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#some of y’all never had a random guy go through your bins and break into your garden at night and it shows
abbaswift · 3 years
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i know i’ve posted about this before but it’s so creepy to think about when my friend slept over in my living room and we heard tapping on the window so she was being dramatic and i was like “chill it’s just the wind knocking something against the window” anyway cut to the next day and all the garden stuff has moved and there’s muddy FOOTPRINTS on the fence
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Cyprus brings shampoo to Rotterdam 2021
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I FELL IN LOVE, I FELL IN LOVE, I GAVE MY HEART TO PRODUCT PLACEMENT.
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Though I do see where they come from. Everyone from Panik Records, from her to Eleni Foureira featuring Perfectil on the “Fuego” MV, gonna need that sweet sweet money all of the time. But has Greece’s economy not really recovered for them to constantly need to advertise products on music videos or am I just losing my mind overthinking things?
Eitherway, this review may or may not appear before or during their rehearsal day, so see how do I make a fool of myself by trying to estimate Cyprus’s chances!
ARTIST & ENTRY INFO
This year we have a 26 year old Elena Tsagrinou from Greece here (the way they were last represented by a somewhat Cypriot on 2017?). She did music early on in her age, also participated in the Greek version of Got Talent. Though, before breaking out as a solo pop sensation in ways you cannot imagine, she used to be in a pop band OtherView. Strangely enough, I’ve heard of them because of this song below but I could’ve NEVER estimated it was her and never could have I predicted she would land herself a Eurovision entrance all alone:
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The band has had quite a few successful enough singles with her, she did some music shows participation and hosting, her band switched labels midway through (guess into which one they eventually landed, hint: some of the screenshots in this review have this peculiar logo), and in 2018, she had to “withdraw” from the group to go ahead and pursue the aforementioned solo career, somewhat. She continued doing a lot of shows (particularly seen on the MAD music channel related events), and doesn’t have as many singles as she had with OtherView right now, but she’s possibly well on her way to blossom as an artiste. Some of those reading (lol who am I kidding who even reads these) may be familiar with this little song of hers:
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You’ve heard way too many things about “El Diablo”, her 2021 entry, so idk if I feel like explaining the technical side of things all by myself or you already know everything. But in these reviews I repeat everyone else regardless, so let me just say that “El Diablo” is an obvious pop song, with a lot of Swedish related touches to it, because at least one person on this song also worked on Alvaro Estrella’s Melodifestivalen 2021 entry that glorifies at least a handful of the same cliches that “El Diablo” does lyrically. Dear Eurovision lyricists, you can use more foreign languages than Spanish for your obligatory foreign language incorporations, thanks~
Although I’m not sure about whether it is more Laurell Barker’s fault as much as it is Joker Thörnfeldt’s, but it’s easier to blame them equally, because the former probably came up with “ta-taco, tamale” and the latter couldn’t get enough of the word “mamacita” they used for the aforementioned Melodifestivalen entry. Anyway, the lyrics, from what I get, is that she’s in love with an eeeevil guy because he’s sweet talking her, they do some sexy stuff together (presumably), pour sauce on their bodies for no explicit reason other than “obligatory-foreign-reference-itis”, she’s breaking the rules (and idk if it was “mama-mamacita” telling her to do it), got the icy edges that the spicy is melting for her, throws eyelashes on the floor when she’s got no wigs to throw (but that doesn’t matter because even without a wig, she can flip her hair and make him look twice), and there’s as much as you need to know about the song’s lyrics as I feel like I should show to you, because eh. Eurovision has suffered from worse cookie-cutter lyricism through the years, “El Diablo” is painful but not the worst.
REVIEW
But I do like the song somewhat!
“El Diablo” was initially compared to Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” upon release, and I totally kind of see why, because in all the right spots you can absolutely hum over the chorus to that over the one of “El Diablo”’s, it just exchanges gratuitous French translation of one of the already sung lines on the bridge for obligatory inserted Spanish terms just for the sake of being trendy with the crowds of the nowadays, because as we learned nothing these days, having a lot of Spanish in your song is apparently trendy. And Elena does nothing absolutely batshit insane on the music video (other than advertising) - no lapdance for the devil Lil Nas X style, no being forced into a bath, no person to sell her body to (not even the titular diablo), no dancers that rise out of their Christian sleep pods. Just Elena singing behind lots and lots of trash bin bag wrap.
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Honestly the bigger issue for me than the song being “sAtAnIc because it is called “the DEVIL!!!”, aside from the lyrics, is that the MV does not come with any forewarning whatsoever for the people that are seizure prone when they see strobe lights? And that happens for some extended periods of this clip? I know you are indulged in your advertising and good for you but don’t just care for the companies that pay you if you use their products, do care about people’s wellbeings too, sometime.
But enough about the MV.
The song is decently sounding. It has interesting uses of what sounds like hi-hats during the verses (e.g.: a moment when this happens for the first time on the song is after Elena sings “tonight we’re gonna burn in a par-tY” the second time, and then there’s something that sounds soaring - that’s what I think that the hi-hats did.). It also has some sort of a synth piano on the second verse to boost the song’s sound rather than just relying on 808s and beats. I quite like how the chorus is so instant somehow, idk why but it is for me. Might have a gripe with that childish choir singing “I LOVE EL DIAB-LO” in the tune of standard kindergarten children teasing tune (aka ”NA NA NA BOO BOO”), as well as the constant breathing sounds, but they don’t distract me from generally “fucking” with this song, lol. It’s just that likeable imo.
I just can’t cope with the fact that Cyprus can’t seem to dare to go at least a little bit original with their song, yanno? Ever since 2019 they were called out as being a ripoff of something... hell, everyone since 2016 except Eleni was a ripoff of something. Alter Ego? “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers. Gravity? “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man. Replay? “Fuego” itself. Running? “Lose Control”, Meduza x Becky Hill. Now we have a Lady Gaga song wannabe that even caught the attention of another singer that the music video looked like it was ripping off, and the Eurofandom caught up in hysterics:
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Heads up, folks: not EVERY short haired blonde with messy hair, silvery tank top and shortpants that writhes on the floor is a Zara Larsson clone. And I don’t know who stirred controversy first - her or the fans - but this was ridiculous to see, even for me.
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Although for a second I saw where they were coming from.
Now see why I want Cyprus to go original for at least once? Because I guess that the way “Fuego” was conjured up, it brought Cyprus so much success with how the package was, how Eleni sold it, and how the song sounded. You know the first thing of everything potentially going wrong for you later on is if you find the formula you’ve been looking for, but you proceed to be using the exact same formula that got you this far in the first place, without realizing what was it in the formula that you needed to bank on to further to make it click, but instead proceed to copy everything like it was an easy, fill-in-the-blank form. You can and should do better than that.
Though that doesn’t stop me from ranking it 11th this year.
Thing is, I really expected it to be the one female pop song of the year I would have the constant impulsive need to replay, replay, yeah. Ever since the chaotic entry MV drop that occured on some random-ass Cypriot TV show where three guys talked a lot (and before that, we got a cooking show), and kept growing increasingly agitated that no one is liking their show, until at some point one of them erupted in “IN TWU MEENETS... EL DIABLO... ON UR TEEVEE”; I was really devastated I couldn’t be able to break the replay button because of Panik Records deciding to rather benefit for themselves to have the MV on their app, then on Youtube, THEN on Spotify in that order. So I listened to a few video rips that I received / had for myself, and it was a fun time... until I realized the desire to play it declined much faster than I thought it would when it actually dropped on Spotify, oops. So I can’t really let myself rank it higher, when there are at least some catchier female bangers with better overall sound, better lyrics, and better multiple-replay factor. But I can’t really settle for a much lower rank for her than 11th, anyway. Girlbanger 2021 power y’all!
That and vocally she’s actually not that bad, even if she has shown up singing her song drunk in a handful of Instastories for some event of some party house, and at the time people overreacted, but I think that at least a large audience of those same people has collectively dropped their “Cyprus obvious NQ” talks come the pre-parties.
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Panik Records, when will you put the yeehaw El Diablo on streaming? Now THAT’S a version that has replay value, and I might never get bored of it instead :(
Approval factor: Yeah, there exists some for me in it Follow-up factor: CyBC did one of the nastiest in terms of following up their 2020 arc of “Bring Your Artist Back for Revenge Year” that was 2021, straight up ditching Sandro probably right after Eurovision was done (well it doesn’t look like the case because CyBC published a statement later, but I sense that it might’ve been the case), because “Running” wasn’t doing so well with the “YAS QUEEN” branch of the Eurofandom. Which sucks because Sandro would’ve actually been down to be asked again for Eurovision, as he revealed it to NikkieTutorials during many of her interviews with last year’s class of. “Agreement from both parties” my ass, unless Sandro secretly realized that like Tom Leeb, he was too busy for 2021 Eurovision, which I doubt. It actually sucks imo that Sandro can probably be considered as even a forever non-returnee, because Sandro is more of German roots than Greek, and if we learned anything about the Mukuchyangate 2021, is that Germany will never send a returning artist, at least one that didn’t represent their country first and foremost. So Greece could only ask Sandro nicely only if the contest comes on to Germany, I guess? How do you think they decided on getting Stefania, who still ever so regularly appears on Dutch music, to represent them this year? So on that regard the follow-up from CyBC stinks, eventhough I think that entrywise the follow-up was rather decent, at least in the usual Cypriot way of sending female pop (going from “Replay” to “El Diablo” which I like more than “replay”), and eventhough I’m falling out of the hype for Cyprus I once used to have, their 2015-2021 entry streak had entries that I largely feel positive for overall, so in that regard, the follow up is decent. Qualification factor: In a year of Semi 1 Female Banger Slaughterhouse, Elena goes out in my eyes with several scratches, but not enough to completely kill her chances. If anything, given the divisiveness of Ireland’s rehearsals, Elena is likely to obliterate any last memory of Lesley Roy any first time viewer has ever had, except for her stage graphics. Even if Elena’s staging will not be as mindblowingly cartooney as the last, once a bop comes on, everyone forgets the slower song and gives into the bop, at least that’s how the draws work when choosing what insignificant song to put on 2nd and wedge in between the opening banger and some lesser-key banger, right? I know that “Replay” barely qualified, but I find “El Diablo” slightly better, and it all goes well, it will barely just as qualify as well. Because in a Semi 1 Female Banger Slaughterhouse, she can’t be the losing one, really.
INTERNAL CORNER
I already told everything that was noteworthy about Elena’s journey in previous sections, honestly.
• That I said that CyBC likely ditched Sandro right after cancellation just like Hooverphonic ditched “Release Me” should they have had a chance to keep or toss their entry. It doesn’t present itself as the case, but I just feel like it is.
• That the song was revealed on a Cypriot talkshow where three dudes were aware that we were waiting for “El Diablo”, trying to throw some gratuitous English our way, hating that we didn’t like our show, but promising that “El Diablo” MV will be shown in “TWU MEENETS”, which wasn’t but worth the wait eh?
• That people were cackling at Zara Larsson joining in the talks of Elena’s MV having aspects of her own song’s MV plagiarized.
• That Elena performed her song in a private-ish event when drunk and having heaps of fun and people cried that it was gonna be a NQ.
And do I really need to elaborate about the local Cypriot church scandal? It just so happened that a bunch of people read into a song’s title so much, thought it was rude of their country to sing about the devil (eventhough the bigger offenses made here is the gratuitous Spanish more than anything), and hoped that the broadcaster will disqualify the very song they okayed to be internally chosen because they are displeased with it - and if it’s not disqualified, they even threatened to burn the headquarters down. No, really. That’s like the most amusing part of that whole spectacle. Imagine burning a broadcaster headquarters down for a song... if I did it for every favourite of mine that lost to other broadcasters, the broadcasters would run out of locations to rent, because everything else good is pre-occupied or the ashes of their lost headquarters staring back at them.
Imagine being toxicly Christian in 2021... How long until Elena’s face gets photoshopped on the main protagoniste of The Unholy?
ANY LAST WORDS?
Even if I’m with this song, part of me kind of wants me to fail to make Cyprus realize that their formula is starting to wear thin and they got to be somewhat of a versatile nation in Eurovision if they want to be on the radar of not just one specific niche. But then again, they learned nothing when they flopped with Tamta, because she sneakily qualified as opposed to failing even harder than Tulia, ah well. Will they ever learn?
But why would I openly wish this to a top 11 song of mine, oh dear. Good luck Elena, may God be on your side, I guess. :P
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poguesofthebau · 4 years
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Hi can I have a ship?? I’m 5’5 with blonde hair and blue eyes. I’m super outgoing and I love to party, drink, and smoke. I love meeting new people but I’m also the cautious mom friend. I struggle with panic attacks but barely anyone knows and i always try to be the happy friend that cheers everyone up. Thank you!
okay i love ur url bc like same
i ship you with jj! (honorary mention: besties with john b. jb would always forget that you and jj were actually dating for some reason?? he was so used to having you be just his two best friends, so after you guys got together it’d legit just slip his mind at random times. like the three of you would be hanging at the Chateau sometimes and he’d look over right when jj pecked your lips for no reason and he’d be like “uhhhhh what was that? why you guys kissin’?” bc jb is a space cadet and then he’d be like “oh yeah haha. y’all cute.” silly boy)
i think you and jj would be a thing for quite a while before actually getting together. you’d get drunk and/or high together, and before anyone could notice, jj would be pulling you into the spare room of the Chateau, or the Twinkie parked in the Boneyard parking lot, or even the bathroom of The Wreck that one hellish night. for the first few months, you’d be [best] friends with benefits. you’d sneak away for a quickie and then come back to your friends, pushing each other and laughing like nothing sexual had just happened, and it would confuse the fuck out of everyone around you. they all kept it to themselves, but the other pogues were just waiting for something more to happen, because they knew it had to eventually. 
one night, i can see the two of you suddenly having this breaking point, where you both simultaneously saw each other in a different light. it’d be a chill night at john b’s, all five of you staying the night. while pope, kie, and john b sat in the house throwing back beers, you and jj would’ve sat outside smoking a few joints. without realizing it, you’d both get sauced, deciding to move to the hammock so you could be a little more comfy during your high. and that, my friend, would be when it happened. you’d curl up next to jj, the hammock swaying gently, when kie would come bounding out of the house with an armful of empty beer bottles. “aw,” she’d call to you as she dumped the bottles into jb’s recycling bin. “guys, come see! the lovebirds are cuddling!” (the others had gotten drunker than you and jj had expected in your absence.) jj would groan under you, but you’d be too high to bother responding as the boys piled out of the Chateau to see. “wait, are they having sex?” john b would sarcastically yell, causing you to chuckle lightly. “they’re so fucking annoying,” jj would mumble. you’d absentmindedly raise a hand to run through his hair, expecting your friends to just leave when they got no reaction out of you. however, they weren’t ready to give in, apparently really wanting to get a rise out of you. “no, dummy,” kie would say to jb, shoving him lightly. john b would stumble down the stairs with a loud laugh. “they’re just being cute. you wouldn’t know anything about that.” pope would groan then, following slowly behind his friends as they neared the hammock. “i don’t wanna see them be cute. that’s like, the same as sex, pretty much.” “shut up, pope,” kie and jb would unintentionally chant together. at that point, you’d have flipped onto your side to watch through red, narrowed eyes as your friends stepped up beside your hammock. “what do you want, drunks?” “yeah,” jj would chime in. “did you guys run out of beer or something? fuck off, already.” the next ten minutes would consist solely of your friends pestering you and jj. at one point, john b even climbed into the hammock with you. (”if this hammock falls, i am going to hate you, john b.”)
much to your surprise, jj was actually pretty annoyed by the time pope, kie, and john b retreated to the house. “fucking assholes,” he’d mutter under his breath, pulling you back into him to close the distance john b had created. you’d throw an arm around his waist, your chin resting on him as you peered up to see his irritated expressioin. “you really mad?” you asked, not thinking any pogue antics could actually upset the blonde. “yeah,” he’d grumble, finally making eye contact with you. when his eyes met yours, you couldn’t fight the smile that broke out at his annoyance. the hand that had been on his hip moved to brush the hair back from his face before falling back to its previous position, and you stretched up a little to press your lips quickly to his jawline. “don’t be mad at them. they’re just fucking around, you know that.” “don’t care. i’m tryna enjoy a high with my girl, and they’re ruining it.” “your girl, huh? that’s what i am now?” you’d smirk as a blush crept onto his cheeks, and he rolled his eyes. “you know what i mean.” “do i?” he’d look at you again, pausing for a second. “yeah,” he’d confirm, half to you and half to himself. “my girl. you good with that? being mine and everything?” you’d scoff, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest on his chest. “thought you’d never ask.” he’d press his lips to your temple, humming in relief. despite how aggravating his friends were, that would turn out to be one of the best highs jj would ever have.
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Day Two - Remember Me
AN: Y’all we made it!! I’m so excited to share this one with you guys and to see what our talented fandom has done! Here is my contribution to day two! It’s all kinds of sappy, soft, sweet, sad (peep the title) and just emotional in general, and I hope you guys enjoy it. <3
Again, thank you @spideychelleweek for making this all possible!
Prompt: Meet the Family
Here is some 2.9k odd of fluff and hurt/comfort! 
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“Listen, I know you’re a huge nerd and everything, but..." Michelle’s voice holds a teasing, slightly judgmental edge as she struggles to hold three DVDs in one hand, hastily catching one as it falls out of her grasp. “Do you really need more than one copy of The Force Awakens?”
“Okay, first of all,” Peter starts, defensively holding one finger up, “One of those is Ned’s.”
MJ blinks slowly.
“Second of all, May bought me one as a random gift after I’d already pre-ordered it, and I couldn’t just… you know, give it back,” He reasons. “So, yeah. To answer your question: I do need three different copies.” Peter turns his attention back to organizing the box of various electronics hastily thrown together by past-Peter.
MJ still seems less than impressed with that explanation. “Okay. Why?”
“Well,” Peter shrugs, mouth pulling into a slight frown. “What if I lose one?”
When she doesn’t respond, Peter glances up, not surprised to find her staring blankly at him, her expression as impassive as it’s ever been.
He relents, letting her toss one of the three into the “give away” bin before promising to give the second back to Ned.
MJ, out of the kindness of her own heart— or out of boredom, either one— has been helping Peter, in her own words, “get his shit together,” for most of the afternoon. Too many times has she tripped over a stray book, his backpack, a hoodie or even a lone pair of boxers on the floor of his bedroom; times where she’s been unable to find the spare iPhone charger through all the spare papers, pens, and God knows what else in that mess he calls a “stuff drawer.”
Now, none of this is to say that Peter is the messiest person in the world, per se. He can be a relatively tidy person when he needs to be; his room is never littered with trash or the general grossness that comes with some teenage bedrooms.
But...
The cluttered state of Peter’s room is often a reflection of his own mind.
Which is why Michelle is there.
Plus, she’d seen one episode of Tidying Up with Marie Kondo one day when she was home sick from school, and with her room already pretty damn organized-- if she could say so herself-- she has to have some kind of outlet.
So, in a way, they’re really helping each other.
“Oh, hey,” Peter’s voice cuts through her internal monologue, his attention drawn to an ancient— by today’s standards, at least— video camera at the bottom of his second ‘random tech’ box. “Uncle Ben’s camera!”
For a moment, MJ’s ready to go into full-on Comfort Peter in the Best Way She Can Mode at the mere mention of his late Uncle, and she’s trying to decide whether she should do a full or half-hug when his fond, distant smile stops her.
“Wow, really?” She inquires cautiously, craning her neck slightly to get a better look at the artifact. “What’s on it?”
Again, Peter shrugs, flipping the screen open as he examines the device. “I dunno. Old home movies. Probably embarrassing videos of me.”
And he immediately regrets that last part, not having to see the cheshire grin that stretches across her features and the playful quirk of her brow to know that they’re there.
His shoulders sag as he rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You don’t wanna watch any, do you?”
“Um, of course I do.” Her brows furrow as she glances side-to-side. “Are you kidding?”
“It’s not even charged, though.”
“So charge it.”
A beat of silence passes between them.
“Okay, fine,” Peter gives in, though he seems to be far from annoyed, searching for the charging cable near the bottom of the tangle of wires.
MJ cracks another smile at him before continuing to sort through his DVD collection.
--
The old camera feels strange in Peter’s hand, heavier than today’s technology, screen casting a faint blue light as it turns on for what may be the first time in a decade. He’s surprised they’ve even been able to charge it, judging by how old this thing is.
MJ sits on the bed beside him, head resting against his, watching as he navigates the almost laughably ancient menu, an audible, very dated beep-click sounding at every push of a button.
Neither of them know what to expect as Peter clicks “play” on the first video.
The screen flickers slightly, the lens focusing on what they assume to be the old dining room. A man and a woman are setting the table, chuckling quietly to themselves as they joke with one another. They continue to chat idly as they place the plates and cups down, the context of the conversation lost.
They’re at first only vaguely recognizable to MJ, but the feeling is fleeting, the realization almost instantly dawning on her when she sees the mop of curly brown hair and dark eyes on the man, the cheery smile on the woman’s face.
Richard and Mary Parker.
The date at the bottom of the screen reads: August 4th, 2005, 6:07 PM
Her eyes pass a quick glance to the boy next to her, gauging his reaction. There’s a faint, barely-there grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as he watches his parents interact, neither of them paying any attention to the person filming.
“I wanna help!” A tiny voice sounds from behind the camera, and the view shifts quickly, showing a much younger Peter bounding into the room, napkins in his tiny hands.
Mary turns, beaming as she talks to her son, crouching down to show him how to fold the napkins.
MJ feels herself mirroring the expression on his mother’s face.
Peter is still silent beside her, and she can only wonder how he’s truly feeling as they both watch. While she has certainly experienced loss in her near seventeen years of being on this earth, she’s never gone through the pain of losing a parent, much less two biological and one emotional.
“My mom and dad,” Peter finally speaks, as if introducing them to her, his voice quiet.
Under normal circumstances, she might tease him for pulling a Captain Obvious, but she refrains.
She hums in acknowledgement.
“It’s crazy…” He starts, eyes never straying from the screen. “I— I don’t really remember much of them, you know? They… Well, they died when I was really little, so I didn’t really get a chance to make very many memories with them, and everything I did remember I kinda forgot. But—” He pauses, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Hearing their voices… Even though it’s not really something I actually remember… It’s almost like… like it all comes back. Like, it’s so clear, you know?”
It’s said that the the voice is usually the first to go, the first thing one forgets about someone else after they’ve gone. And the more she thinks about it, the more MJ realizes just how true it is. She remembers, very specifically, the last time she heard her grandfather’s voice, but it had been so long since then. In that moment, right then and there, she can just barely recall it in her memory.
She knows, however, that if she were to hear it in a recording— or in this case, a home video— she’d remember once again.
Memories are funny like that, she guesses.
“Yeah,” she nods, gently knocking his shoulder with hers. “I get it.”
The video goes on, with the cameraman— who Michelle can only assume at this point to be Uncle Ben— having moved to the kitchen.
A younger Aunt May stands in the room, poring over a recipe on the counter. “Damn, May,” MJ jokes appreciatively, laughing as Peter gives her a playful shove.
“Don’t even!”
The lens zooms in on May’s face, and she turns, an exasperated grin breaking across her features as she rolls her eyes. She swats at the man behind the camera with a dish towel.
“Hey, how ‘bout you put that dang thing away and make yourself useful around here!” May teases, her eyes sparkling as an immature-for-his-age giggle is heard from the cameraman.
The video ends as the screen pans down, the next playing with only a second in between.
The date reads: August 7th, 2005, 3:36 PM
“Whatcha got there, Pete?”
This time, Aunt May’s voice can be heard from behind the camera, the smile in her tone infectious as the little boy beams up at her through a mop of curly brown hair. A slightly-too-big cowboy hat sits on top of his head. He proudly holds up the pinto hobby horse, jumping with excitement.
“It’s a horsey!”
Aunt May oo’s and aw’s. “What’s the horsey’s name?”
Little Peter pats the neck of the toy with semi-gentle, reverent hands. “Shunshine!”
“Shunshine?” MJ asks incredulously, doing absolutely nothing to hide the snort that had escaped.
MJ can hardly blame the kid though; she’s pushing seventeen and she still has trouble with consonant digraphs every once in a while.
“Hey!” Peter laughs along with her, though there was no stopping the red tint that settled over his features. “It’s a great name!”
“Very creative.”
“Shut up.”
Their joined laughter fades as the next few videos play, falling into a comfortable silence as the old Parker living room shows up on the screen. Red and blue streamers adorn the walls, dozens of balloons in the same shades touch the ceiling, a comically large Happy Birthday! is strewn across the banister.
The date reads: August 10th, 2005, 4:14 PM
The camera circles the room, showing off the decorations, before finally landing on the birthday boy himself.
“What’s your name, sir?”
A new voice full of mirth and humor asks from behind the lens; his father.
Young Peter looks up, a toothy grin stretched across his chubby face. “Peter Benjamin Parker,” he answers, emphasizing each word with a firm nod.
“And how old are you today?” His mother asks, tone laced with hushed excitement.
The boy smiles again, eyes wide, holding up four fingers.
“Four years old!” Both of his parents gasp-cheer.
August 10th, 2005, 5:23 PM
The birthday cake is simple; funfetti with chocolate frosting and red and blue sprinkles, a giant “four” candle placed in the center. Peter wiggles in his chair, eyes wide with wonder as he watches his mother light the wick.
“Are you ready, Peter?” She asks him, and he nods happily.
Happy Birthday is sung as it should be; full of enthusiasm, each singer being in a different key by the end of the song, cheers filling the room as the candle is blown out.
His mother plants a loving kiss on top of his head before smoothing down his unruly curls.
August 10th, 2005, 6:16 PM
The lens briefly goes in and out of focus, showing young Peter as he sits among torn wrapping paper and discarded boxes, his mouth stretched into a toothy smile as he looks at his presents. He jumps up, running around the room to give everyone an enthusiastic hug, thanking them over and over again for the toys.
August 10th, 2005, 7:02 PM
“Happy Birthday, Pete!” His family cheers in a happy chorus.
Peter responds with an excited, “Thank you!”
Aunt May briefly glances up, flashing a smile at her husband behind the camera, before looking back at the young boy in her lap. Her arms surround him in a loose, but loving embrace.
“Did you have a good day?” May asks.
Peter’s answer is an excited nod, followed by an appreciative hum.
Though the snippets of this past life are brief, they’re still able to elicit a familiar warmth from within present day Peter, and he huffs out a quiet chuckle at the way his younger self babbles on and on about how cool his brand new cowboy boots are.
And it’s infectious, as MJ feels the stirrings of the same, incandescent feeling.
The next clip starts from a whole new perspective, it seems.
Seeing as now they’re much closer to the ground, and the excited giggling coming from behind the lens, it seems as if young Peter, at some point, had gotten a hold of Ben’s camera.
August 12th, 2005, 5:50 PM
The view is shaky as the little boy darts throughout the apartment, pausing every few feet to film one of his relatives— though he only gets their legs in the shot; he’s only just pushing 3’1”, after all.
“Whatcha doin’, Pete?”
A new voice can be heard as a pair of work boots come to a stop in front of the boy, one they hadn’t heard yet.
Michelle can feel Peter freeze at the sound, and she glances at him through the corner of her eye; his gaze is still trained on the small screen, his smile tightening.
Uncle Ben himself crouches down, his tall body barely fitting into the frame, the top of his head partially cut off. A broad smile is stretched across his kind face, green eyes looking over the lens and at the boy holding the recorder.
“Filming,” young Peter says simply.
“I can see that! Got anything good yet?”
The camera moves as the boy nods proudly. “Uh-huh. Just like you!”
“Just like me?”
“Yeah! Are you proud?” Though the word comes out more, “poud.”
“Of course,” Ben chuckles gently, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s hair, eyes crinkling as his smile widens. “I’ll always be proud of you, bud.”
The video pauses, the screen frozen on the happy scene.
Present-day Peter hasn’t relaxed, his lips pressing together into a thin line, releasing a weighted breath as his thumb hovers over the play button.
MJ’s stomach churns with a new sense of guilt. “We don’t have to watch anymore… if you don’t want to.”
He nods quietly, slowly closing the screen, gripping the camera in his hands, knuckles nearly turning white at the pressure. Michelle sits, arms folding across her chest as she faces the internal struggle of what to say next, still unable to shake the unease festering in her gut.
“It’s just—” Peter starts, his voice cutting off. He sniffs again, glancing away as he preemptively wipes at the corner of his eye. “Hearing him again… his voice… seeing him actually talk...” He shakes his head. “It just— It got to me, I guess…” He trails off, his gaze still trained on the wall in front of them.
MJ places a hand on top of his, watching his face as he continues to speak.
“And I thought I was… good now? I don’t know. I mean,” he swallows, trying his best to keep his voice even. “I know that you never really forget them, that you never really move on… And everyone always tells you that it’ll get easier but it doesn’t... But, I guess I just thought that I was actually doing better. That it really had gotten easier. Maybe I was the exception... I stopped thinking about him every second… I had some voicemails— that he’d left me, before he… you know… but I’d never listened to them, I guess… because I was too afraid. Of what? I don’t know...”
She gives his hand a comforting squeeze, her own heart pounding in her ears.
“Like, I know that it makes sense that I don’t really remember what my parents sound like, their voices. ‘Cause, you know, I didn’t get the chance to. But I never—” His voice is caught in his throat, the shakiness making it harder and harder to speak. He finally turns to look at her, bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes clouded with tears.
“I never thought I’d forget his.”
At that, without a second thought, she opens her arms, and he falls into them easily. She wraps him in a warm embrace, his face burrowing under her chin. He doesn’t weep, tears falling silently instead as she rubs soothing circles on his back.
And she doesn’t know how long she holds him like that, how long they sit there. No words are exchanged between them, though none are really needed.
“Sorry… For making you watch that,” MJ’s voice is nearly inaudible as she mumbles into his hair. “I shouldn’t have pressured you.”
“No, uh—” This time, he shakes his head, the quiet sniffle between words not going unnoticed. “No. No, it’s okay,” he reassures her, finally pulling back, though he still stays in her arms. “It’s actually really nice… seeing my parents. Seeing Ben. I’m not gonna say that it’s like they never left... But it’s like they’re still with me, he’s still with me, in a way.” His lips quirk into a sad smile, his hand reaching up to wipe at his eyes again. “And… I’m glad you got to see them.”
Michelle finds herself easily returning his bittersweet expression.
While she’d never had the chance to meet his parents, from the short clips she saw, she could tell that they loved each other and that they truly loved their son. She’d also never properly met Uncle Ben, only seeing him in passing as he’d pick up Peter from middle school, or come to decathlon meets in their Freshman year. It wasn’t much, only snippets of their actual lives, but even the smallest glimpse made her feel closer to Peter, to his family.
It was a feeling she’d treasure for years to come.
Perhaps in a more emotionally stable state, she’d make fun of herself for being so cliche, so dramatic. But at this point, right in this moment, she didn’t care.
Her lips press together into a small, faint smile as she takes his hand in hers again.
“I’m glad I got to see them, too.”
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bang-tae-n · 5 years
Text
To a pulp
Genre: soulmate, angst?
Warnings: mentions of beatings (not in depth) mentions of bruising
Pairing: changbin x reader
Most people’s soulmate connections were things like sight or tattoos or even taste but yours was different from anyone else’s. Yours had to do with your face. There’s really no good way to explain it but basically whenever your soulmate smiles or frowns, the corners of your mouth would turn up or down. Whenever he’s hot in the face from either emotion or a workout, you started to break into a sweat as well. With this connection, it helped you figure out what kind of person he was.
He wasn’t much of a bright person who smiled all the time but you felt a grin every so often. The more concerning side of this connection is that you would feel a lot of frowns and pain. You would wake up feeling swollen spots or bruises near your temples and cheeks, or random pulses of pain around your eyes. Maybe your soulmate was into boxing? Or maybe he was just like any other boy who always messed around with their friends?
~
Changbin walked down the dark alley hesitantly. It was a long walk home from Hyunjin’s house and he left later than he should have. He turned down Hyunjin’s offer on driving him home since he was embarrassed about where he lived. His neighborhood was not the nicest so he always insisted on going to his friend’s houses instead of his own. His eyes shifted left to right as he walked because the dim lights weren’t bright enough to even see his own two feet. He jumps as he hears a trash bin rattle. He scoffs at himself when a stray cat appears.
“Is little Binnie scared of a little kitty?” Changbin jumps out of his own skin when he hears the voice. He tries to walk away from wherever the voice came from but his feet fail to do so when he feels the presence a figure in front of him. He stands in fear of what is to come.
~
You woke up late in the night, or should you say early in the morning, to some severe pain coming from the right side of your face. You sat up and attempt to massage the pain but it was too intense for that to do anything. You creep down into the kitchen and grab an ice pack to sooth the pain. What is this kid’s deal? You look over at the oven clock. It’s 1 in the morning...on a school night! You try to fall back asleep but the pain worsens and you feel a tingling sensation in your left eye. You think about what this kid could be doing at 1 am and when you realize what it could be, your jaw drops.
~
Changbin, left on the cold concrete, shakes in both fear and in low temperature. He waits a few more moments, listens carefully, then gets up and continues on to his house.
~
You couldn’t fall back asleep. The pain in both your face and your heart throbbed. You feared for your soulmate and what he could be going through. You didn’t know what to do because you had no idea where he lived or who was doing this to him. Luckily, the connection only happened with feeling and not so much appearance. You went to school with pain in your face but no one could see it. Thoughts raced through your mind all day at school and you debated on telling your friends or your parents but what could they do? No one knows who this kid is, and neither do you.
~
Changbin had made it home without his mom knowing and attempted to fall asleep with the little time he had left before his alarm would go off. He did not sleep well at all so getting up only four hours later was a struggle. He gets up and makes his way to his mom’s bathroom. Luckily his mom leaves for work when he gets up so she wouldn’t see the horror on his face. He opens the bathroom drawers looking for her makeup. He’s only used her makeup once before when it was bad but this was worse. He applies the concealer to his face very delicately.
~
As you walk into school, you look around for anyone that could have marks on their face. The thought of helping this guy overflowed your thoughts on finding your soulmate. You wanted to help and comfort him, no matter what he was going through.
~
Changbin walks into school with his head hanging low, which isn’t unusual but it’s never this low. He pulls his hood over his head to hide his face in the shadows. Fortunately he’s not considered “Mr. popular” so no one went up to him asking about the shades of purple on his face. He went to his first period and put his head down on his desk.
~
You rush to class just making it before the bell rang. You sit down and prepare for the starting class. It’s the usual learning routine until the teacher calls on some kid in the back to wake up and take his hood off. You, along with a few others, turn to see the kid. He slowly pulls his hood off but keeps his head hanging low. As the other kids turn back to the teacher as she continues her lecture, you continue to look at the boy. You notice shades of purple splotched across his face. It seems to be some what covered up with makeup. Then it hits you. It couldn’t be, could it?
A/n: I’ll make a part 2 at some point...depending on if y’all like it and if I get inspired
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