#(yes.. that is the raccoon from story of seasons.. just shut up he is my son he comes w me everywhere..)

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user ID: dv3jnWr3g7

[rigmarolling]

Five Things Abe Lincoln Did That Prove He Was A BAMF

I love Lincoln. You probably know this if you’ve listened to me talk for more than two seconds. I have a literal entire bookshelf filled with Lincoln stuff. I teared up in Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln at Disneyland. I cried so hard when I watched Lincoln (2012), that I almost started dry-heaving. I was Lincoln (sort of) for Halloween.

Is it a problem? No. It isn’t a problem, Mom. Because Lincoln was a 100% USDA-certified badass.

Don’t believe me? Here are ten things Abe did to prove he was absolutely a BAMF.

1. That time he jumped out a window to prevent a vote.

In 1840, the Illinois legislature was voting on whether or not to fund the state bank. Lincoln was a member of the Whig party, which did not require members to wear wigs, contrary to what the name suggests, but which did support saving the state bank. The opposing party, the Democrats (different political beliefs from modern-day democrats, do NOT come at me, Reddit dudebros) wanted to shut the State bank down.

It all came down to a vote...and it looked like the anti-state bank democrats were going to win. Abraham Lincoln, then a 31-year-old legislator who looked like the pioneer version of a Tim Burton character, was getting nervous. 

Above: Jack Skellington, 1840.

“Shit,” he thought, probably, “We Whigs are screwed if we lose this vote. And we don’t even get to wear wigs.”

The bank-hating democrats scheduled a vote to adjourn the session, which would effectively be the nail in the state bank’s coffin. Abe was panicking. He was the de facto leader of the Whigs; he had to do something. 

“Prove your mettle, boy,” he probably thought to himself in a folksy, backwoods kinda way. “Show ‘em you ain’t gonna give up.”

So Abe did what any self-respecting legislator would do when stuck between a rock and a hard place:

He jumped out the window of the legislature to stop the vote.

To be fair, Lincoln wasn’t the only one to opt for a morning act of defenestration: a bunch of the other Whigs joined in, too. The rationale was, essentially, this:

Which is peak Internet comedy, but unfortunately, it was 1840 and the Internet didn’t exist yet, so nobody appreciated the gesture and the democrats eventually wound up closing the bank, anyway. 

But at least Abe showed the entire state that he appreciated Looney Tunes-esque escape tactics.

2. That time he roasted a guy during a debate with good-old self-deprecating humor.

You ever rely on self-deprecating humor to beat people to the “yes, I KNOW I am offensive” punch?

So did our 16th president, Abraham Nicole Lincoln.

(Not his real middle name.)

When Lincoln was campaigning, his biggest rival was Stephen Douglas, the Democratic contender who was nicknamed “the little giant” because he was short but a heavy hitter in politics, and also because he looks like the kind of guy that just wouldn’t shut up at parties:

Above: “Actually, I’m not racist, BUT--”

In 1858, Lincoln and Douglas held a series of seven famous political debates called, brilliantly, The Lincoln-Douglas Debates, coming to you LIVE at Rockefeller Center, with performances by the Rockettes, Anna and Elsa on Ice, AND with special guest, Seal!

These debates were THE go-to political show of the season. If you were super into who would be elected to the Illinois Senate in the mid-19th century, then holy shit, you have got to watch these two men go at each other, man, it’s like watching a tree and an angry little dog slap each other across the stage.

During the debates, Lincoln quickly became famous for his one-liners, and also because no one had ever seen a talking tree in a suit before.

In one of the debates, Douglas accused Lincoln of being two-faced. Without missing a beat, Lincoln, who had been mocked his entire life for his ungainly, scarecrow-like appearance in the same way that I just mocked him a few sentences ago, whoops...

ANYWAY.

Lincoln turned to Douglas and went, “Honestly, if I were two-faced, would I be showing you this one?” 

And then the audience did this:

And then Lincoln was like:

Check. Mate. 

3. That time he was so strong and such a good wrestler that nobody messed with him.

When I say “wrestler,” what do you think of?

Is it this?

Maybe this?

What about this?

Huh? What’s that you say? “What the hell is...is that Lincoln? What...what the hell is Lincoln doing in a list of wrestlers?

“Um,” I answer, “Being a wrestler.”

Because Abraham Lincoln, 6′ 4″ and all of 150-something pounds, was, in fact, an incredibly talented wrestler.

So talented, in fact, that when it came to wrestling matches, he went undefeated for most of his life.

See, Lincoln grew up in the middle of butt crack-nowhere, out in the sticks of the American frontier. Ain’t no room for sissies out on the frontier. This here’s hard-scrabble country, see, rough-livin’; you gotta spit to live; you gotta live to spit; Neosporin? I think you mean weak-ass bitch cream.

So how did rootin’ tootin’ frontier folk blow off steam? Well, when they weren’t dying of dysentery or tuberculosis or minor infections that could today be cured by steady application of Neosporin, they were wrasslin’. And when it came to the act of picking someone up and throwing them back down, nobody wrestled like 21-year-old Abraham Justine Lincoln.

(Not his real middle name.)

One look at the guy and people were like, “The hell? What’s this ancient Egyptian mummy doing in the ring?”

But the second he got going, everyone shut up. Because this guy was nuts. He was a berserker. He could defeat a guy three times his size in seconds. He could bench the Rock, probably, and not even break a sweat.

He was the nicest guy in town. But nobody--and I mean nobody--messed with Abraham Ashley Lincoln.

(Not his real middle name).

One time, Jack Armstrong, the local heavyweight champion who was the Big Bad in town and undefeated in the wrestling and “I’m a giant asshole who smashes my way through problems” arena, challenged Lincoln to a match. 

“Uh oh,” everyone in the little town of New Salem, Illinois thought, “That’s it for ol’ Twig Legs Abe. He might be good, but there’s no way he can defeat Jack Armstrong. Nice knowing you, kid; it’s a shame, because you might have made a solid president.”

But Lincoln, who knew no fear and ate chains forged in the heart of a dwarven cavern for breakfast, was like, “Bring it on, bitch.”

Above: Playin’ with the boys.

Jack and Abe started sparring and Jack threw insult after insult Abe’s way. I don’t know exactly what Jack said, but it was probably the 19th century equivalent of, “You may have 2,300 Facebook friends but nobody cares about the pictures of your homemade Shake ‘N Bake chicken that you post, eggwad.”

Abe didn’t relent. 

See, he was getting angry.

Really angry.

So angry, in fact, that in one fell swoop, he suddenly slammed big Jack Armstrong to the ground so hard that Armstrong passed out, cold.

Abe had won. Everyone stared at the panting, growling, 6′4″ pine tree man in reverent awe. 

A fun epilogue to this story: after Jack Armstrong recovered from getting his ass handed to him by a guy who looked like an extra in a movie about the Amish, he and Abe remained steadfast buddies for the rest of their lives. 

Jack just never ever insulted Abraham Jessica Lincoln again.

(Not his real middle name.)

4. The (many) times he went off into long, rambling stories during Cabinet meetings to illustrate a point.

You know how grandma and grandpa sometimes go off on tangents and you’re like, “okay, okay, get to the point.”

But grandma and grandpa don’t even respond and just keep talking about that one time in 1953 that Anne-Marie told George that no, she hadn’t gone to the corner store, why do you keep asking, George? And then I said to George, I said, George, you need to listen to Anne-Marie because she knows that the corner store is the only one in town that sells fresh-laid eggs and Butterick circle skirt patterns, but did he listen? Did he listen to me? No, he didn’t, so I went to---

You get it.

So did every single member of Lincoln’s cabinet. Because Lincoln was a consummate storyteller, for better or for worse. 

(Sometimes for worse, depending on who you asked.)

Above: “One time, at band camp...”

Lincoln would interrupt important meetings about, you know, saving the Union and the soul of the country itself with anecdotes that started something like this:

Lincoln: You know, Sec. Stanton, that reminds me of a fur-trapper I knew back in Illinois--

Stanton: Great, except, Mr. President, everyone is dying--

Lincoln: Now this here fur trapper was the best fur trapper in the entire state. Not the entire country, mind you, on account of we didn’t really have a way of measuring fur-trapping skills nationwide--

Stanton: *neck turning purple* Mr. President--

Lincoln:--but definitely the best fur trapper in Illinois. Now one day, this fur trapper set out to do what he did best: shoot some raccoons, or maybe a bear, or a wolf if he was lucky, or a deer, or some moose, or a beaver, or a mongoose, or maybe a possum--

Stanton: OH MY GOD--

Lincoln:--or a cat, if times were desperate, but not a dog, never a dog, because this here fur trapper loved dogs; had six of ‘em himself, all hound dogs, loyal to a fault, see, because this here fur trapper--

Stanton: JUST STOP--

Lincoln: --this here fur trapper could be short-sighted. See, he set his sights one day on shooting the biggest bear in the mountains--and this bear, why, this here bear was a Goliath of a bear, the biggest bear anyone ever did see, the biggest bear in the state; not the biggest bear in the country, mind you, on account of we didn’t have a way of comparing bear sizes nationwide, but--

You get the gist.

Above: “So I’m sitting there, barbecue sauce on my tiddies--”

Eventually, Lincoln would get to the point of his story; in this example, for...um, example...maybe the moral was, “Don’t get so focused on one goal (shooting that big bear) that you loose sight of other objectives in the war (getting rid of the wolf pack killing all the sheep or whatever).”

I would like to explain to you why telling long, rambling grandpa stories was such a power move:

Abe Lincoln was the president. 

So his whole Cabinet had to listen.

And Abe Lincoln knew it.

They had to listen to this backwoods guy go on and on about how that one time the local long boatsman fell into the river actually serves as a metaphor for Gen. McClellan’s inability to take control of the troops; or how the rabid raccoon that lived in the local blacksmith’s shop can serve as a metaphor for acting too hastily when trying to take down the South. 

Or, like, whatever.

Above: “All here in favor of me performing the entirety of Les Mis starring me as everyone, raise your hands.”

Apparently, Lincoln was also the kind of storyteller who, if there was a funny punchline at the end, took forever to get to the punch line because he’d start laughing hysterically at his own joke, and while many people thought it was incredibly endearing, others were like, “Boy, I wonder what it would be like if I dumped this entire fucking bottle of ink over the president’s head to get him to shut the fuck up.”

Spoiler alert: Lincoln did not, in fact, shut the fuck up. He was determined to teach folks a lesson through the the power of storytelling and also to help break the tension of a legitimately horrible war with the power of laughter.

Monopolizing the conversation to prove a point with anecdotes about frontier living that no one can escape?

Power. Move.

5. Those times he let his kids run amok in the White House and thought it was hilarious.

Lincoln had a four kids, all boys, who moved into the White House after he was elected president.

And these boys were little terrors.

To be fair, a vast majority of boys are terrors. Kids are terrors. They are small harbingers of chaos and discord with little regard for their fellow humans, which means they fit right in in the White House EYYYY POLITICAL COMMENTARY.

But Lincoln’s kids, apparently, were especially out of control.

Above: “Alright, enough pussy-footin’ around, Pops, fork over the dough and no one gets a kick in the nuts.”

Lincoln adored his boys, partly because he was a good dad and partly because he’d already had one child die tragically, so understandably, he was like, “Life is short and antibiotics haven’t been invented yet so we’re all going to die from getting paper cuts, probably; I’m just gonna let my boys do whatever the hell they want.”

And he kind of...did.

Willie and Tad Lincoln, his two youngest, brought tons of pets into the White House. Dogs, cats, birds...when people objected, Lincoln just sort of shrugged. He, too, was a huge animal lover and didn’t really care if ponies were clomping around the Oval Office. “My White House, my rules, my indoor ponies.”

The two Lincoln boys would dress up in military uniforms and have fake military drills and stage fake (LOUD) battles all over the White House, including when Dad was in a Cabinet meeting.

What did Dad do, you ask?

Laugh his head off.

While his kids would burst into Cabinet meetings, crawl under the table and kick important Senators’ legs and feet, generally causing a grade-A ruckus, Abe would try and fail to stifle his laughter.

Which, you know. Objectively isn’t the best parenting, but for Pete’s sake, they were at war, can’t they have a little fun? Jesus, lighten up, folks, they’re kids.

The Lincoln boys particularly irritated Sec. of War Edwin Stanton, but to be fair, almost everything irritated Sec. of War Edwin Stanton.

Above: “I have never had fun once, ever, in my life.”

Once again, Lincoln’s rationale was, “Life is fragile, one of my children already died, the country is at war, and kids make me laugh, so if they want to punch Sec. Stanton in the balls under the table, who am I to stop them?”

Also, Lincoln was the president, so nobody thought it was appropriate to go, “Um, hey? Mr.--Mr. President? Maybe you could tell your sons to, you know...not crawl under the table and interrupt, um...important...war strategy meetings?”

ALSO, Lincoln once wrestled a man twice his size to the ground without batting an eyelash, so you go tell him to make his kids behave. I dare you.

[alphabees-writes]

Glee - S1 E1 (Pilot)

Is it a smart idea to rewatch glee again? No.

Am I going to do it anyway? You bet your sweet bippy I am!

Am I going to liveblog my garbage monkey brain thoughts along the way even though nobody asked for it? Hell yeah.

Here goes!

Wow. The first frame of this entire show is literally of a woman who looks like she’s about 10 years above the natural lifespan of a Cheerio. Then again, I’m sure Sue’s not above holding back her best recruits for multiple years because Ohio high schools are apparently just Like That™

I also never notice this opening song was a remix of Keep Me Hangin On, wow. That’s actually kind of interesting foreshadowing of sorts, like, kind of smart. I’m glad I’m watching the part of Glee that was kind of smart.

This scene also doesn’t feature any of the Unholy Trinity as far as I can see. Are they a JV squad? Am I putting too much thought into this?

Sign #1 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Really, my guy? Driving around with your muffler dragging on the ground so bad it’s making sparks? That’s not very Road Safety of you. Fuck off. 

Sign #2 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Wow, there’s going to be a lot of these, huh? Anyway, anybody with working eyes would clearly see how scared Kurt is right now. “Making some new friends Kurt?” Fuck off. 

KURT. FIRST SIGHTING OF THE BOY. What a delight. But also, not a delight, because he’s being bullied and he deserves better. Look at his outfit. Iconic from day fucking one. 

Finn, you’re a himbo. What’re you doing with these assholes?

Puck’s first line in the whole series is “It’s hammer time!” What a fucking dork? Who made this boy popular. 

DO MORE THAN TAKE HIS COAT, FINN. LET HIM GOOOOO!!!

I paused while they were tossing Kurt in the dumpster and, wow, got the most hilarious frame where the guy who isn’t Puck is getting a meticulously polished boot to the face. Netflix let me take screenshots, you coward.

The first shot of Quinn... My wlw bones are shaking.

Why would they use that photo for Lillian Adler...? WHO WAS BORN IN 1937, MIGHT I ADD. THAT’S NOT A REAL YEAR. 

It’s weird to see Mr Schue actually speaking competent Spanish. Why did they veto that later? The ONE likeable thing about him was his competence as a school teacher, and they really threw it out the window huh?

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE MEMBERS OF SANDY RYERSON’S GLEE CLUB??? This kid seems to really like singing. Also, welcome to the beginning of Ryerson being annoying as all hell.

Oh my gosh, the background choir stuff. This show really had style back in the day!!!

R A C H E L B E R R Y Y O U R M A K E U P ! ! !

Ken Tanaka walked so incels could run.

Jane Lynch you beauty. You absolutely impeccable beauty. 

“Since when are cheerleaders performers?” Uh... Emma...? I get that Sue’s going ham on her budget but, like, be nice to the students? They perform their butts off!

Sue really just BRAGGED about having an iPhone. I was 9 when this came out. Why do I feel old...

Sign #3 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: He hears his coworker, presumably of several years, just got fired and doesn’t even ask why. He just jumps on the glee club like a frog on hot asphalt. 

He really wants to Make The Glee Club Great Again, huh? 

MySpace was really a thing, huh? And why does this grown-ass male teacher know so much about the students having them?

I know nothing about actual American schools, but I do know that they sure as shit don’t work like this. Why does a club have to win EVERY competition to be considered an asset?

Mr Shoe really lying awake at night half-naked next to his wife thinking about the glee club already? Yeah sounds about right. Also, of course you’d think up Nude Erections for a name, you asshole. Put some clothes on.

R E S P E C T MERCEDES YES!!!

Brad the piano player was really here from day ONE... Icon.

Cellophane, Mr Cellophane... Yes Kurt bby you killed it. 

Chris Colfer looks so YOUNG here!!! 

The hair fix... I C O N I C !

Tina really wrote her stutter down, huh? And nobody ever saw through it? Amazing. 

The goth Tina look, too... Perfect... Never change...

Say what you want about Rachel Berry being generally insufferable, but I really fucking feel it when she sings On My Own. The monologue kind of kills The Drama of it, but they really solidly established her character by layering them. She really is a gold star right now.

The first-ever on-screen slushie!

The way she walks down that hall. My God you can just see how terrible she is to be around.

Never forget Rachel staring at photos of her with two men who turned out to not be her dads. Who are they? What are their stories? We’ll never know.

God, I love this stupid scene of Quinn, Santana, and a bunch of Cheerios cartoonishly typing hate comments on Rachel’s MySpace video and laughing like knock-off Disney villains. 

I like watching season 1 Artie because season 1 Artie was a good character. Mostly. And he KILLED Sit Down, You’re Rocking The Boat. Rachel wasn’t asking for a male lead who could keep up with her vocally, she was being straight up ableist and that’s a fact. I love Cory, but Kevin McHale was always a better singer.

Mercedes picking up and spinning Rachel for this little routine is something I never really appreciated before, it’s cute even though they don’t like each other yet!

I really don’t get why Rachel says they suck. Yeah, sure, she’s gunning for a solo, but the vocals were solid there. The choreo was just a little janky, possibly because it’s their first EVER rehearsal?

“There is NOTHING ironic about show choir!” Incredible.

How long did it take Mr Shoe to find Rachel out on the bleachers? Did he search the whole school first?

ARTIE! CAN! KEEP! UP! WITH! YOU! VOCALLY!

I never understood Rachel quitting so soon. How long was she in the old glee club for? Surely they were never popular either?

Ah, the first “My hands are tied” for the series. Mr Figgins is a garbage principal. 

Not going to advise the principal against referring to Artie as a cripple, William Shoestir? Alright. 

How did the Schuester marriage last as long as it has? Do Will and Terri’s insufferable personalities just cancel one another out?

Sandy Ryerson really just openly brags about cheating the system for medical marijuana and dealing it? 

Matt Morrison 100% has lip fillers. Nobody’s smile curls like that naturally.

“Terri and I are trying to get pregnant” What a weird way to phrase it. What is it, a race? Who’s going to get knocked up first!

A FIFTH OF BEETHOVEN, HOW I’VE MISSED YOU... The sound design of this show at this point is just... *Chef hand kiss*

“What you’re doing right now is called blurring the lines” Oh just wait until season 4, Sue... Just you wait.

WHY is Mr Schuester so ridiculously sweaty? I didn’t need to think about that?

EVERYONE on the football team is 30.

William Schuester you can’t just watCH TEENAGE STUDENTS SING IN THE SHOWER YOU ARE A TEACHER WHERE DID YOU GET YOUR LICENSE?! 

Hearing Cory sing this always makes me emotional. What a talent!

Sign #4 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: I don’t think I need to say why using the weed to blackmail Finn is a shitty thing to do, do I?

“I’ll pee in a cup! ...I’ll pee...” I love Cory’s delivery. 

PRIORITY #1: HELP THE KIDS Oh season 1... I love you so.

Mr Schue you WISH you were anything like Finn Hudson. You never will be.

Ah... Finn’s first monologue. He’s such a sweetheart. AND SO IS CAROLE. Carole is a queen I will stan forever. YOU THROW THAT MILK BB!!!

All Finn wants to do is make his mom proud. What a sweetheart. Mr Schue you do NOT deserve him.

These POV shots really enhance things, why the fuck did they stop using them?

Subtly having Kurt look at Finn in the same shot as Rachel was a nice touch indeed!

RACHEL WAS REALLY DOWN WITH ROLLING ARTIE RIGHT OFF THE STAGE HUH?

Terri’s a straight up hoarder, huh? Like a raccoon but instead of collecting edible garbage, it’s monogrammed garbage.

Surely you can’t just... BECOME an accountant, right? You need some serious qualifications for that right?

Also say what you want about how insufferable Terri is but her actress is ridiculously talented and absolutely steals every scene she’s in.

Now the background choir is doing Soul Bossa Nova and I am L I V I N G why didn’t they keep that motif!!! It was so ICONIC!

I don’t need my prostate removed. RIP Carole Hudson but I’m different :/

NO MEANS NO, KEN! TAKE THE L AND MOVE ON! Way to take out the fact that a girl won’t date you on everybody else around you! Toxic bastard. The absolute stench of melodrama on this bastard is noxious.

I was going to ask why Rachel didn’t know about Finn and Quinn if they’d already been together for 4 months, but then I remembered gossiping requires friends...

“Terri rides me. Hard. And I’ve always appreciated it!” Why don’t we talk about how this line sounds more. Why doesn’t Emma bat an eye at it oh my god

HERE COMES VOCAL ADRENALINE!!! And Jesse St. James is nowhere to be seen. How convenient. Also, they’re all 30. I’m sensing a pattern.

Sorry VA, all songs popularised my Amy Winehouse legally belong to Santana Lopez

Puck, if you were stupid enough to fall for the prostate excuse, that’s on you. Or maybe it’s on the education system...

You can do better that Mr Schue, kids. Don’t mourn him.

Ok, what the fuck is this scene where he’s filling out the job app to become an accountant? There’s a dude in the row in front off him just throwing crisps around? What is this place?? Why are you here sir??? 

“Accounting is sexy” shut up you horrible married man

The Cheerios sure did have straight ponytails for like, one episode, huh?

Finn is such a good boy. He doesn’t know it yet, but he is, and saving Artie from that portapotty is his first step to figuring it out.

This shot of Finn just wheeling Artie out of there... Ugh. My HEART.

KURT WHAT ARE THOSE LAYERS? SWEATER SHIRT SWEATER? HELLO???

Pee balloons. Nailing the lawn furniture to the roof. Finn, you’re better than that!!! Stop your dudebros. 

They really had Artie be a guitar player, and a pretty good one at that, but they never mentioned it again? Artie had such potential SMH. (Also, Netflix subtitles are telling me it’s Arty, but I categorically refuse to spell it that way.)

Whyyyyy didn’t he go to KURT for the costumes as well? Look at his outfit, Finn. He clearly wants in on that job. 

Will Schuester really is just desperately clinging to his glory days in high school. I’d feel bad for him if he wasn’t such a creep about it. 

Emma, meaningfully: Do you know who that is? That’s you, Will... [FRANTIC DISCO MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND]

I find it hilarious how the audio of Don’t Stop Believin’ just DOES NOT match the characters except for the solos... Also wow, autotune city. Am I awful for genuinely not liking this cover? 

I like watching them perform it though. Kurt’s adorable little shimmy... Rachel and Tina smiling at each other like that... Everybody having a blast... I’m here for it

LOOK AT MY BABIES TILTING THOSE MIC STANDS...

Ok the way Rachel and Finn look at each other here is making me FEEL

I know Puck’s about to join anyway but WHY is he there watching... Just to have a mysterious bad boy moment? Lol you dramatic bastard

Please let them win nationals without you, Will.

So, yeah! There’s that! Those are my thoughts and feelings, basic though they may be. Episode one is fantastic, the kids are fantastic, and William Schuester can suck a toe. 

[mermist-uh]

Tagged by @seahawkofficial​ uwu

1. Named after anyone?

Well, my first name is after one of the Queen’s of England, though it’s my middle name that I go by. My dad says that my mom just rattled off Vietnamese names until they found one he could pronounce semi-okay, my mom says I was named after a Vietnamese supermodel. Hey, better than my sister who was named after Mulan (true story by the way).

2. Last time you cried?

uhhhhh probably watching the buzzfeed unsolved episode about vincent van gogh. i am very empathetic and sympathetic. but to be honest, i haven’t really cried much this semester which is a good change compared to last semester. it was ruff.

3. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

You know, the wicked cool side of me wants to say yes, but in truth, I think I am very dry in the sarcasm department. I’m not saying I don’t use it at all, but I’m not slinging it around like stones.  

4. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Usually how much of a conversationalist they are. You know, I do nails and that can be a long process when you’re shut up and quiet, but the most important part is making the customer happy, so I usually pick up if they want to keep the convo going, or if they just want their nails painted in peace. 

In a non-professional environment though, I’d have to say someone’s smile :) I like to smile myself so being greeted first thing with a grin makes meeting someone all the while. 

5. Scary movie or happy ending?

First of all, I’m a big baby. The first and only scary movie I have seen is Freddy vs. Jason or something like that. I was 6, the babysitter’s granddaughters sucked, and I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. So, yeah. Happy endings. (spoiler alert: endgame can fight me and owes me three days for the moping i did afterwards)

6. Where were you born?

yeehaw. not a texas yeehaw but like sweet tea and vinegar-based barbecue yeehaw.

7. What are your hobbies?

I am a proud 18-year-old grandma. My hobbies include: sewing, knitting, quilting, doing nails, cooking, baking, making preserves and jams, gardening, tending my chickens, fermenting, pickling, cleaning my stupid kitchen because no one in my family knows what order is, crafting, couponing, shopping (the grocery kind), planning parties, planning the menu for parties, and buying people gifts. I like buying presents for people, it’s a problem. I dislike how people only expect presents twice a year, on their birthday and Christmas, so I usually just get or make my friends things. 

8. Do you have any pets?

:))) I have a stupid cat named Cat, 13 chickens (one being Tumblr famous for some reason), and three itty bitty baby quails. I used to have two parakeets, two hamsters (both at separate times, one being a zombie), and my dad had a pet raccoon. That was before I was born, but the raccoon was named Rachel and cleaned the toilet for the family. 

9. What sports do you/have you played?

I took skating lessons when I was a wee lass but stopped because we didn’t have enough time. When given the option between hockey and dance, I stupidly chose dance though my thicc frame would have dominated hockey. Ended up quitting dance three years later because I was unhappy and not limber. I still regret not joining hockey, I would have been so buff. 

10. Favorite subject in school?

I loved math ‘til I failed Calc 2 last semester (passed it this semester with a B, boys!). I reeeeally enjoy world history because I love learning about the world. I don’t know, I associate favorite subjects with subjects I do the best in, so I find the question difficult to answer because I suffer from Dumb Bitch Disease. 

11. Dream job?

Hnnnn depends on my mood. Currently, I am aiming for a skincare/cosmetic business owner, but I will also take free-lance nail artist, (respected) actress, kitten foster mother, just being paid by instagram to be cool, I will also take model but like for a year. The dream though is a self-sustaining witch in the woods whose cottage is very homie and children visit me to learn how to prevent and reverse climate change.

12. Favorite SPOP Episode?

Anything with Sea Hawk and Mermista in it. Except season 2 episode 5. You know what you did.

Tagging: hnnn i don’t know i don’t have many friends on here which is unfortunate because i love making friends so i extend the game to all of you i love you mwah stay safe and make good choices

[cosmiicorvid]

fucking all of them

you absolute fool.

(1) Do You Sleep With Your Closet Doors Open Or Closed?

I keep it a little cracked open because my cat likes to sleep in there for whatever reason.

(2) Do You Have Freckles?

No but I want some.

(3) Can You Whistle?

Yeah but it’s nothing good. Just basic whistling.

(4) Last Song You Listened To.

Shut Eye

(5) What Is Your Favourite Colour?

Purple, yellow, and red

(6) Relationship Status.

Taken by @sketchyskittles-png

(7) What Is The Temperature Right Now?

51 Fahrenheit. OH MY GOD FAHRENHEIT FIFTY ONE– I’M…

(8) Did You Wake Up Cranky?

It usually depends how much sleep I get, but not really, no.

(9) How Many Followers?

986

(10) Zodiac Sign.

Aries

(11) What Is Your Eye Colour?

Like a chocolate brown.

(12) Take A Vitamin Daily?

nah

(13) Do You Sing In The Shower?

Who doesn’t?

(14) What Books Are You Reading?

I haven’t touched a book in a while and i kind of feel bad. I wanna start reading something but idk what

(15) Grab The Book Nearest To You, Turn To Page 64, Give Me Line 14.

I would but i’m really lazy and tired

(16) Favourite Anime?

My life

(17) Last Person You Cried In Front Of?

I don’t really remember. Maybe my mom?

(18) Do You Collect Anything?

I collect enamel pins

(19) What Did You Have For Lunch?

Texas de Brazil uwu

(20) Do You Dance In The Car?

Only if I’m forced to

(21) Favourite Animal?

Cheetahs and Raccoons

(22) Do You Watch The Olympics?

Not really unless something interesting happens i guess

(23) What Time Do You Usually Go To Bed?

I don’t have a concept of time. It varies from moment to moment.

(24) Are You Wearing Makeup Right Now?

Nah mate

(25) Do You Prefer To Swim In A Pool Or The Ocean?

Pool, but i don’t really like either but oh whale

(26) Favourite Tumblr Blog?

The person reading this

(27) Bottled Water Or Tap Water?

Either is fine with me

(28) What Makes You Happy?

Friends

(29) Post A Gif Of What You’re Currently Feeling Right Now.

(30) Do You Study Better With Or Without Music?

If there aren’t any words, then i can listen to music.

(31) Dogs Or Cats?

Why not both?

(32) If You Were A Crayon What Colour Would You Be?

Purble

(33) PlayStation Or Xbox.

Playstation only because the controller is easier for my tiny hands to hold

(34) Would You Swim In The Lake Or Ocean?

I mean i would but i don’t want to

(35) Do You Believe In Magic?

I wish I did.

(36) What Colour Shirt Are You Wearing?

Grey and blue

(37) Can You Curl Your Tongue?

nah

(38) Do You Save Money Or Spend It?

Spend spend spend spend spend spe-

(39) Is There Anything Pink Within 10 Feet Of You?

Nope

(40) Do You Have Any Obsessions Right Now?

Cookie run

(41) Have You Ever Caught A Butterfly?

nnnop

(42) Are You Easily Influenced By Other People?

y,,,yea

(43) Do You Have Strange Dreams?

I have!!! The weirdest dreams! I tend to use the dreams i have and make a story out of it though so i don’t hate it.

(44) Do You Like Going On Airplanes?

Sure, it’s aight

(45) Name One Movie That Made You Cry.

The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part.

(46) Peanuts Or Sunflower Seeds?

Sunflower seeds

(47) If I Handed You A Concert Ticket Right Now, Who Would You Want The Performer To Be?

Either Set it Off or P!ATD

(48) Are You A Picky Eater?

I used to think i was but i’m really not

(49) Are You A Heavy Sleeper?

very.

(50) Do You Fear Thunder / Lightning?

I love thunder but i hate lightning

(51) Do You Like To Read / Write?

I love doing both

(52) Do You Like Your Music Loud?

If i’m in a mood? absolutely.

(53) Would You Rather Carve Pumpkins Or Wrap Presents?

I’ve never carved a pumpkin so idk

(54) Put Your Music On Shuffle, What Is The First Song That Came Up?

Battle Symphony - Linkin Park

(55) What Season Are You In Right Now? (Weather)

Winter but like… almost spring

(56)What Are You Craving Right Now?

Tfufjkcing fucking tuna salad……

(57) Post A Screenshot Of Your Tumblr Feed.

I’m lazy.

(58) What Is Your Gender?

Oh y’know…. [REDACTED]

(59) Coffee Or Tea?

Coffee

(60) Do You Have Any Homework Right Now? If So, What Is It About?

Nop

(61) What Is Your Sexuality?

Oh y’know… [REDACTED] (pan)

(62) Do You Make Your Bed In The Morning?

rarely

(63) Favourite Pokemon?

MOTHER

FUCKING

CYNDAQUIL

(64) Favourite Social Media?

Discord ig

(65) What’s Your Opinion On Instagram Stories?

Don’t have one

(66) Do You Get Homesick?

yeahhhhh

(67) Are You A Virgin?

I don’t know, am I? (yes the answer is yes)

(68) What Shampoo And Conditioner Are You Using Right Now?

Egg yolk

(69) If You Were Far From Home And Needed To Sleep For The Night, Would You Choose To Rent A Crappy Motel Room For $60 Or Sleep In Your Car For Free?

Probably my car unless the weather was bad

(70) Are Both Of Your Blood Parents Still In Your Life?

ye

(71)  Whats The Next Movie You Want To See In Theaters?

Captain Marvel! I was supposed to see it saturday but we had to cancel.

(72) Do You Miss Your Ex?

My ex is one of my friends so like? I miss hanging out with them but I don’t really miss the relationship cause yknow… [redacted]

(73) What Is Your Favourite Quote Right Now?

“I ate my grandma”

(74)  What Eye Colour Do You Find Sexiest?

Mmn…… light blue is pretty, or grey. But it doesn’t matter that much to me

(75) Did You Like Swinging As A Child? Do You Still Get Excited When You See A Swing Set?

Yes and yes. It’s the only good thing in life

(76) What Was The Last Thing You Ate?

Chocolate cake

(77) What Games Do You Have On Your Phone?

Cookie run and Bitlife

(78) Would You Give A Homeless Person CPR If They Were Dying? Why Or Why Not?

I mean i don’t really know how to professionally do CPR so idk

(79) Been On The Computer For 5 Hours Straight?

No! It’s only been like an hour. But yes i’ve been on for 5 hours at some point

(80) Stalked Someone On A Social Network?

yye

(81) Do You Like Meeting New People?

sure

(82) Do You Wear Rings? If You Do, Take A Picture Of Them.

No

(83) Do You Sleep With Your Bedroom Door Open Or Closed?

closed

(84) What Are Three Things You Did Today?

I went to a restaurant, i wrote some stuff, idk it was a slow day

(85) What Do You Wear To Bed?

Ssmmnonft oajamdas

(86) List All Of Your Different Beauty Products You Have Right Now.

My face

(87) Are You A Day Or Night Person?

Im a night person babey

(88) List All Of Your Video Games On Your Phone, Console Etc.

I can’t think of any right now but uhh…. Pokemone eevee, smash, and mario kart i know for sure

(89) Tell Me About A Dream That You Had And When It Happened.

There was this dream when i was a kid about this guy who would kill you if he saw your breath by cutting your forehead off with a laser

(90) Favourite Soda Drink?

Dr. pepper

(91) What Sounds Are Your Favourite?

Thunder storms

(92) Do You Wear Jeans Or Sweats More?

jeans

(93) How Do You Look Right Now?

Tired

(94) Name Something That Relaxes You.

Sometimes complete silence and darkness

(95) What Tattoo Do You Want?

I want a tattoo of some type of heart, but that’s really all i know. Maybe i should do an actual heart… that would be cool.

(96) Favourite YouTuber?

Jacksepridceye

[d0gdaze]

since we’ve no place to go (let it snow)

Read on AO3

One Shot

Pairing: Richie Tozier / Stan Uris

Warnings: swearing, brief mention of suicide by christmas decorations

Word Count: 2495

There were ten reasons why Richie Tozier was not having a good day.

First, he woke up too late, and had to pack his suitcase for a two week long trip in the span of five minutes. Sure, this could have been prevented by making sure his alarms were set for AM and not PM, and yeah, he could have packed his suitcase sometime during the week and not the day he was supposed to leave, but hindsights 20/20.

Second, it was snowing, and the pavement outside his housing complex was slippery, and in his hurry to get to the curb and hail a taxi, he fell flat on his arse in front of approximately seventy onlookers. Again, preventable, he shouldn't have been wearing keds in winter. But again, hindsight.

Third, his phone in his back pocket broke his fall, but also broke the screen. Preventable, maybe. Mental note to not put his phone in his back pocket anymore.

Fourth, even after witnessing his bad luck, some forty-something in a business suit shoved him and got in the taxi he had hailed down, blatantly ignoring his pleas, and then the string of curse words he directed at him. Less preventable, assholes are assholes.

Fifth, Los Angeles holiday season traffic is ruthless. Absolutely unpreventable.

Sixth, when he finally did get to the airport, thinking he had just enough time to make his flight if he was willing to sprint for it, the perky blonde at the baggage check informed him his flight had been cancelled due to weather. Not his fault in the slightest.

Seventh, when he got back to his complex, he slipped. Again. He'd blame it on the wind.

Eighth, when he finally, finally got back up to his flat, he found the door locked, and his keys nowhere on his person. Okay, that was on him.

Ninth, when he called the locksmith, they were closed. Surely way too important a service to close during the holidays, right?

Tenth, but going by his current streak, probably not the last, was that his neighbour saw him crying.

His uptight, clean cut, turn-your-music-off-it's-nine-pm neighbour, after parking his car and taking his eco-friendly recyclable bags of groceries out of the boot, saw him sat on his doorstep with a suitcase, the day before Christmas, absolutely bawling his eyes out. And he did nothing but raise a perfectly manicured eyebrow, and went inside, leaving him to freeze and starve and die.

Not that it was surprising.

Richie knew wholeheartedly that he was a less than ideal neighbour. He was loud, he had guests over often (loud guests, guests with alcohol and an affinity for karaoke), he let his mail pile up in the letterbox until you couldn't fit anything else in there, he only took out his trash when it was actually overflowing (and attracting raccoons), he left his outside lights on, and he liked confrontation. And his neighbour provided just that.

Stanley Uris – or Stanthony, as nobody but Richie referred to him as – was a good neighbour. He kept to himself, when he had get-togethers with guests they were dignified and respectful and everyone left before midnight, and he made sure the outside of his house and anywhere people could see into his house was kept clean and presentable. He was the kind of neighbour to wave at you across the complex as he left for work, or offer to feed your cats when you went away. His mail never piled up, and his trash definitely didn't.

Richie did not like Stanley Uris.

Stanley Uris did not like Richie.

It was a good arrangement, he thought, mutual hatred. Better than unrequited hatred, he figured.

He sat, sobbing, his face and feet and stupidly ungloved hands feeling near frozen, until his sobbing was replaced by sniffling, and then silence. Sweet, miserable, lonely fucking silence.

His eyes drifted upwards, to the fairy lights he had hung off the roof in a last minute attempt to feel festive – it didn't work, Christmas still sucked – and wondered, briefly, if they would hold up his body weight. He was unsure whether that was because he planned on climbing them to get onto his roof (which would serve no purpose whatsoever, he lived in a one story house and there were no upstairs windows), or if his subconscious was telling him to hang himself with christmas decorations.

Honestly? The latter seemed more likely.

He mulled it over in his head, weighing out the pros and cons. The list looked something like:

Pros: will probably get on the news, won't have to deal with this bullshit anymore.

Cons: death sounds unappealing, don't know how to tie a noose.

He could hear his neighbour's front door opening, then closing, then footsteps crunching in the snow that sounded like they were coming towards him. Then they stopped. Then silence, as he continued to stare thoughtfully at the string of lights above his head. He ignored the fact that Stanthony was standing in his peripheral, apparently waiting for him to respond in some way.

“Why are you sitting out here?” Stan's voice was deadpan, because he didn't actually care about the answer, obviously.

“What's it to you?” Richie's reply came, snappy and borderline childish. He didn't drop his upward gaze. His neck was starting to hurt.

“You locked yourself out.” He sounded more annoyed than anything, as if Richie sitting on his own doorstep minding his own damn business inconvenienced him in some way.

“No.” Richie lied. His neck was really starting to hurt.

“Then why?”

“Maybe I just want to be out here, ever think of that?”

“You're an asshole.” “I know you are but what am I?”

Stan huffed. Richie finally gave in to the pain and dropped his head, finally looking at Stan. He was wearing a light grey coat with a darker grey scarf, and black jeans. He looked boring. As always.

“Love the colours, really brings out your personality,” Richie snickered at his own joke. Stan's expression didn't change.

“Better than what you're wearing, at least I don't look like a toddler that dressed itself.”

Richie looked down at himself, bright blue snow jacket unzipped over a green and red christmas sweater. He didn't think he looked that bad, actually.

“What do you even want?” he asked in place of a comeback.

Stan bit the inside of his cheek, squinting slightly. Richie could practically see the gears turning in his head.

He didn't answer, instead, he grabbed the handle of the suitcase and turned on his heel, back in the direction of his own flat. Richie shot up from his seat, tailbone aching.

“OI,” he yelled, hobbling after him, “You're stealing my shit now? Is that what we're doing?”

Stan stopped, turning around with an unamused expression. It looked the same as his regular expression.

“Dipshit,” he spat, “do you want the couch or not?”

“What?” Richie asked, dumbfounded. Stan rolled his eyes. “I mean, you can sleep on your fucking doorstep if you want. I don't give a shit. Or you can have the couch.”

“Oh.”

Stan continued walking, trailing the suitcase behind him. Richie followed.

The inside of Stan's house was not very surprising. Richie had hoped that if he ever did get to see it, there would be something at least a little interesting about it. But no. It was clean, and tidy, and all the furniture matched. Disgusting.

“Shoes off,” Stan instructed, having left his own boots just outside the front door. He toed off his thoroughly soaked keds and left them in the doorway. “Jacket, off,” he continued, pointing a finger towards him with a scowl on his face, as if he were a diseased animal. Richie rolled his eyes, shrugging the item off and holding it out in front of him.

“Now what?”

“Coat rack,” Stan nodded his head towards the opposite wall, to the line of hooks next to the front door.

“Yes sir.” Richie shuffled over and hung his coat up.

“Don't walk like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that. Pick your feet up when you walk.”

“You're really bossy, you know that?”

Stan scoffed.

“You're a dick.”

“You're a dick.”

“You're insufferable.”

“Why invite me over, then?”

“I was being nice,” Stan folded his arms across his chest, “I'm starting to regret it.”

“Then I'll leave.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Richie exhaled sharply, not making any motion to actually leave. An awkward staring contest of sorts ensued, until he ended it with a sigh. He shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a look around the room.

“No decorations, huh?”

“I don't celebrate.”

“Oh?” Richie started wandering around, inspecting little details. Stan's eyes tracked him into the kitchen. “Religious reasons? Or do you just think it's all a waste of time?”

“Both.”

Richie hummed, opening an overhead cabinet. Grey bowls, next to grey mugs. Coordinated kitchenware. Figures.

“Don't touch anything.” Stan came up behind him and didn't-quite-slam the cabinet shut. Richie held his hands up in surrender, then moved to open the next cabinet along the line.

“Do you actually live here? Because this place looks like it's out of a brochure. You're too tidy.”

Stan closed the newly opened cabinet as Richie moved onto the silverware drawers.

“I like tidy.”

Richie hummed again. The silverware drawer was in much the same shape as the cabinets, that was to say, meticulous.

“So whaddya do for a living Stanthony?”

“Don't,” he pushed the drawer closed.

“Don't what?”

“Call me that.”

“Why?” Richie asked, taking a step closer to him, and pushing his glasses up his nose, “that's your name, isn't it?”

“Out,” Stan held firm, poking Richie's chest with one finger, “of my kitchen.”

Richie smirked, backing away, instead setting his sights on the small living area.

“I work in an accounting firm,” Stan said after a moment.

“Pssh,” Richie pssh'd, “boring.”

“What do you do then? If that's so boring.”

“Television.”

“Television?”

“Mm.”

“Elaborate.”

“I work at a station.”

“Doing what?”

Richie shrugged, picking a gardening magazine up off the coffee table and dropping it back down again. Stan hurried over to re-straighten it.

“Stuff.”

“You're doing my head in.”

“Yep.”

Richie gave up on the game he had been playing, choosing to retire to the couch. It was decievingly uncomfortable. “Damn, your sofa's like a fucking rock,” he groaned, arching his back. His tailbone really fucking hurt.

Stan sat down on the opposite end, sitting up properly, a stark contrast to how Richie had starfished himself. Richie was, for the umpteenth time that evening, not even the least bit surprised.

“It's good for your posture.”

“Who needs posture?”

“You, obviously.”

Richie rolled his eyes. Stan picked up the remote from the table, switching the flatscreen in front of them on. He started flicking through channels.

“So, what are we watching?”

“Depends what's on.”

Every channel was playing damn christmas movies. Stan huffed, seeming to settle on a random channel, replacing the remote carefully.

“What's this?” Richie asked.

“Don't know.”

“It's a christmas film.”

“Obviously.”

They watched in silence for god knows how long. Said christmas film turned out to be The Santa Clause, with Tim Allen, and Stan looked unimpressed the entire time.

“It doesn't make sense,” he finally spoke up about three quarters into the movie, nose wrinkled slightly, “one guy travelling to every single house on earth overnight and, what, just breaking in? Leaving shit under a tree? Who would ever believe that? Why put trees indoors?”

Richie quirked an eyebrow and shrugged.

“I dunno, kids like it, I guess.”

“I would be concerned if I knew there was a random old man breaking into my house. And why use the chimney?”

“Because he lands on the roof.”

“Why not just leave the stuff at the front door? Would save a hell of a lot of time.”

“Oh yeah, hey kids, let's go see what Santa left at the front door!” Richie's voice went high pitched and mocking. He laughed at himself. Stan's brow creased.

“It's stupid. And why don't the adults believe in him? Where do they think the presents come from?”

“That, my friend, is the million dollar question.”

They continued watching, and the film ended, and the next one started. Richie stretched and let out a long, drawn out yawn, then stood up.

“So, what're you cooking for dinner, Stanthony?”

“Nothing, if you don't stop with that fucking nickname.”

“Okay, Staniel.”

“Nope.”

“Stan the man.”

“No way.”

Richie sighed, drawing it out into a groan.

“Stanley.”

Stan looked up, smug look on his face. “Yes, Richard?”

“Where's the bathroom? I gotta take a piss.”

Stan threw a pillow at him, pelting him square in the face.

Ten things happened that night that made Richie feel a little less like hanging himself with Christmas decorations.

First, Stan made pizza. He didn't let Richie in the kitchen, of course, but he did let him point out which toppings to go on his half.

“No bacon?”

“I'm Jewish, asshat, no bacon.”

Second, Stan had wine in his fridge. He made Richie use a coaster, but that was hardly a hassle.

Third, tipsy Stan was a lot less uptight, and a lot more giggly. He loosened up on the insults and orders and actually laughed at Richie's jokes. Well, some of them, anyway. Still an accomplishment in Richie's book.

Fourth, they watched about five awful christmas movies, and complained through all of them.

“That's not even fucking mistletoe. They're kissing under a bunch of leaves.”

“Stan, you know your plants?”

“I was a boy scout.” “NO WAY.”

Five, wine-drunk Stan liked to talk about birds. A lot. A lot, a lot. More than any one person should ever know.

Six, Stan let Richie into the kitchen to make them both hot chocolate.

“With the marshmallows!”

“YOU HAVE MARSHMALLOWS?”

“What am I, Amish? 'Course I got marshmallows.”

Seven, Stan's pyjama pants were bright green and printed with little white birds. Richie just about died and went to heaven.

Eight, when Richie asked why Stan hated him, he replied:

“I never hated you. I thought you were kinda cute.”

“Whoa, really?”

“Yeah, until you egged my fucking house.”

“Hey, I was drunk. I thought it was Mr. Stevenson's house.”

“Oh, fair. He's a dick.” “Right?”

Nine, very wine-drunk Stan liked to sing.

“I really can't stay~”

“Y'know, for a Jewish guy, you're really into Christmas music.” “I've got to – singwithme – go away~”

“No.”

“This evening has been~”

“You're plastered, aren't you?”

“So very ni- IT'S A DUET RICHARD, SING WITH MEEEEEE-”

Ten, Stan fell asleep on the couch at three am. Richie carried him to bed, and had to physically pry his fingers from their death grip on his shirt. He whined – fucking whined – when Richie finally freed himself and he dropped back against the pillows. It took about five seconds before he was softly snoring away. Richie let himself smile at the sight before retreating to the living room.

He felt happy. On Christmas. Gross.

Perma Tag List: @reddie-to-go @reddietofall @thecastlebyers

[bagelblossom]

Peach Pie (Quicksilver Fanfiction)

Warning: Swearing

Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12666640/1/Peach-Pie

                                                       Chapter 1

                                               Strangers in the Night 

I was exhausted, I sighed heavily as I dragged the damp cream rag across a sticky worktop. School had been intense with exam season at it’s peak. When I wasn’t revising I was working, it was another night shift and coffee was the only thing getting me through it.

The Diner was quiet with only a couple of middle aged workers clearly enjoying a break at the diner. Though I relished in the quiet ambience of the restaurant and the smooth tones of Paul Anka’s Diana I found myself wincing as the dull pounding of my fingers became more apparent. I peeled off the latex gloves I was wearing to focus on the source of my discomfort. I flexed my hands, the usually healthy fingernails had darkened and looked mottled and infected - a stark contrast to my skin.

 I felt my heart race as I continued to inspect my hands. What the hell even is this? You’d think my hands had caught the plague or something. It was near impossible to get an appointment with the school nurse due to flu season but I would definitely need to get it checked out soon.

“You okay Lyla?” questioned the older woman her blonde hair pinned into a bun and bright red lips quirked into a friendly smile.

“Yeah fine thanks, Wish this shift would go quicker though” I replied swiftly tugging the gloves back onto my hands hiding the revolting sight and flashing the older women a reassuring grin. Maria was amazing, kind as she was humble she was actually a pretty amazing boss.

 “Tell me about it kid, I’ve got the biggest bar of chocolate when this shift has finished” gushed the Maria as she pushed a fresh cup of coffee into my hands.  

The chime of the doorbell caught our attention and I resisted the urge groan. My vice like grip on the mug increased and I looked at Marie in an pleading manner. Her expression was one of a mischievous imp and she clucked her tongue. “You can take this one, he looks like a cutie” she giggled (though in my mind it seemed more like a cackle) as she pretended to be busy with sorting cutlery. “Fab” I replied grabbing my pad and pen. “Go forth my loyal employee” she muttered as I passed by her. I snorted and tightened my cream apron quickly switching into waitress mode. I walked over to the now occupied table barely looking at the guy more focused on the pad in my hands.

The quicker I do this order the quicker I can go back to my coffee. Keeping my gaze firmly on the pad in my hands I could hear the customers’ fingers thrumming swiftly on the table in an impatient manner. Great another cocky customer who thinks the service is never quick enough.

“Hi welcome to Bonnie’s how can I help you today?” I recited attempting to put some energy into my voice yet failing slightly. The reply was silence forcing me to make eye contact with the individual. I soon found myself staring into the eyes of Peter Maximoff.

Well Shit.

“Do I know you?” he questioned his dazed features shifting back into a usual smug confident one. Double crap I didn’t mean for his name to slip out.

“Nope nope never met ever, at all, not once, no” I choked out eager to escape his gaze. He slouched back in the seat his eyes taking in my clearly haggard appearance.

 “But you know me?” he replied his eyebrow quirking and that smug smile returning. Did I know him? Of course I knew him, lets be honest who didn’t? No one ever said Peter Maximoff without the word trouble following not too far behind. He was the classic mix of class clown and troublemaker. We only shared a few classes but luckily due to his lack of attendance and my head down and focus on work attitude our paths never met. I’d heard the stories, oh yes I knew all about his kleptomaniac tendencies and total lack of respect for authoritarian figures but I wasn’t about to let him know that.

“Nope you just look like a Peter” I chirped flashing a large smile which must of seemed more like a grimace. “So what can I get you?” I continued desperately hoping he would order something and let me leave.

 “I look like a Peter?” He chuckled his slouched position becoming even more sprawled as if he was some sort of royalty and I was his personal court jester.

“Yeah, must be the grey hair, you know it’s distinguishable”  

“Your hair is pink”

“Its actually strawberry blonde” I countered feeling my body flush in embarrassment.

“Okay peach if you want to be technical”

The tension was palpable I glanced at Maria who looked like the cat who got cream.  Deciding to put an end to this verbal tennis match I cleared my throat.

“Right so what can I get you?” I forced out resisting the urge to smack the cocky look off his face.

“Yeah er hm choices choices-” he muttered his eyes glanced at the menu behind the salt and pepper shakers.

 “I recommend the-“

“-Peach Pie” he interrupted with a wink. I mentally stopped myself from throwing myself out the window and grunted an ‘okay’ while writing the order in my most aggressive penmanship.

“And a chocolate milkshake” he added nodding his head.

“Is that everything Sir?” I emphasized the sir hoping he’d get the clue and let me sort his order.

“Yepp” he smiled at me his leg shaking up and down quickly.

I gave him my most passive aggressive grin back and went to get his order. I could of probably cut his cake less aggressively but It did calm me to imagine It was his smug face instead.

I aggressively slammed his plate down on his table along with his milkshake. It gave me some satisfaction to notice him flinch slightly but this was soon masked once again by his fat ego.

“Thanks Sweet cheeks” he purred in what he thought was probably a smooth move but only sent my blood pressure climbing further.  I turned away so quickly I nearly gave myself whiplash to get away from the troublemaker.

About an hour went by and luckily aside from the occasional lingering glances Peter had got the hint and seemed to focus more on his milkshake.

Maria of course thought this was hilarious and continued to throw coy glances at me. The neon lights of the diner ached my eyes and the pain in my fingers hadn’t decreased. Overall I was totally done.

“Soooo- when do you get off” a voice spoke to my left. I physically jumped and turned to look at the source of my distress to see Peter leaning against the main diner table looking ahead in what he must of thought was an edgy look.

“Not for a while” I murmured pretending to be nonchalant. Perhaps if I could discourage his attention he would get bored and find a new toy.

“You can go now if you want sweetie” spoke Maria from a couple of tables away. She seemed to not notice the table she was cleaning was already clean thus not even hiding her interest. Subtle Marie.

 I nearly choked on my own spit to be honest when she said that and had to cover up a pained cough. “Wha-what?!?” I spluttered out my eyes looking at her in a wild manner urging her to frankly zip it.

 “Mmhmm you can go now you’ve worked hard enough, off you pop home now get some rest” she chirped a commanding hand on her hip.

 “Great I’ll walk you home” Peter chirped up ignoring my wild eyes and white knuckles. Usually Maria would drive me home at the end of a shift but since she was evidently throwing me to the wolves I clearly had no choice.

“Sure Thanks” I sighed in defeat I quickly went into the back and grabbed my coat.  Huffing as I buttoned it up I shouted a bye to Maria I swiftly grabbed Peters jacket and aggressively tugged. “C’mon lets go” I muttered avoiding Peters wide eyes and stumble as he followed me.

 The air was cold and I found myself resisting the urge to shiver. It had only just turned October and I was already wishing for summer to return. The walk home was mostly silent. The only noise being the odd car that passed and the rustle of raccoons searching through bins. I desperately hoped he couldn’t hear my wheezing as I walked at my quickest pace, him of course matching my steps with relative ease. I caught him glancing at me a couple of times and hesitating to speak, obviously my straight forward glaring hinted I didn’t want to talk. Before long we were stood outside of my house, the porch light remained on knowing my parents expected me home this late. My heart warmed at the thought of knowing my bed and bunny slippers were so close. True love.

 “So this is me so er thanks I guess” I spoke with the underlying hint for him to leave. Yeah thanks I guess considering I wasn’t really left with much choice.

“Cool” he grinned his eyes bright with mirth and hands tucked in a horrendous silver jacket.

“Well…bye” I turned around and went to go up the steps to my house when I heard him quickly inhale and shout.

“I actually hate Peach pie”

What? That stopped me in my tracks. I looked over my shoulder at him to see him nervously rubbing the back of his neck looking at the cement steps I was stood on.

“But you ordered it?” I questioned my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Y-yeah” He sighed “Stupid huh” he chuckled looking at me.

The silence continued for a few minutes and he turned away to begin his journey home.

“Well you should try our apple pie next time” I called the words leaving my mouth without permission.

He froze and swiftly turned back round to stare into my brown eyes.

“Next time?” he questioned a teasing tone clear in his voice.

I felt my body heat up and heart begin to race.

"Or not, whatever" I snapped rushing into my house. Sadly I didn't shut my door fast enough to avoid hearing the chuckle that left his mouth.

I lightly ran up the stairs of my house and threw my bag and coat onto my bed. The action probably more aggressive than i meant it to be. I swiftly entered the bathroom ready to put this day to rest and get ready for bed. The only thoughts I could muster while brushing my teeth were simply. Stupid Peter. Stupid Pie. Stupid smile. Stupid.

I washed my hands and cleansed my face all the while thinking of ways to avoid him at the diner or school. I had to admit though his presence had been one of annoyance he had distracted me from the length of the shift and the pain in my fingers.

Yeah an annoying but a welcome distraction. "Stupid" I murmured knowing that at least I could relax now. My bed was extremely close and my pyjamas felt like the softest cotton. Yes no more stress I reached my quota of the day. It was then when I looked down at the porcelain bowl of the sink I found that one of my nails had fallen off.

Shit.

[writtenoutmell]

In my head, it’s like a whirlwind of thoughts. None of them cohesive. Every one making less sense than the last. I don’t know where to start, and if I don’t know where to start, where does it end?  I can’t keep one thought in my head long enough to get any idea where it’s going. 

The only thing only thing I can keep in my head is that I need a change. I to change. Not for anyone, but for myself. I don’t like the fact that I don’t do the things I used to. I don’t like that I don’t go to local shows. But it’s also hard to find bands where I’m from that are in the punk scene. It’s all heavy or country. I’ll take heavy over country, don’t get me wrong, but my biggest thing are the areas of punk rock. Indie bands who write their own music. 

The bands I miss are on a long list. Many of whom we met between Watertown and Canton. One we met in Herkimer, and it’s honestly a night I won’t forget. That night: doing my stats homework in the back of the Durango on the way down; the bands; the weirdo at the gas station; the horse too close to the road; the crazy raccoon running at the vehicle; soooooooo many cookies!

I miss that. I miss going to shows. I miss hanging with the bands and getting to know them as people. Music was my thing, and I don’t know why I ever let it stop. I don’t know why I didn’t just continue on my own. Why did I stop? The the hell did I stop?

I miss seeing Honor Bright; Lacerda; ROSEDALE; Lights Out Dancing; The Doppler Effect; Greene Reveal; Young and Divine, and soooo many more that Bruce would bring in to Canton or that would be in Watertown. Fall Ball through AP was a blast! And I would do it again. Warped Tour? Hell yes! There were so many bands I missed because they over lapped with other bands I was dying to see (Mainly Simple Plan), and I would love to see them live. Grayscale, The Maine.... those are just a couple. 

I’ve been trying to find some concert dates in Montreal or Toronto for some of the bands I want to see. 

Fairshake is making their way up the east coast soon, which makes me happy, and I’m trying to get them in Potsdam, or at least close. I want to meet Shayne in person, because we’ve been talking online, and Shayne is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever talked to. 

I want to see Mainsail. I would love to see Closer to Zero again. I’ve recently come to love You Jump, i Jump (seemingly too late as he is now the drummer for The Ataris, but I’d love to see The Ataris as well). Cascadent is another band I’d love to see live. 

Panic! At The Disco, Fall Out Boy, Marianas Trench? Yes please! I’d love to see Mayday Parade and Set Your Goals again. And I am so missing the hangouts we used to have with JP, Joe and Jake (Young and Divine). Mike May (TDE) stealing my phone to talk to Colleen. Talking with Milenko (Lacerda). The awkward first moment with Danny trying to take my hand while he was singing (LOD). I miss making friends. I made so many friends like Ali, and Kara, and Dustina when we went to those shows. I met so many people. And now, I’m afraid of the new staff coming into the building. That the hell is up with that?

Long story short: I miss concerts and local shows. I miss that person. And I’m trying to get back to that person, and to build from there. 

I do love hockey as well. I’ve become slightly addicted over the last couple of seasons, focusing mainly on the local college team. But I am a Maple Leafs fan, and I’m really wanting to go to a Leafs/Sabres game.But that may have to wait until next season. It’s a little late to start budgeting that in at the moment. 

Back to music. Playing the albums I have bring back the memories, and it helps. but then I also wonder if the memories are full, or if some things are placed in there to actually make me think they were good. (I honestly have a fairly shit memory). 

I know this is a little all over the place, but I’m still trying to get it straight in my own head. 

I’ve taken to writing to try and get things straight, but I don’t know if it’s helping. It may just be annoying anyone who reads this. (Which, if you’ve gotten this far, thank you).

And now my brain has pretty much shut off all thought process, so, until the next time the writing bug hits, or the next idea comes through I guess.