was never going to get better. Not completely. He would be trapped in this scarred, aching body for the rest of his life. If he died, his will left all of his money to you. Then you would be free.

But he was Doctor Frederick Chilton, damn it! He did not give up. He did not give up after Abel Gideon tortured him, or after being framed for murder and shot. Every time he fell, he held his chin up, and rose higher. This whole incident brought him notoriety, a spotlight he would take advantage of to bring him greater fame than even Hannibal Lecter himself. Forget national bestsellers, this time he was thinking movie deal. In a few years, he would be walking again, he would have a new face, lips. He would have everything back.

Except you.

He could never get back the one thing that already felt like a hole in his life, and would feel like a gaping sinkhole when he finally returned home and you were not there. His comfort. If you were coming back, you would have done it by now.

Every time he angrily demanded you leave, you would always slink off with your tail tucked, but crawl back all sweetness and forgiveness the next day. This time was different. He said so many unforgivable things. But he had to go that far, he told himself—he had to break things off.

He was so bitter, and angry. He was never the easiest man to live with, and now all of his compassion had been burned out of him. You didn’t deserve to keep running back to a cruel, bitter man out of loyalty, to be smothered inside a dark hospital when you were meant to be in the sun. He knew exactly what Chiltons could be like, and he never wanted to put you through that. If that was the nightmare he was turning into, then it was better for you to be far away, not married to it.

But, oh, to touch you one last time…

***

Another day. He thought about calling you again, if just to hear the sound of your voice. But what would be the point? You could have called him. Clearly you wanted him out of your life.

A nurse knocked tentatively on the door. Not one of his usual nurses.

“You have a visitor, Mr. Chilton. They said… they’re not sure if you want to see them?”

He perked up immediately, so eager to respond, “Of course I do!” that he didn’t bother to correct the nurse about his title. His face fell when a young black woman walked in, carefully tapping a long white stick across the ground. “Oh. You.”

She stopped in her tracks, a timid expression of guilt written on her face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here...” she stammered, turning around.

“No, no, no. Come in, come in, Reba McClane,” he pronounced her name pointedly. “I wanted to speak to you anyway.”

“You did?” She began searching her way closer to his bed.

“Naturally. For my book. An interview with the Tooth Fairy’s lover.”

Her tentative smile quickly turned into a scowl. “Freddie Lounds already offered to tell my story.”

Frederick scoffed. “Tell me you are not considering that libelous TattleCrime gossip rag. I am a distinguished, respected author—what I could do with your story is far—”

“I told her the same thing I’m telling you: I do not want my name associated with that man. My entire life is already tainted. I won’t talk about him anymore. I only came to apologize… it seemed the least I could do. You’re the only one of victims left alive to apologize to.”

“You forget to count yourself,” Frederick corrected with uncharacteristic empathy. “We are both his survivors.”

Reba’s shoulders relaxed a little at that. “I wasn’t sure you’d see it that way. A lot of people, they think I knew. Or that I must be a monster to have loved a monster like that. I can’t blame them… I don’t know what to think of myself anymore.”

“There is no accounting for taste.”

Reba and Frederick settled into a surprisingly comfortable chat. She unburdened her guilt—she thought she had sensed someone else in the room that night, and knew something was off, but didn’t call the police—and Frederick magnanimously forgave her. Dolarhyde would have killed her and slit Frederick’s throat on the spot if she tried to be a hero. He chose not to call out for help, knowing that. They talked about love, and the deep vein of anger they both shared. Perhaps it set Frederick at ease that she was blind. If she stared, it was not with any regard to his face.

Then she went to the window, to stand in the warm light streaming through the glass, and knocked over a vase of plastic flowers. He snapped at her, his voice raising with violence so out of proportion to the offense, she wasn’t sure whether to apologize or yell back. After scrambling to find to the vase on the floor, she settled on dryly calling him an asshole.

Nobody had called him out so bluntly since before he was hospitalized, and it made him smile, as best as his cheeks could manage. “You remind me of someone,” he said.

Reba pondered why his voice was so fond at the memory of someone who called him an asshole. She wondered what the flowers meant. “Was this the somebody you were hoping it was when I walked in? Who—”

“Nobody important.”

“Really? That’s not what I’m hearing.”

He sighed grumpily. Then just sighed. “You told Dolarhyde you were not so damaged that you were incapable of love. Do you still feel that way?”

“If you’re looking for relationship advice, I do not believe myself qualified to give any,” she said, reading him like braille. “But I’m not going to give up on the goodness in people. Everybody has a darkness deep down, but not everyone’s darkness is murdering families. I survived Dee, and if I can do that… I can find someone whose darkness is a little softer. Soft enough to live with. I have to believe I can still love—that he didn’t break me. I hope he didn’t break you, either.”

***

Another day. He ruined everything with you.

The first question Frederick asked when EMTs found his still-smoldering body—rasping it over and over until someone understood—was if you were safe. Had Dolarhyde gone after his family? But of all the things that the Red Dragon had taken from him, you were the one he had destroyed all on his own.

Finally, after two weeks of resisting, he could not bear it anymore. When his physical therapy session ended, he quietly, firmly, with fragile pride, asked the nurse to help him with the phone. He dialed your number, and she held the receiver to his ear as it rang.

It rang.

It went to voicemail.

Frederick leaned into the receiver as your friendly, guileless voice instructed him to leave a message. It must have been recorded before everything, back when you were so happy all the time. It had been ages since he heard you sound like that. He wondered if you would be happy and carefree again soon, without him.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba @caked-crusader @itsjustmyfantasyroom @thatesqcrush @dianilaws @permanentlydizzy @eclecticreader2020 @mrsrafaelbarba

#did someone ask for angst?? Who do I have down for angst? Come get your order!#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #Hannibal #Raúl Esparza #dr. frederick chilton #My writing

63 notes · View notes

blazehedgehog · 3 years

Note

As an Internet veteran and draw-person, I really need to ask: what anime influenced you and many online artists circa 2000s? There's a specific style from those early 2000s webcomics and fanart I'm looking for and trying to replicate, and your old art fit in that "style", in my opinion. Thank you!

It’s hard to narrow it down, but it’s also not that hard to narrow it down. Anime was a much, much smaller industry back then. The “boom” was just beginning thanks to efforts by the Scifi Channel and Cartoon Network to bring anime to television in timeslots that people would actually watch.

So here’s your crash course in casual anime history, I guess, from someone who definitely isn’t like... obsessed with anime. Or isn’t anymore, but was back then.

For me, it all kind of started with, like... Dragon Ball, and this was a show that struggled to gain any traction at first. Where I lived, it aired at 5am on Sunday mornings. If you knew a kid that watched Dragon Ball, there was a solidarity there like, “Yup, you get it.”

Then DiC got the license to Sailor Moon and started airing it in the weekday morning slot I would typically describe as “right before you catch the bus.” You’d wake up around 6am, maybe 6:15, and watch whatever was on at 6:30 while you ate breakfast. As the credits were rolling, you’d head out to catch the school bus. Sailor Moon was what I remember doing that with the most. That combined with Dragon Ball formed my foundational interest in anime.

Around this time (1995, 1996) you were starting to see anime start to seep in to the mainstream elsewhere. There was a commercial I remember for, like, an anthology of anime classics like Akira...

youtube

And, y’know, when you’re like, 14 or 15 and you see a commercial like this -- cartoons! With blood! And nudity! It’s like, holy crap. Most of the classics we know today (Akira, Ghost in the Shell) were only really available via mail order like this back then.

More shows started getting localized for TV, too, like Ronin Warriors was one a lot of my friends got in to. It was considered “The Manly Sailor Moon.” And then there was, of course, Samurai Pizza Cats. Eventually Saban stopped dubbing Dragon Ball altogether and moved straight over to Dragon Ball Z, and that gained enough popularity that I think it eventually shook it out of its Sunday Morning time slot to somewhere a little more visible by general audiences.

Coming in to 1997 and 1998, anime was really starting to gain some momentum. The Scifi Channel had begin doing their “Saturday Anime” show, which aired at 3am every Friday Night/Saturday Morning. They probably figured it was one of the only ways they could get away with showing violent cartoons.

youtube

For me, this was where I got my first “real” taste of anime. They had a stable of about 5 or 10 movies and OVAs they’d run. Venus Wars, Vampire Hunter D, Project A-KO, Robot Carnival, Tenchi Muyo In Love (my favorite), Project L.I.L.Y. Cat, Beautiful Dreamer, Galaxy Express 999, Fatal Fury The Motion Picture, Record of Lodoss War, Dominion Tank Police, Roujin-Z, Demon City Shinjiku, Gall Force...

That felt like the bandaid got ripped off. Suddenly we were all buzzing about anime. Hey, have you heard about this movie called Ninja Scroll? There’s hardcore sex in it! No American movie, live action or not, could ever match the body horror of Akira! Hey, does anyone remember Robotech from the 80′s? That was actually anime, too! Wow!

Cartoon Network was smart enough to take notice and snatched up the rights to air Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z at reasonable, non-morning hours, and they dug out Voltron and put together a simple block of anime. I don’t even think it necessarily had a name, it was just an hour or maybe 90 minutes of anime a day, and it exploded. Right place, right time. So Cartoon Network expanded.

youtube

They added more classic anime, and some shows that were similar in tone, and called it Toonami. Robotech, Ronin Warriors, The Real Adventures of Johnny Quest, Reboot, Thundercats...

And this became the place to watch anime. Which is when we enter the era you’re asking about, the early 2000′s. This is where it starts to feel like a little too much to cover, because it came hot, heavy, and fast. There was a thirst for anime that was hard to quench because production companies were small and choosy about what they’d dub, but at the same time, a sort of gold rush was starting.

When I think of peak, classic-era Toonami, the stuff that really influenced me artistically, it was shows like Outlaw Star, Ruroni Kenshi, and Gundam Wing. I’m sure I’d also have friends speak highly of Big-O, G-Gundam, and Yu Yu Hakusho, three shows I never really got in to.

Eventually, Cartoon Network (and Williams Street, then called Ghost Planet Industries) began to realize that there was a growing library of anime they couldn’t show in the afternoon because it was too intense for the kids. There was also an undoubtedly vocal contingent of anime fans who were frustrated when their favorite shows had to be edited for broadcast. This gave birth to Toonami: The Midnight Run, the precursor to what would eventually become Adult Swim. The Midnight Run became home to uncut (or simply less-cut) episodes of afternoon shows that restored blood, alcoholic references, and the few cases of more extreme violence.

Midnight Run started getting exclusive shows, too. When I think about what Midnight Run (and later Adult Swim) was known for, it was shows like Cowboy Bebop, FLCL, and again, though it wasn’t really something I saw a ton of, Paranoia Agent.

Other networks did try to cash in on the anime craze. I think Tech TV/G4 tried to get in on things with Serial Experiments Lain and a few other shows, but to be honest, it never hit as hard as Toonami did. Then there was obviously the work of guys like 4KIDS, with the Pokemon, Yu-Gi-Oh and Digimon shows on Saturday Morning, but those felt noticeably different in vibe and in tone (something that only got more pronounced when Kids WB started a Saturday Morning Toonami block that was even more aggressively sanitized than what could be shown on Cartoon Network).

Beyond broadcast TV, the stuff I remember being popular among my circle of friends were things like Tenchi Universe, Ranma 1/2, Slayers, Saber Marionette, and.... like, Di Gi Charat and Chobits? This was probably right around the era of Azumanga Daioh, too.

Unfortunately, much past 2003 or 2004 is where I started falling off of anime. The feeling of it being “new” and “special” was starting to wear off, and there was enough coming out that the standard of quality was beginning to drop. Whereas small studios like ADV and Manga Corps. could only afford to bring out the best of the best, we were starting to get junk like Duel Masters, Rozen Maiden and Tenchi Muyo GXP.

I remember friends speaking highly of shows like Bleach (heh), .hack, Full Metal Panic, Midori Days, Tenjo Tenge, Yakitate Japan, Eureka Seven, and Air Gear, but I can’t tell you anything about them, personally.

Either way, I’m sure I’ve given you more than enough to chew on.

#questions #anime #toonami #scifi channel #syfy #4kids #kids wb #foxbox #saturday anime #Anonymous

30 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1131

survey by lilprincess

Approx. Time you began this survey: 6:46 on a Wednesday evening.

Describe your mood right now: Erm, a bit exhausted because I just ended a work shift; but content for the same reason. Right now I’m simply looking forward to dinner and crashing on the couch or my bed, wherever I feel like sleeping tonight.

Spell your first name without vowels: Rbn. Let’s just also remove y for this one.

Age you will be on your next birthday: 23.

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Do you believe what your horoscope says about your sign? I do not believe in astrology whatsoever.

What state/region do you live in? Somewhere in the Philippines somewhere close to Metro Manila.

Height: Like 5′1″ ish. I had a massive growth spurt in 4th grade that also ended in 4th grade, which will always be a funny story to tell people lmao. I went from being placed at the back of the class line to the front really quickly.

Do you smoke? Super occasionally. My last cigarette was like...all the way back in February last year. It was easier to hide the smell around my family before, but because my parents and siblings have mostly been staying at home in the last year it would be so easy to weed out the smell. I never feel like smoking anyway since I vape, so there’s been no reason to seek it out.

Do you drink? Yeah, sometimes socially and sometimes on my own if I wanna unwind and feel a lil buzz come through.

What's your ethnic background? Southeast Asian, specifically Filipino.

What's your religious background? Technically my ~background~ would be Catholic since I was born and baptized in that faith, but I’ve long let go of this. Excluding one very brief period in high school, religion was something I never held much belief and faith in, even if I've been taken to literally every Sunday mass for the last 23 years and even if I was enrolled in Catholic school from preschool to high school.

What's your natural hair color? Black.

What;s your natural eye color? Dark brown, almost black.

Do you have any bad habits you want to break? I do overtime work a lot but used to seldom file it on our company shift log sheet because I get shy that they must think I’m doing it just to be paid more, lol. I’m starting to file them every time I do OT though because fuck it, pay me.

Name a few of your positive habits. I like that I always find a way to meet deadlines. I like that I’m selfless, even though some would see it as a flaw. I’d rather do too much than say I never did anything at all.

Have you ever lived in a foreign country? No, the most I’ve done was travel to one for a week.

Did you vote in the Nov. 6 2012 presidential election? No because I am not American -___- The last election that took place before I was eligible was in 2010, and had I been able to vote then, I would’ve given mine to Gibo Teodoro, who I believe was the most qualified at the time.

Are you even eligible to vote? Yeah, I’ve been for the last 5 years. I’ve voted twice - once for the presidential elections back in 2016, and the next was for the senatorial elections in 2019.

Are you right handed or left handed? Right-handed.

When you write, is your penmanship usually neat or do you tend to scribble? It starts off neat for the most part, but it gradually gets messy and becomes more like a scribble if we’re talking about writing several essays in one sitting, which was usually the case in my exams in college.

Have you ever experienced an accident? (of any type): Sure, I’ve been in car accidents before. I’ve also been shocked once.

Do you have/want children? They would be nice to have, yeah.

Are you environmentally conscious? For the most part, yeah. But there are some things that can’t be helped, like me driving. Unless the government does something about the shitty public transport system that we have and have had for decades, I refuse to take it.

What's your favorite mode of transportation? Like I said, my own car. If I’m traveling, by plane.

Do you prefer 80's - 90's music compared to today's music? Eh, not at all. I prefer music produced these days.

Are you more of an introvert (quiet/shy), or extrovert (social butterfly)? I’ve been more of an extrovert in the last few years but I will always be shy at first upon meeting new people, like that will never change. I warm up a lot quickly now, though.

What's your favorite emoticon? :)

Do you miss the good old days of hand-written letters? I caught the super super super last part of this era, so I didn’t even get to experience it. I know snail mail was still kind of a thing when I was a kid, but at the same time that was happening my mom was also already using email to keep in touch with my dad, so.

Nowadays, though, when I do write letters to loved ones, I will still prefer to make handwritten ones, especially for a significant other or best friend. I don’t think I’ve ever sent out a computerized long letter.

Do you enjoy receiving or giving more? Giving, but it’s nice to be treated too sometimes.

Are you good at keeping secrets? Sure.

Do you take or give advice more often? I don’t usually get into situations wherein I’d have to do either, but I think I’ve been asking for advice more, especially over the last few months.

Do you have your driver's license? “I got my driver’s license last week, just like we always talked about...” Haha this question made me sing a bit. Anyway, yeah, I got it shortly after I turned 18 since I needed to quickly learn before college started.

Would you rather be poor & happy or rich but miserable? Rich but miserable. Soz but I’d solve 4854983594857 of my problems if I never had to worry about money.

Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? Never.

Have you ever blocked someone on Facebook? Probably not blocked, but I’ve unfollowed some current Facebook friends and unfriended others entirely.

Do you think recreational marijuana should be nationally legalized? Idk much about the topic since it’s taboo enough where I live, but sure, I guess?I haven’t heard one bad word about the effects of marijuana.

Describe your perfect first date. I’ve never really had a first date, but I imagine an ideal one would be pretty lowkey, just a stroll around a nice city and maybe have fancyish dinner somewhere.

Have you ever been high? Nope.

Have you ever watched a NC-17 rated film? Sure. A good handful of Kubrick films pass for NC-17, right? I’d be surprised if they weren’t, lol. I’ve been scarred by some of them for sure.

If you ever become reincarnated as an animal, what would you want it to be? A dog.

Do you remember where you were/what you were doing on September 11, 2001? No; I was 2 years old. I did ask my parents where they were in those moments, and my mom understandably missed most of it since the entire thing unfolded in the late evening in the Philippines. The only thing she can recall was being insanely worried for my dad, who had just started to work in the US back then.

Do you ever wish you were of a different nationality/religion? Yeah, to a certain extent, just because the political and socioeconomic situation here is very messy and it doesn’t really give us the nicest reputation in front of the world. I’m proud of my Filipino culture and heritage though.

Are you more of a junk food addict or health nut? Health nut is the last thing anyone should be calling me. But I’m not so much a junk food addict either? I do like spoiling myself with food, but I still monitor my intake.

Do you believe Antarctica should be considered the 7th world continent? Isn’t it already though?? We’ve always been taught there were 7 continents and Antarctica is one of them lol.

Describe your own sense of humor in 1 word: Gen-Z, if that counts as one word.

Have you ever quoted the Bible (or any other Holy Book)? If I ever did it was probably meant to be sarcasm.

Have you ever completed a Sudoku puzzle? No. Never figured out how to play it either.

Would you rather be a nuclear physicist or marine biologist? Marine biologist. That’s one step closer to one of my loves, biology. Plus I was never any good with physics, so.

Do you have a deep, dark secret you're hiding from every one? I guess.

Would you rather be able to soar like an eagle or swim like a dolphin? I’d make my childhood self happy and go with flight.

If you wanted to learn a foreign language, what would it be? Korean so I can finally stop reading subs, hahah.

Are you bi-curious? No.

Did you watch the Disney Channel or Nickelodeon more as a kid? The Nickelodeon cartoons were far more interesting to me. I think I only got into Disney when I got a little bit older, once I was able to appreciate the more mature content in shows like The Suite Life, That’s So Raven, etc. But for the most part our TV was always tuned into Nick Jr., Spongebob, Jimmy Neutron and the other Nick shows.

Name 5 films that were made the year you were born: American History X (great watch), The Truman Show, Mulan, La Vita e Bella if I’m not mistaken (one of my faves, no matter how gut-wrenching it is), and Shakespeare in Love.

Did you have a lot of friends in high school? Yes, eventually I did.

Do you rely more on the newspaper, Internet or TV as your news source? Social media these days since I find that online writers are far more discerning in their reporting than TV anchors, who stay neutral at best.

True or false: Bigger is better. Very vaguely put, but not always, I guess.

Do you think religion is the primary cause of war? No? There’ve been plenty other reasons for war.

What's your favorite pizza topping? ...Cheese.

Think of your wardrobe. What color do you wear the most? It’s still black, I think.

Have you ever been to a planetarium? Just once, on a middle school field trip. I’d love to come back, though.

Do you feel like you connect more with animals or other people? I don’t get to be with animals a lot other than my dogs, so I’ll go with people.

Do you feel like sometimes you have to lie in order to protect yourself? Wow so dramatically put haha but yeah, I suppose it does feel that way sometimes.

How often do you exercise? Literally never. I’ve stopped working out this year since I didn’t see the point, and I’ve stopped feeling like I had to ‘get back’ at my ex just by getting a more toned figure. I’m totally at peace with how my body looks, plus I never want to give up on my favorite foods and snacks lol so there’s that.

Can you swear in a different language? Putangina mong bobo kang gago ka. That’s three for ya.

Do you think teachers/doctors deserve to get paid more than pro athletes? Everyone deserves to be paid fairly to the point that no comparison should be necessary, period.

From a scale of 1- 5, you would rate this survey: Erm, a 4.5. I had to delete some questions I didn’t feel comfortable answering or that I found a little meh, but the rest I fairly enjoyed.

Do you think most of these questions were more original or more ordinary? It’s a bit in between.

Approx. time you completed this survey: Hahahahah 10:38 PM. I took a million breaks.

#survey #surveys

7 notes · View notes

recommendedlisten · 3 years

Text

Song Review: Snail Mail - “Valentine”

Snail Mail’s 2018 debut full-length Lush was an inward eye view into adulting on the part of then-18-year-old songwriter Lindsey Jordan. The malaise realized with how much life as a grown-up sucks alongside going through the heat and cold waves of relationships was presented through a gen Z lens of indie rock traditionalism with Jordan’s own pen being all the more wiser with most peers her age. In the time since, Jordan has probably lived a life more worn than them as well, having experienced a rise in fame and the ensuing collision with it that led her to retreating into a rehab facility where she began to form her upcoming sophomore follow-up Valentine.

With its lead single and title track, Jordan bares the markings of the present self: skeptical in her outlook, more tattered in her sung delivery, as evidenced by her smokier, lower register aged by years, and a palpable trepidation in where her emotions pick on her fret as she grapples with finding her own escape in this world -- especially that of a lover leaving you out of theirs. “So why’d you wanna erase me, darling Valentine?,” she charges into the chorus, keys buzzing through the outburst, recalling the spiraling energy of Tegan and Sara’s “The Con”. “You’ll always know where to find me when you change your mind.” The relational growing pains are more complicated than ever, but this time around, she sounds ready for whatever's coming.

Valentine by Snail Mail

Snail Mail’s Valentine will be released November 5th on Matador Records.

#song reviews #snail mail #matador records

1 note · View note

jisvnq · 3 years

Note

falling💀for💃🏾a🚶🏽‍♀️stranger👤good👍🏽gracious😫I👁might👴even🤰🏽fly✈️out🕳to🤷‍♀️Vegas💒 - 🥺 anon

these song things again 💀💀 idk if i should respond to them or how i should respond to them or anything 💀💀 they're so cute though ajdjssbs

#buzz buzz mail for z #🥺 anon

4 notes · View notes

svnqts · 4 years

Note

I couldn’t get the asks to open on your other account so I came here but HAPPY BIRTHDAY Z

sjsdksj what 💀 but anyways THANK YOU TRE AAAAAAA

lots of love and i hope you’re doing good today 💞💟💖💕💗💓💝💘💘💘💝💓💗💕💖💟💞

#buzz buzz mail for z #tre 🔥🥰#mwah mwah <3

0 notes

dreamwritesimagines · 5 years

Text

Once A Year 13 - Before The Wave Hits [Billy Russo x Reader]

A.N: Your comments and messages make my day, please keep them coming! <3 Love you! <3

Summary: Some people are dangerous together.

Characters: Billy Russo x Reader, Frank Castle x Karen Page

Warning: Explicit language, abuse, violence, dysfunctional relationships, cheating. As usual, I don’t condone any of the messed up stuff happening on the show or in this story.

Word Count: 2837

Due to the linking issue, the previous chapters are on my masterlist<3

This was way too silent, way too….calm. Especially for Billy.

Even through the haze of sleep, you could tell he was lying awake right next to you. Not moving, not speaking anything, and he stayed like that until the fogginess of sleep cleared out. You frowned slightly, your hand shooting up to rub at your eyes and you turned your head to see him watching the ceiling.

“Hey,” you whispered, stretching out, “How long have you been awake?”

“Didn’t sleep.” Billy croaked out, and you closed your eyes for a moment, heaving a deep sigh.

You knew him way too well to not know what he was thinking about.

“Hey,” you propped your head up on your fist, “Don’t go there.”

“Go where?”

“You know where.” You raised your hand so that you could run your nails through his short, stubbly hair. “There’s nothing you could’ve done, Billy.”

“There are many things I could’ve done.” He mumbled, eyes still fixated on the ceiling and your hand slipped so that you could cup his cheek to make him turn his gaze to you.

“Don’t.” You repeated, “For me, okay? I called you after everything was over. No one could have stopped it, it was already over by the time-“

“I should’ve been there from the beginning.” Billy shook his head, “You never should’ve had to cross paths with a scumbag like that. Ever.”

You shook your head and reached out to place a small kiss to his lips, “Oh don’t worry,” you said, “He will pay for crossing paths with me.”

Billy shot you a forced smile, then brushed your hair off your face,

“I swear to you,” he said, “Never again.”

“I have plans from A to Z, there’s no way I’ll be in that situation again,” you said, “All my accounts are separated, I’ve made investments as well, I’ll be just fine.”

“Not just that.” He swallowed thickly, “Nobody hurts you in any way again.”

“I know,” you nodded, “I’m making sure of that, remember?”

He frowned for a moment, “Speaking of,” he said, “How much do you want to hurt him?”

“How much can I?”

He huffed out a laugh, “Limit doesn’t exist babe, as much as you want.”

“Without killing him though.”

Billy’s frown deepened, “What do you mean without killing him?” he asked, “You’re insane if you think he’s going to be walking around after what he did to you.”

“No, I-“ you shook your head, “I mean, can I hurt him a lot before I kill him?”

“Yeah. Or I can do that for you.”

“No, it’ll be me.”

He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, your phone started buzzing on the nightstand and you groaned, then sat up in the bed, pulling the sheets with you as you answered the phone and pulled your knees to your chest.

“Hi mom.”

“Hi honey, could you check your email yet?”

“No, I just woke up,” You shot Billy a look as he traced your spine with his fingertips, “What email?”

“You just woke up?” your mother said, “Honey, it’s ten in the morning, why aren’t you at the gallery?”

“It’s ten!?” You grabbed Billy’s arm to check his wristwatch, then groaned, “Damn it, I overslept.”

“Are you sick or something?”

“Stop that!” You hissed at Billy who just grinned at you, then pulled his hand back before you could swat it off.

“I’m sorry?”

“No, not you mom, I’m talking to my-uh- my mail. It doesn’t open, what is it?”

“I found these really beautiful veils for your wedding dress.”

You rolled your eyes, “Mom, what did we talk about?”

“I know, I know, we said it’s for your second wedding-“

“We said no such thing.”

“But!” she continued as if she didn’t hear you, “Hear me out. Check those three, and let me know okay?”

You pushed Billy’s hand again, making him chuckle and gesturing surrender,

“Yeah- uh huh.”

“Great. Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“No I just overslept, that’s all,” you narrowed your eyes at Billy, who only raised his brows. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Sure, make sure to check them!” she chirped and hung up, and you pushed at Billy.

“Your mom didn’t change at all huh?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Just like you Skittles. Does she still hate me?”

“She doesn’t know you Bill.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, does she still hate me even if she doesn’t know me?”

“You never should have beaten up my boyfriend when I was in high school.” You said, “If anything, that’s your fault.”

“He was a dick, you have terrible taste in men.”

You scoffed a laugh, and motioned at him, “Yeah. Case and point.”

“Hey!”

“You said it, not me,” you pushed at him as you grabbed your satin robe and put it on, “I need to take a shower, and run to the gallery-“

“Or you could call in sick.”

You looked over your shoulder, then turned around, “I need to work.”

“Not really. You own the place, and you’re loaded.”

“There’s a new exhibition coming.” You said, and squealed when he pulled you back to bed, “Bill!”

“You know they won’t set that place on fire if you don’t show up one day?”

You clicked your tongue, “Maybe not, but I’m thinking about an early retirement.”

“Right,” Billy let out a laugh, but then saw the look on your face and pulled back slightly.

“Skits?”

“Yes?”

“What’s the plan?”

You raised your brows and smiled at him sweetly, “What plan?”

“For afterwards,” he said, “After you kill Aldrich. What’s the plan?”

“What makes you think there’s a plan?” your grin widened, “Maybe I’m just spontaneous.”

“Yeah, and I know you’re too smart for that.” He wrapped a lock of your hair around his finger, “What’s the plan babe?”

You took a deep breath and dragged your nails on the soft, silk sheets.

“Tahiti.” You said, making him stare at you, “Away from here. Away from my mom, and my dad, and everyone and their expectations. I will be... me. Free to be me.”

He blinked in silence, “What about me?”

You bit on your lip and shrugged, “What makes you think I’d be me without you?” you asked him, then took a deep breath, “That is if- if you’ll still have me. After all that. After murder.”

He tilted your head up to kiss your lips, then smiled at you,

“Us against the world Skittles. No matter what.”

You entwined your fingers with his, then scrunched up your face, “You know we’ve got issues right? This is not normal?”

“Who cares?”

“I feel like one of us should,” you tilted your head, then giggled and stood up, “So I’m getting into shower, and I’m leaving the door open. You know. Just in case you got any ideas.”

By the time you got to the gallery, it was already noon and Rose looked up when she saw you,

“Hey, I thought you weren’t coming today.” She said, “What happened?”

“Overslept.” You smiled at her, “Anything?”

“Your mom left like three messages, I thought you said no veil for the wedding dress.”

“I did,” you whined “Anyway, I’ll deal with her. What else?”

“There’s a new potential buyer, he reached out in the morning,” Rose said, “He wants to talk to you about this new exhibition we’re planning, he might be interested in buying all of them.”

You gawked at her “All of the paintings?”

“Yes. Sort of an intense guy to be honest with you, but he looks like he knows what he’s talking about, he said- oh I think this might be him.” Rose pointed over your shoulder and you turned your head, then your blood ran cold in your veins when you saw the bodyguards. The panic spread through you as Aldrich walked inside the gallery, then stopped in front of a painting, looking at it.

“Rose,” you said through frozen lips, “Stay here.”

“Shouldn’t I-?”

“No. Do not leave here.” Your voice was like a whip as you took a deep, shaky breath.

You were fine. You were here, you were safe, there was nothing he could do to you, not anymore.

You rolled your shoulders back, then walked to him on high heels until you reached him, then you had to cross your arms so that you wouldn’t reach out to strangle him.

Calm. Stay calm.

“Get the fuck out of my gallery.” You said, fixing your gaze on the painting and he smiled slightly.

“That’s no way to talk to your new investor.”

“You’re not buying shit from me.” You said, “I’d rather set all of this on fire.”

He tsk tsked, “Here I thought we were alike.”

“I’m nothing like you.”

“Aren’t you though?” he asked “I gotta admit, yeah, sometimes I can lose control, but…”

You could hear your fast heartbeat in your ears, “Is that what you call it?” You asked slowly, “You’re a monster, that’s what you are.”

“And what are you, Y/N?” he asked you, “Fine. Let’s call me a monster.”

“You tied me to a bed and tortured me, Aldrich. All while threatening to-“ you stopped yourself, “That’s what you call yourself?”

“Yes. But what do we call you?”

“Survivor.”

“Not just that,” he shook his head, “What, did you spend a day? A week, before you tracked down my nephew and flew to Italy to make him fall in love with you? How did that planning go, I wonder.”

“Oh you will listen to the whole story at the wedding, no worries.”

“You know he loves you, right?”

You could feel your stomach make a flip, and scoffed,

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

To that, he raised his brows and turned to look at you better, “See? Our time together benefitted both of us. I know how it feels to actually have that control and you don’t beg anymore. Win win.”

You turned your gaze to him, “Oh don’t you worry Aldrich, I’ll make sure to return the favor.”

He tilted his head, as if trying to see whether you were bluffing or not, but you kept your gaze on him, not looking away. He clicked his tongue,

“Damn,” he said lowly, “There’s nothing there anymore, is there? All this beauty, and not one ounce of mercy. You’re cold as fucking ice.”

You smiled at him, by some miracle you managed to look completely calm even if all you wanted was to run back to your office and lock yourself there.

“Maybe I will practice on your nephew before I get to you, who knows?” you wondered out loud, “I assume you can find the door on your way out. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

Aldrich stared at you for a couple of seconds, then extended his hand, which you just eyed coldly and kept your arms crossed. He chuckled, then walked out of the gallery, with his bodyguards following him suit. You let out a breath, almost losing your balance as the room spun around you, but you managed to grab your phone and walk to the bathroom.

The gasp caught on your throat as soon as you closed the door behind you and leaned back to it.

“It’s okay,” you said out loud, “It’s fine, you’re fine, pull yourself together.”

You could feel the tears making their way to your eyes and you shut your eyes for a moment before you found the contact and took the phone to your ear.

“Hi Skits,” Billy’s voice reached you when he answered the phone, “Did you decide to skip work?”

You took a deep breath and wetted your lips, “I just wanted to hear your voice,” you managed to say and he paused for a moment.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, “What’s happening?”

“Stress.” You lied through your teeth, “I- um- this new exhibition is a mess, and I- I don’t know what to do.”

“Give me five minutes-“ there was some shuffling on the other line which sounded a lot like someone pushing a chair, and a muffled voice, “Ten minutes, and I’ll be on my way.”

“No no,” you shook your head, “No, I just wanted to- talk. That’s all. You don’t have to come, are you with your guys?”

“Not really, I can tell you later on.”

“Can we-“ you cleared your throat, “Can you come by my place tonight? Or can we maybe go outside? Or something?”

“Yeah sure,” he said quickly, “Of course. How about I wine and dine you hm?” you heard him closing a door, “Then we can go back to my place.”

“No, mine.”

“No one will care if you make noise at my place babe,”

You found yourself smiling, “Your bed is uncomfortable,” you said and Billy chuckled,

“I’m sure I can find alternatives if you don’t like the bed.”

You wiped at your eyes and giggled, “I’ll see you tonight, Russo.” You managed to say, “Be careful.”

With that, you hung up, and fixed your make up, then let out a breath and returned to your office.

Billy got to your apartment about an hour after you reached there, and when he rang the doorbell, you were lying on the couch, staring into space. A terrible pain was slowly making its way to your head, and you massaged your temples, then got up from the couch and opened the door for him.

“Hey,”

“Hi babe,” he pecked you on the lips, then pulled back to tilt your head, looking at your face, “Tough day?”

“You have no idea.” you let yourself relax in his embrace, then rested your forehead on his chest, “My head hurts, painkillers don’t help.”

“Wow, I didn’t think we’d reach the not tonight, I have headache phase this soon.”

You pushed him slightly, letting out a laugh, “You’re terrible.” You said, then let out a squeal when he lifted you off the ground to press a kiss on your forehead before putting you down.

“Do you wanna stay in then?”

You thought for a moment as you walked to the living room, then grabbed the remote to turn the TV on, “Nah, maybe fresh air will help,” you said as you changed the channels, then lowered the remote when you saw the breaking news. Billy wrapped his arms around you, so that your back could rest against his chest while he nuzzled into your neck, making you drag your fingernails through his hair absentmindedly.

“Police officer Jack Richardson’s body was found an hour ago, and the authorities suspect of gang relations concerning his death. Richardson has worked in police force for over twelve years, and was chosen to be the….”

You tried to remember why the name sounded familiar, but as soon as his picture appeared on the screen, your jaw dropped.

“And you say it was Aldrich Killian?”

You wiped your nose, then nodded, staring at the police officer, “Yes sir.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“Because we’ve found alcohol in your blood.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, “He put something into my drink,” you muttered, “Did- did that not come up in blood test?”

“Not really.” His gaze was stable on you, “Has anyone seen you with him?”

“I- I don’t know,” you took a shaky breath, all you wanted was Billy to arrive already, so that you could get out of here, to somewhere safe. Somewhere away from here.

“I’m going to be honest with you, okay? If you want to press charges, you might find it a little difficult.”

You blinked back the tears and wiped your nose again, “Why?”

“There is not enough evidence,” he said, “And Aldrich Killian is a very powerful man, as you know. What did you say your name was?”

That was the police officer.

How-

Billy.

Of course it was Billy. You had told him you would end Aldrich, that you would hurt him, but you had never said anything about anyone else who was involved in this.

“Was he scared?” you asked slowly and Billy rested his chin on your shoulder, taking a look at the screen.

“He begged,” he said, “Then cried. Then begged some more.”

You nodded, still staring at the picture of the police officer. Even if you tried your hardest to find any kind of pity, any sympathy, anything at all, you came out empty.

What was it that Aldrich had said? Not an ounce of mercy, cold as ice.

You should’ve said something. Anything. How it was wrong, how you had never asked him to do such a thing, how it could never happen again-

And yet, the words that left your lips were completely different.

“Good.” You said, and felt a smile warm your face as you looked up at him, “How does wine sound?”

“Sounds fine to me.”

You nodded, before you turned around to kiss him, then pulled back,

“Let me change my clothes,” you told him as you walked to your bedroom, “Then we can leave.”

Special thanks to: @theskytraveler @iblogabout-stuff @marauderskeeper @asongofmarvelanddc @mellxander1993 @papercloudx @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @superwolfchild-fan @lostkizzy @anxietysucks @finnickfoxes @luminex3 @rhabakoli @fictionalthrill @redrxbel @ilkaeliseb @rpo03 @pancakefancake @flowers-in-your-hayr@m00nlightdelights @maelloute @we-are-all-wild-things @evilturtlemonkey @xinyourdreamsx @demoncrypt1066 @go-crybaby @i-am-always-famished @delicatelilyflower @mamaraptor @ms-baekhyun @audreychaz @rmwest9 @writeyourmindaway @becs-bunker @margot-black @bubbleself @flaboyance @binbonsadoration @propertyofpoeandbucky @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lisa-stilinski @denimandcabernet @tofadavidson @seriouslynogood @traeumerinwitzhelden @mixed-imagination @broken-pieces@lettersofwrittencollective @binbons-is-theloml @thinemineours @cutie-bug @random-quartz and lovely anons! <3 You’re awesome!

#billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo imagines #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo x reader #marvel

426 notes · View notes

livingthescilife · 4 years

Text

325 - Arch: -osaurs and -eology

00:00:00 - First up, we discuss the evolution of thalattoscuhians, or crocodilians who evolved to live life in the seas, based on CAT scans of their skulls and what that means for their convergent evolution with whales.

00:20:39 - Crocs have returned to the drink and so have we. It’s an older joke, but it checks out. Patrick has what feels like an inappropriately named Goram IPA from Butcombe Brewing Co. Following by Ryan’s double buzz-inducing PBR Hard Coffee. And finishing out with Joe’s homemade mocha latte.

00:26:48 - Based on his recent reading about cities discovered in the Honduran rain forest, Patrick stumbled across a story that made him wonder: Did the Mayan culture make it to Georgia? One researcher claims yes, others claim no. An excellent case study regarding the sort of side of science ensues.

00:43:49 - PaleoPOWs are a lot like debates in science; people get fired up, but the stakes are kind of low. Joe fields a comment from someone who identifies as Angry on Podbean who left a comment on episode 316 regarding our reenactment of the Wishbone Pitch Meeting. Patrick has an e-mail from Dylan S. about the book Proof by Adam Rogers, which may have helped Patrick and Ryan out on a recent episode. Finally, Ryan compels the Paleopals to come up with a BSso thesis for Patreon supporter Diego Z., who we know is kind. In several moments of brilliance, they derive the study: Crocodile Tiers: Potential Inclusion of Archosaurian Fossil Remains in Mayan Farming Sites from San Diego? Thanks, Diego!

More cool rewards await you if you decide to support us on our Patreon!

Audio Production by Rob Heath Music credit: Dance of Felt - Blue Dot Sessions

Check out this episode!

1 note · View note

tjkiahgb · 5 years

Text

Episode Recap: 3.13, “Mount Rushmore or Less”

Remember how the last episode ended? When Jonah and Amber were making out in the park? Good, because we’re picking up from right where we left off.

The GHC react in even more shock to seeing the two kiss. Andi tells everyone to act natural, so Cyrus takes off his shoe and throws it into the lake. Buffy vetoes that idea and calls Jonah over to get answers.

Andi’s like, did she have to do that?

But, in fairness, you told everyone to act natural and confrontation is super natural for Buffy.

Jonah comes running over and they start grilling him: what happened with Libby? What’s this with Amber? Are you a two-timing son of a gun?

Jonah explains he’s not being a jerk and that Libby broke up with him a couple days ago.

They press him on already getting back together with Amber, but I don’t see a ring on his finger. Let the boy live.

Cyrus thinks it’s possible their relationship could work this time, as Amber has come a long way. Buffy thinks this means it’s only a matter of time until the Jonah cycle returns to Andi.

Andi is less than thrilled about that.

At The Spoon, Cyrus draws stuff on napkins and asks the others if it’s something.

God, it’s so weird that he would draw a picture of my mother screaming at me that I’m wasting my life.

And then following it up with a picture of my father telling me he’ll never get me a puppy because I’ll never be responsible enough for one? This is too strange!

Andi’s phone buzzes and she checks it.

Metcalf has announced Costume Day is in two days time.

We’re all in agreement Metcalf doing this on short notice is some kind of social experiment, right? Designed to drive the students to madness, yes? Okay, good.

Andi wants to know who can plan a costume in two days? I mean, other than most people, who would probably just go to the store and buy one or make something simple. You really don’t need that much time unless you’re, I don’t know, doing some kind of big, multi-person production involving sheets and face paint? But why put yourself through that?

Jonah already knows what he’s doing.

That sounds lame. Who’d even be interested in such a thing? And it’s really not going to work unless he can get Zachary Levi to come in and be the second part of that costume and there’s no way you’re getting Z-Leeves on that short of notice. He was Chuck for God’s sake. He’s got better stuff to do!

Andi suddenly realizes she already knows what they’re going to be for Costume Day: Mount Rushmore.

She notes that they already have the heads, which is really an important first step for any costume: having a head.

The gang seems less than thrilled but Andi says it’ll get them a two-page spread in the yearbook and that, more importantly, for the rest of their lives, whenever anyone asks them what their best costume was, they’ll be able to say Mount Rushmore.

I feel like she might be severely overestimating how many times people get asked that question in their lifetime. I’ve only been asked it like three or four times at various job interviews. And guess what? I also said Mount Rushmore even though I never actually did it. It’s called lying. Look into it.

Cyrus tries his picture thing one more time.

My God, it’s a vivid recreation of the time I fell into a well when I was twelve and was trapped there alone for three days. I don’t know how he’s doing this.

Buffy goes to find Marty. Marty has spent his time away changing his hairstyle and becoming an amateur rapper.

Buffy calls him on it but he says he’s talking the same way he always has, it’s just been a while and when you’re away from someone for a while, you forget they say things like “Yo!” It’s like they say, absence makes the heart forget how people talk.

Either way, Marty is glad Buffy called. Buffy explains she missed him and the fun they used to have. Marty lets her know he has a girlfriend now. Buffy says she’s happy for him.

They decide they can be friends again now that the pressure of a relationship is off the table because Marty has a girrrrlfriend.

Marty lets Buffy know, though, that she’s just a girlfriend, not a girrrlfriend, so it probably won’t last.

Over at the park, Kira shows up at the basketball courts and finds TJ. She asks him if there’s a chance she could try out for the boys’ basketball team. He tells her there’s a girls’ team now and also, honestly, there’s a whole backstory here and if I just let you onto the boys’ team, it would probably be a thing.

Cyrus shows up.

TJ introduces him to Kira, who remembers him. She’s like, you’re Buffy’s friend, right? And Cyrus is like, yeah. And then Kira gets a crazy look in her eyes.

Which Cyrus rightly reads as a reason to exit from the situation.

He and TJ head off. Kira watches them leave and responds with a look that seems to say, “I smell gayness.”

TJ asks Cyrus what he’s doing for Costume Day. Cyrus says TJ doesn’t strike him as a Costume Day kinda guy but TJ tells him he has layers.

Like an onion.

TJ pitches Cyrus on his idea. One person: dressed for summer. The other: dressed as salt. You know: somersault. Like that thing TJ taught Cyrus to do a while back that meant so much to him that he remembered it many months later and wanted to do an entire costume dedicated to it because it was a little thing that they shared. I’m fine. I’m totally fine.

They agree that TJ will be somer, Cyrus will be sault.

Meanwhile, over in another part of the park, Amber prances around in front of her camera, trying to get a good candid shot.

I feel like we’re getting a little window into everyone’s lives here. It’s a strange display.

Andi shows up. Amber complains about how hard it is to seem natural so she asks Andi to snap some shots. Andi’s like, sure, but the cost is I’m going to ask you about Jonah. Amber explains they were spending all this time together and that they realized they might like each other, again. Andi says it’s okay, that she thinks that’s nice.

Then she aims the camera at Amber’s like, midsection?

She takes some pics and she’s like, I think we got the shot.

That’s pretty impressive camera work for lazily pointing camera nowhere in particular.

Andi heads home and starts digging through Bex’s closet looking for a sheet. Bex comes running over to help but it’s too late. Andi violently throws all of Bex’s wedding invites to the floor.

I mean, I know it wasn’t on purpose, but that was way too aggressive a search Andi was doing in that closet. This was bound to happen.

Bex offers to explain. She says she was going to mail them but she couldn’t. They’re just too much. I mean, for God’s sake, they’re vellum!

Of course, it’s not the vellum, it’s what the vellum represents: that this is all happening, and soon. And that’s too much for Bex. Bowie doesn’t know yet, but Bex assures Andi she still loves him. That this panic is because of how good things have been with him and fear of change.

Bex promises to mail the invites tomorrow. Andi corrects her by saying we will mail them. I’m going to walk you to the post office and watch you do it.

Andi then uses this opportunity to say she’s going to murder Bex’s sheet by cutting a hole in it and painting it gray.

Honestly, though, she’s seen how Bex lives, she can’t possibly think doing that to a sheet of hers would really ruin it in Bex’s eyes. It’ll be back on her bed within a week.

Cyrus catches up to Buffy at school and asks her if she thinks Andi would flip if he bailed on Mount Rushmore. Buffy’s like, yep. Are we ever going to get an explanation as to why Andi is obsessed with Mount Rushmore? Has this been like, her thing going back to when they were little kids or something?

Cyrus tells Buffy he wants to do a costume with TJ. He tells her it’ll be a somersault, which is their thing. He asks her if she understands.

Buffy’s also like, “I smell gayness.” But in a positive way.

Still, she says the problem is that Costume Day is tomorrow. She then realizes she might know someone else who actively has a head and could help.

Andi runs into Amber, pacing around outside the middle school. She posted her nice pictures to InstaPic and Jonah didn’t give her a like.

God, this is, at the same time, incredibly stupid and so real. What a time to live in that this is a legit modern relationship issue.

Andi tries to tell her not to read too much into it, but that’s not happening. Amber asks Andi to have a talk with him.

So Andi heads over to Red Rooster to talk some sense into Jonah. She reminds him Costume Day is tomorrow and that he’ll thank her when their Mount Rushmore costume ends up as a four page foldout in the yearbook.

And, of course, once again in 30 years, when someone asks him what his best costume was and he has an easy answer.

She tells him about the whole Amber thing. That if she posts a picture, give it a heart. No exceptions.

And Jonah’s like, I heart most of them. And Andi’s like, no exceptions.

No. Exceptions.

Back at the school, Buffy heads over to find Marty, who’s dressed like The Rock in an adventure movie for some reason.

Buffy remarks on how it’s cool they can just talk again, then asks him for a favor. Marty’s like, what kind of favor? And Buffy’s like, I need to use your head.

At the park, Kira shows up and tells TJ she’s been looking for him.

That’s a soon-to-be-sad choice of words.

Kira tells him she has a super-simple, basketball-related idea for Costume Day. TJ tells her he already has a costume: “Somersault” with Cyrus.

Kira tries again, telling him her idea is really cool. TJ again turns her down.

Kira’s like...

“That smells pretty gay to me.”

She sarcastically wishes him good luck with that and walks off. TJ remains behind, rattled.

Andi returns home to find Bex and Bowie waiting for her.

It seems pretty clear by now that Andi rules this house like an iron-fisted Queen. They live in fear of her.

Andi says it’s been a while since she’s seen them in such an ominous tableau.

Ominous Tableau, by the way, was the name of my folk rock band in college. We were terrible. Got ran out of several open mics. They actually passed a local ordinance to prevent more than two members of the band from being in the same room at the same time after a few too many of our shows. Oh, memories.

Andi wants to know what’s up. Her parents just quietly look at the wedding invitations and Andi realizes they are not being mailed today. Or ever?

They explain that this wedding, with all its planning and details is too much, and that what they already have is perfect. There are too many expectations and Bex doesn’t want to risk it.

I gotta say, I strongly relate to not wanting to do stuff or go to a party. They’re speaking my language.

Bowie is just happy being Andi’s dad and with what they have now. He doesn’t need more.

Andi takes a second, then says okay. And Bex is like...

...did we just get away with this?

Andi says it’s their decision. She’s not feeling surprised. That really, deep down, when you think about it...

Oh?

Then what about before?! All that wedding stuff. The arguments about cake? And dresses? And centerpieces? You were just killing time?

Andi goes to gather her Mount Rushmore supplies as she’s decided she’s heading to Andi Shack to finish the costume.

Bex tries to say if she sees Celia, to not... but Andi tells her not to worry. She won’t say anything and break Celia’s heart.

And then she just walks out, leaving her parents in stunned silence.

It’s weird that Bex and Bowie’s names are on the papers when it’s actually Andi who owns the place.

Andi heads to The Spoon and runs into Amber, who thanks her for getting Jonah to like her pictures. She goes to start her shift while Jonah follows Andi outside.

He says he forgot how much he had to do with Amber.

Which is a great way to be thinking about a relationship you’re like, two days into.

He says it’s not just hearting her pictures. It’s constant texting. Constant hanging out. Constant being around her friends. She’s like a timebomb of insecurity waiting to go off.

Andi tells him that’s regular boyfriend stuff but he contends it’s a lot.

Andi, who’s very clearly over trying to fix Jonah and Amber’s relationship, tells him to just do whatever.

Or don’t do it. It’s fine either way, just make up your damn mind.

She starts to leave but stops and turns back.

She tells him he can do this like he’s about to strap himself into a rocket and launch into space. I know the risks are large, and you might not come back, but I believe in you. You can have a good relationship with Amber.

At school on Costume Day, Cyrus spots TJ, not dressed like summer.

TJ says he was going to call him but before he can explain, Kira shows up. She’s like, let’s show Cyrus the costume.

Oh, I get it. It’s funny because, in basketball, a double dribble is a violation and so is this costume.

TJ apologizes as Kira drags him away and Cyrus is left to stand there, heartbroken, and wearing a colander on his head.

The greatest of indignities.

Andi shows up with her Mount Rushmore getup and runs into Marty and Buffy. Buffy explains Marty’s there to replace Cyrus, who apparently has not warned Andi of his plans. I don’t know Andi that well, but given how much Mount Rushmore seems to mean to her, I’d have gone out of my way to make sure she knew.

Andi takes the news that Marty will be replacing Cyrus well.

It’s all okay as long as Jonah’s still in. On cue, Jonah shows up. Andi’s ready to go but Jonah says he has something to say first. He pulls her aside.

He’s thought about what she said, about doing things he wants to do and not just doing stuff because people want him to do it. Long story short, he doesn’t want to be in Mount Rushmore.

Andi takes this well, too.

“...MOM?”

“Huh? I’m not your mom.”

“Right. Sorry, I’m working through a lot of stuff.”

Andi says she was counting on him. Jonah says she told him he should decide what he wants to do. Andi’s like, I meant with Amber, not me!

She yells “wrong lesson” at him the way you might say “Bad dog!”

Jonah apologizes and walks off.

Let me just stop for a second here and point something out. I’m not going to make a whole post to “Pink Backpack” this, but this is the same area Pink Backpack took place and there are some strange things going on in this scene with the kids.

Exhibit #1: Gorilla Kid and Dinosaur Kid.

Exhibit #2: Pharaoh Kid.

And, the worst one of all, Exhibit #3: Hot Dog Kid.

These kids are walking in circles. They’re teleporting(?). And I know, in my heart, this is somehow all Metcalf’s fault.

Anyway, Andi walks with Marty and Buffy and says this...

I can’t believe there’s this whole story here where Andi has been dreaming of doing a Mount Rushmore costume for years and is constantly having those dreams dashed. What a weird fixation.

They spot Cyrus being a sad little salt shaker.

The mime behind him is trapped in the box that is heteronormativity. Don’t test me. I’ve written college papers on flimsier.

They tell him Jonah won’t be in Mount Rushmore and re-recruit him into it.

Marty figures out what he’s dressed as.

Listen, I know it’s the principle of the matter, TJ bailing on him and all, but Cyrus shouldn’t be ashamed of the costume. It’s not bad as is. I see a lot of people dressed up as food -- a pizza, a pineapple, and of course, hot dog.

And look at this kid.

What is he, an easel? Terrible. At least you’re not him.

Anyway, Cyrus agrees to join Mount Rushmore.

Can we be honest for a second? It’s a fine costume. It was never going to be a two-page spread in the yearbook. The only one they bothered to even make look like one of the presidents is Marty (who’s killing it, by the way). The rest of them just look like faces in holes. I mean, compare it to the real thing:

It’s preposterous. Two pages?! Delusional! Best they were ever going to get was a decent sized shot on the “Costume Day” collage page.

The episode ends with them sadly getting their photo taken.

Relationships tested. People torn apart. Chaos.

Sounds like another successful Metcalf experiment.

#Andi Mack #Cyrus Goodman #Buffy Driscoll #Jonah Beck #TJ Kippen #Amber #Marty #Kira #Bex Mack #Bowie Quinn #Andi #episode recaps

423 notes · View notes