#but they probably moved to socal later in life

[plaquerat]

sits next to u. so if Virgil was just like a Regular Guy what do u think they'd be doin?

they are working for secondo still (he has a used car lot)

[deerixiie]

24/7 ramen.

description: you are iwaizumi’s home; even if he is forced to take you to a ramen place at 2 in the morning.

pairing: iwaizumi x gen!reader

genre/warning: banter, fluff, literally just filler dialogue with an overarching plot, light mentions of violence

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was inspired by some headcanons im going to post. oh and this is for @hajiimes... hehe <3

“I got into a fight.”

Iwaizumi paused, his phone hovering near his ear. He resisted the urge to let out a sharp laugh—of all the things, why did you have to get into a fight?—and slung his arm over his face. “And you lost?”

Iwaizumi could almost hear you pouting. “To be fair, they were-”

“But you lost.”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi dragged his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. “Why are you fighting people at,” he paused to squint at the digital clock on the dresser, “Two in the morning?”

“Ramen.”

“What?”

“Hot and spicy shrimp,” you said solemnly. “There was only one pack-”

“You’re aware we have finals tomorrow, right?”

“Exactly the reason why I wanted ramen.”

Iwaizumi sighed again. “Are you hurt?”

“Well, someone elbowed me in the eye-”

“The eye?”

“Yes the eye. I’m pretty sure it’s swollen, but other than that I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why do you sound so happy?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up to scour his closet for a hoodie. “You lost a fight over a pack of ramen.”

“Well technically, no one won the fight. We all got kicked out of the store. Poor guy didn’t even keep his ramen.”

“Which store?”

“Walmart.”

“You couldn’t have gone to a convenience store or something?” Iwaizumi pulled on the hoodie Oikawa sent him from Argentina and grabbed an old Godzilla hoodie from his closet.

“Haji, this is Socal, not Japan,” you condescended. Iwaizumi scoffed at how haughty you sounded. “I’m sure Socal has convenience stores,” he muttered.

“Well, Walmart was the closest.”

“You could’ve woken me up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, moving on to grab the keys off the drawer, “I would’ve taken you to a convenience store.”

“But you were sleeping.”

“So? You know how dangerous that was? I’d feel a little better if I was there.”

“Yeah, but I wanted ramen,” you sighed. “Anyway, can you pick me up, Haji? It’s getting cold.”

Iwaizumi shut the apartment door with a quiet click. “I’m leaving the apartment now.”

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling that you’d want me to pick you up.”

“Okay. Oh, and remember to drive on the right side of the road.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure? You almost drove into a tree last time.”

“Because I was tired.” Iwaizumi opened the door to the car, dropping the hoodie into the passenger’s seat. “Tired people don’t think straight.”

“Aren’t you tired right now?”

“No, I’ve been awake since you told me you got into a fight. You need to tell me what the hell actually happened there.”

“I told you, it was ramen,” you huffed. “There was one pack of spicy shrimp and three desperate college students in need of ramen.”

“So you fought for it.”

“I lunged for it, some other dude shoved me, I crashed into the third person, and then he was pushing them and I was on the floor and then someone’s elbow was in my eye and then the employee grabbed us and tossed us out.”

Iwaizumi took a moment to process your words. “You sound proud of yourself.”

“I’m not. I didn’t get the ramen.”

“No one got the ramen,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“I mean yeah, but now I can tell people I’ve been in a fight.”

“Why would you want to tell someone you’ve been in a fight?”

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I’m tired and hungry. Tired and hungry people say weird things.”

“Damn right.”

“That was an insult.”

“It was.”

“Ouch.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond, lightly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green.

“My eye hurts,” you said suddenly, your voice crackling from the phone’s speaker.

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“No,” you decide. “Ramen would make it better.”

“So now I’m buying you ramen?”

“Yeah.”

“At 2 AM?”

“It’s 2:28 now.”

Iwaizumi scoffed.

“I found this ramen place that’s open,” you said. “24/7 Ramen. It’s 25 minutes from here.”

“Why is there a ramen place open for 24 hours?” he muttered, half to himself.

“It’s probably run by college students. That’s why the name is catchy too.”

“Catchy?”

“It sounds like a song. You know, 24 Karat Magic by Bruno Mars.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What?” Iwaizumi found himself flinching, despite the fact it was simply your voice coming from his phone’s speaker. “How have you been living in America for two years without ever hearing 24 Karat Magic? That song is a classic.”

“I think you’re forgetting you’re speaking to a guy born and raised in Japan.”

“Haji, you’ve been here for two years. That’s 24 months. 48 weeks. And a certain amount of days I’m too tired to calculate.”

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “730.”

“730-” you paused. “How the hell did you calculate that so fast?”

“Dealing with stupid people makes you smarter, I guess.”

“No, ramen makes you smarter.” You sighed. “I really want ramen.”

“I heard.” Iwaizumi turned the steering wheel, bringing the car into the Walmart parking lot. “And I’m here now, so you can stop whining.”

“Oh, I see you. Do you see me?”

There was a figure sitting on the front curb, waving erratically in Iwaizumi’s direction. “I see an idiot waving at me like their life depends on it, so yes, I see you.”

“I think being around stupid people makes you grumpy,” you grumbled.

“No, having to pick my significant other up from Walmart at 2 in the morning makes me grumpy.”

You responded by scoffing and hanging up the phone. Seconds later, you were sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Aw, did you bring a hoodie for me?” you asked, glancing down at the Godzilla hoodie that you almost sat down on.

Iwaizumi glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Hi, I love you, thank you for picking me up. Happy now?”

“I’m ecstatic. Yes, that hoodie is for you.”

You smiled, pulling the hoodie on over your shirt and relaxing into the seat. Iwaizumi carefully looked over your face. The only noticeable injury was the ring of darkness around your eye—did they really elbow you that hard?—and a slight cut on your upper lip, but those would heal soon. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What, is there something on my face?” you asked, reaching up to brush your fingers over your cheek.

“You have a black eye.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. Is it bad?”

“No, not really.” He checked the dashboard for the time and slightly frowned. “Where’s the ramen place?”

24/7 Ramen was a small convenience store in between an optometrist and a cigarette shop. On the outside, it wasn’t much. The name of the store was illuminated in large flickering neon letters. The exterior brick walls of the store were dusty and crumbling with age and wore. The windows were covered with assorted posters and papers, some for missing children, upcoming movies, and advertisements for Japanese snacks.

“Oh, so this is like a Japanese convenience store then?” you asked, looking at one of the Japanese ads. “I guess you were right.”

“Told you.”

“Just come on and buy me my ramen.”

The door opened with a familiar chime that reminded Iwaizumi of warm yakisoba buns, tangled with the sight of preppy school uniforms, and of course, Oikawa Tooru. The layout of the store was straight out of Japan, overwhelming him with countless reels of tender highschool memories. If he closed his eyes he could see himself standing right there, bag under his arm, Oikawa at his shoulder.

“Feeling a little nostalgic, huh?”

His head whipped toward you standing behind him with an amused smile on your face. “This place does have a Japanese feel to it.” You raised your eyebrow in that insufferably adorable way of yours, and Iwaizumi found it hard to breathe.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as a flush began to form on his cheeks. “Be quiet.”

You hummed but made no other comment, instead choosing to shoot him another knowing look that made his blood roar in his ears. You started moving through the store, picking cups of ramen off the shelves. He hovered behind you, still embarrassed about his nostalgic moment—was he that homesick?—occasionally picking up cups of ramen and examining them before placing them back onto the shelf.

After what seemed like ages, you presented your armful of ramen cups with a proud smile. “I’m done.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not buying you 15 cups of ramen.”

“But you promised-“

“Each one is like, 65 cents? I’ll buy you 5, max.”

“Why not more?”

“I’m just as broke as you are.”

You sighed in defeat. “Being broke in college sucks.”

“I told you we should’ve held off on getting a car.”

“But I wanted a car!”

“More than you want ramen?”

“That’s- that’s an unfair comparison!”

Iwaizumi continued to go back and forth with you, even as you paid for the ramen at the cash register. You were in the middle of a frantic explanation of why investing in a car was important in California when you finally made it outside.

The air was still and cool, save for the slight breeze that occasionally tangled in Iwaizumi’s spiky locks. The only sounds were the distant cars speeding across the road and the faint sound of crickets chirping, for you had both fallen silent after leaving the convenience store. Iwaizumi turned to look at you: one eye swollen, upper lip bleeding, a plastic bag full of convenience store ramen clutched tightly in your hand. He could see the fire in your eyes, that odd determination to make your own dreams a reality, no matter how fickle or ridiculous they were. It was similar to the drive he saw in Oikawa’s eyes, he realized. The reckless, worthless one that seemed to be a double-edged sword.

Maybe that’s why whenever he looked at you, he felt like he was at home.

“I love you, you know that?”

You cocked your head to the side and smiled slightly. “Where did that come from?”

He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets again, turning away from your curious gaze. The corners of your mouth pulled up into a faint smile. Without warning, you turned Iwaizumi toward you with your finger and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And then you were bounding off toward the car, the plastic bag jostling in your hand.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi called, starting after you. “Come back here so I can kiss you properly.”

“I want my ramen!” came your response from the car. “No kisses until I get my ramen!”

Iwaizumi chuckled softly. You were annoying and feisty, but you still managed to make him feel right at home.

taglist in reblog; please comment/reblog with comments in the tags or in the post if you enjoyed!! i love hearing your feedback :)

[refinedbuffoonery]

Quarantine Moments (5.5)

By popular request, here’s QM #5 from Mac’s POV. This idiot is pining so hard and he doesn’t even realize it. 

*****

Mac watches the sun set behind them in his truck’s side mirror as Riley drives, the sky shifting from blue, to pink, then orange, then a dark burning gold, before fading to inky black. In front of them, the rising moon is barely more than a glowing sliver in the sky, and once they leave SoCal’s sprawling metropolis behind, the vast desert darkness swallows the beams of the truck’s headlights. 

Riley rolls her window down, letting the warm night air tug wisps of hair from her messy bun, and Mac can’t help but watch the way she smiles softly and breathes deeply, completely at peace. He rolls down his own window, and the wind ruffles his hair like a lover’s playful fingers. 

Mac is surprised when Riley parks in the empty campground. He assumed other people would have the same idea, but but as far as he can see, the area is devoid of human life. 

Mac turns his gaze to the glittering sea above. His eyes land on Vega and Arcturus—two of the brightest stars in the sky—before trailing the Milky Way to find Sagittarius along the southern horizon. 

Riley’s soft gasp draws his attention back to earth. Her lips part as she smiles, awestruck, and the stars are reflected in her big, dark eyes, almost as if she’s robbing them of their light. Thankfully Riley doesn’t notice his staring, because Mac can’t bring himself to look away. 

He should. He knows he should. But, for some reason, he can’t. 

Mac is still looking, minutes later, when Bozer yells at him to help make their bed. 

It’s not until he’s lying beside Bozer on the mass of pillows and blankets that Mac realizes how small his truck bed really is. In his mind, they all fit perfectly, but in reality, it’s only wide enough for two grown adults, not three. Mac and Bozer scoot to the sides to give Riley as much space as possible, but their shoulders will be overlapping no matter what. 

Riley’s arm brushes Mac’s as she squeezes her slim frame into the space in the middle, her warmth soaking into his skin. Mac likes her this close, likes her steady, reassuring presence at his side. They used to gravitate toward each other more, before he got back together with Desi, and Mac will never admit it aloud, but he misses the closeness he once had with Riley. 

Quarantining with her, there were moments that felt like their old selves—the people they were back when Jack was still around and their biggest problem was Mac and Riley’s respective daddy issues—but then there would be a long, awkward pause in conversation or Desi would come up, and then that weird gap between them would be right back, wide as ever. 

Mac isn’t sure how it even got there in the first place. 

He tries to forget about it, distracting himself by searching for constellations while he waits for the first meteor to appear. Finally, one does, zipping across the horizon in the blink of an eye. 

“Did you see that?” Bozer squeals.

Riley laughs softly. “Yeah, but I have no idea where it came from, or where I should be looking.” 

Mac opens his mouth to explain, but Bozer beats him to it. “For starters, don’t look straight up. Look near the horizon. As Perseus gets higher in the sky during the night, the meteors will appear to come from higher up too.”

“Thanks.” 

They watch the sky in peaceful silence. 

Eventually, Bozer gets up to pee, and while he’s gone, Riley nudges Mac with her knee. “You’ve been quiet,” she says. 

How is he supposed to say that even though their shoulders are literally touching right now, that even though they’ve been locked in his house together for months, he’s never felt farther away from her? That there’s this ever-widening chasm between them that he doesn’t know how to bridge? 

Mac doesn’t look at her as he speaks, his eyes finding Vega overhead. “Ancient Chinese astronomers believed Vega and Altair were lovers, forever kept apart by the Milky Way.” He points with two fingers, one toward each star. “Vega is one of the brightest stars in the sky. It’s in the constellation Lyra, which just looks like a parallelogram. And over there is Altair, which is part of Aquila, the eagle.”

Riley doesn’t say anything. Mac glances at her in his peripheral vision. She’s squinting slightly, the way she always does when she’s focusing on something. She must not be able to find the stars, he reasons. Mac doesn’t think before sliding an arm beneath Riley’s shoulders and pulling her closer so that her head rests on his shoulder. His arm brushes her cheek as he points again. 

It’s odd being this close to Riley without catching lingering traces of her perfume—a warm, dark scent he can’t pinpoint but likes anyway. She hasn’t worn it since quarantine started, and Mac is starting to miss it. 

“I see it,” she breathes. Mac lets his arm drape across Riley’s body. 

She tenses, but she doesn’t try to extricate herself from his side. Part of Mac knows he probably shouldn’t be holding her like this. A bigger part doesn’t care. Riley is his best friend goddammit, and he can cuddle her if he wants to. It doesn’t have to mean anything. 

“Show me something else,” Riley says softly. 

Mac takes a slightly unsteady breath before pointing in a different direction.  “Over there are Sagittarius, which looks like a teapot, and Scorpius, which looks like a hook or the letter ‘J.’ Between them is the supermassive black hole that exists in the middle of the galaxy. All of the matter in the Milky Way orbits around it.” 

Black holes are easy. Black holes make sense. But Riley...Riley doesn’t. 

Especially when the moment passes, and she turns her head away to holler at Bozer. “You good, man?” 

Bozer yells back from the other side of the truck. “Yeah! Got a little performance anxiety from this creepy bug staring at me.” 

Mac imagines Bozer having a staring contest with some random desert bug sitting on the hood of the truck and bursts out laughing. His arm inadvertently tightens around Riley, and the wicked gleam in her eye when she looks up at him makes the moment even funnier. 

He feels it again, that gravitational pull toward her. He’s tempted to let it drag him closer, but he’s afraid of what it might mean if he does. 

Riley squirms when Bozer climbs back into the truck, and Mac hesitates before letting her go. 

The three of them lay together for hours, just looking up at the stars, until Bozer initiates a chain reaction of yawns. “Mac,” Bozer says. “Did you set the alarm?”

Patting the pillow above Riley’s head, he answers, “Yeah. My phone is right here.”

Riley twists to look at him in horror. “Alarm?” 

Mac explains, “The meteor shower’s peak is between three and four am. So unless you’d rather stay up all night...” Riley groans, pulling up a blanket and rolling onto her side. Chuckling at her dramatics, Mac grabs a blanket for himself and watches the stars until he falls asleep. 

~ 

The volume of his alarm is set far too loud for the phone only being inches from his ear, and Mac winces as he’s forced into consciousness. Beside him, Riley growls, “Turn it off.” 

He’s lying on his side with an arm around Riley’s waist, holding her in the curve of his body, but it doesn’t feel weird or awkward. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the way Riley fit against him. Mac accidentally bumps her face as he silences the alarm, and he mumbles, “Sorry.” There’s no room to move away from her, so Mac just brushes Riley’s hair out of his face and puts his arm back around her. “I hit snooze. You have five minutes.” 

She sighs, absentmindedly brushing her thumb over his hand, and warmth spreads through Mac’s body that has nothing to do with the fact that it’s still nearly eighty degrees outside, even in the middle of the night. He lets himself snuggle closer. If he could live in the calm safety of this moment forever, Mac would. 

But he doesn’t hold Riley for long before feeling like he’s about to explode. Mac rubs her shoulder. “Riles, move. I have to pee.”

Riley groans again, but then her hips press into his as she pushes Bozer away, and Mac scrambles to get up before anything awkward happens. 

“I’m awake,” Bozer slurs.

“Sure you are.”

He’s back by the time the alarm goes off again, and Mac can hear the soft popping of Riley’s joints as she sits up and stretches. The meteors are more frequent now, nearly two a minute. Most are quick, bright flashes, but a few are slower, gracefully crossing the sky before burning up.

“Riley stop blocking the view,” Bozer says, kicking her in the back. Riley flops back down. 

A massive, glowing meteor arcs across the sky in slow motion, lingering for a few seconds before winking out of existence. “Wow,” Riley whispers, smiling. 

Wow is an understatement. Mac would’ve driven all the way out here for that meteor alone. 

Mac keeps his eyes trained on the heavens until the sky lightens and the first rays of sunlight stretch across the desert. The air seems to hum, the way it always does in announcement of the scorching summer sun. 

When they pile into the truck, Mac blasts the air conditioner. He’s already sweating, even though it’s barely six am. As he drives out of the campground and toward the highway, Bozer rattles off suggestions for where to stop for breakfast burritos on the way home. 

Apparently content to let Bozer decide, Riley demands, “Wake me up when you have my burrito. Goodnight.” Mac glances at her in the rearview mirror and smiles; she’s sprawled across the pillows and blankets, already fast asleep. 

[scribbuluswrites]

The Boxing

Happy Friday everyone! Today I’m posting the final chapter for Faking It. Feels kind of bittersweet, really. It’s been a fun ride. :) As always, thanks so much for reading this, and especially those special few who’ve avidly kept up and sent me messages. You guys are great. 

The first box was easy. Everything from the kitchen fit neatly into one cardboard box, the biggest benefit of having very few items. It also helped that there was nothing of sentimental value in there. 

Katarina’s progress slowed as she started in the living room. There were just a few knicknacks on the shelves, but she had forgotten about the photos scattered around. 

Happy had begrudgingly let her take a few snaps of them together. His annoyance level, though, had significantly decreased over time. He had even taken one to keep with him, keeping it tucked inside his kutte. 

Her fingers traced over each one. For every good memory they contained, she could think of another bad one. The positives were frequently knocked down by negatives. 

-

“How long are you gone this time?” Katarina asked, sitting on the bed in Happy’s house. He was busy sorting through ammo and packing what he would need. 

“Don’t know.” His answer was gruff; if you could even consider it much of a reply. Kat nodded, picking at the frayed knee of her jeans. She wanted to ask him more, but she definitely didn’t want to start another argument. 

Happy zipped up his backpack. He dropped it next to the door, shrugging on his kutte. Kat had followed him, leaning against the doorway. 

“Stay here while I’m gone.” Kat nodded her agreement, knowing she wasn’t actually going to stay. It was an extra 30 minutes on her drive to campus, but Happy would never hear of her going back to her apartment alone. To him, she was safest here. 

-

She took the photos out of the frames, slipping them into an empty shoebox. Kat added the little silver pendant Happy had given her before he pushed her away the second time. The time he had made all sorts of promises he’d never be able to keep. 

The two little closets were quick work. Almost everything in them would be donated: old coats, a candle holder that had once been a gift, some holiday decorations, and a heavy quilt. None of this had been needed in the past several months, so she would take the opportunity to purge some extra items. 

Her final task was the most difficult. Kat had taken all of her bed linens and most of her clothes to her temporary home down south. What was left, though, were memories. 

-

“That’s new,” Kat commented, running her fingers over the Redwood flash on Happy’s kutte. It hadn’t been there before his trip south to California. 

“It looks like I’m going to be staying near Charming longer than planned.” He hung his kutte over a chair before sitting heavily on the end of the bed, tugging off his boots. 

“So you’re moving?” she asked hesitantly, wondering how, or if, he would answer. Happy nodded. 

“It’s temporary, but probably still at least a year or two,” he explained, pulling off his shirt. He stood up just long enough to shuck his jeans, scooting up the bed to sit against the headboard. “You wanna go with me?” he rasped, watching her carefully. 

“Like a long weekend?” Happy shook his head, still staring at her. Kat pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to hide her smile. She nodded, curling against him when he held his arm open for her. 

-

Katarina pulled out her original box of ‘ex-boyfriend things’. Most of this was no longer sentimental, the sting worn off after so many years. 

She sifted through the contents, not even remembering why some of it was there. At the bottom, though, was a wristband from a concert. That had definitely caused a fight. Kat still hated that memory more than most of the others. 

-

Happy was sitting on his bike outside the venue, waiting for her. Kat’s heart dropped at the look on his face. 

“I thought you were staying at the clubhouse tonight. Patch party or something,” she said, walking up to him. Her friends hung back a few paces, too intimidated to come any closer. 

“Get on the bike, girl,” he said sharply, shoving the helmet into her hands. 

“We were going to get some food. You’re welcome to join,” she replied, putting her hand on the top of the helmet rather than accepting it. 

“Now,” he growled. Katarina rolled her eyes but grasped the helmet, putting it on her head. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” she nodded, waving as she threw her leg over the back of the bike. “I fucking hate when you treat me like this. I’m not some kid you can just boss around.” 

“I wouldn’t treat you like this if you listened,” he grumbled, firing the bike up. 

-

Kat shifted, sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up. She dropped her forehead against them, letting herself feel sad and angry. Part of her wanted to cry, but a larger part of her wanted to demolish everything in the box. Even in death, Happy was still capable of filling her with conflicting emotions. Nothing with them had ever been easy. 

She replaced everything in the box, labelling it with just an X. Kat taped it up, lifting the small box. She thought about it for a few more moments, deciding to take care of this box now. With a sigh, she carried it straight outside and tossed it into the dumpster.

She wiped her palms on her jeans, staring at the small box for a few extra minutes. The weak little bit of her heart wanted to pull it out, but she set her jaw, forcing her feet to carry her back to the apartment. It was a closed chapter now, and she didn’t need any more reminders.

--

Coco put out his cigarette, watching as Katarina waved at him from the balcony. She had wanted some time alone to finish organizing things in her old apartment, so he’d stayed outside, back leaned against the borrowed pickup truck. 

“Hey, you all packed?” he asked, walking up the stairs to meet her. Kat nodded, leading him to the short stack of boxes. 

“Yea, sorry. That took a little longer than anticipated,” she apologised, nervously twirling her key ring. Coco gave his head a quick shake, reaching out to stop her fidgeting. 

“Nah, it’s good, dulce. I get old lives,” he shrugged, hoping his calm energy would settle into her as he held her hands. 

“You might not talk a lot, but, damn, you’re incredible at this understanding thing,” she grinned, finally taking a deep breath. Coco interrupted her before she could speak again, already knowing what she was going to say. 

“I love you,” he said softly, moving his hands to cup her cheeks. “When we get back to Santo, it’s all about us. New life shit,” he smiled, brushing his lips against hers. Kat put her hands over his, visibly relaxing. 

“I like that. New life shit,” she repeated, nodding. “Let’s get these boxes out of here. No more NorCal.” 

“That’s right, querida. SoCal until we figure out where else we wanna go,” he winked, reveling in the surprised look on her face. 

“Somewhere else, huh?” Coco nodded confidently. 

“I ain’t retiring in Santo Padre,” he told her, letting her go to pick up the first box. “C’mon, happily ever after is waitin’.” Katarina chuckled, grabbing a box and following him down the stairs. 

“I knew you were the knight out of my fairytale,” she smiled. “Glad you rode up on a softail and not a horse.”

“Sir Coco,” he declared, putting his chin in the air. “After you, m’lady,” he joked, grinning as she curtseyed. 

Coco wondered if he would ever stop being shocked that this was his life now. He smirked to himself, knowing he’d never get used to Katarina being his. 

Tags: @agirllovespasta @gemini0410 @scuzmunkie @woahitslucyylu @chibsytelford @ifoundmyhappythought @multiyfandomgirl40

[princess-havok]

Love Fast Los Angeles Read-Through: Preface

This book has 42 chapters + a preface, so I've decided to make each post 6 chapters and then do the preface separately. I want to start with just the preface because it is eight pages long but so much happens, it's like getting whiplash every five seconds. Let's do it.

First of all, it's a prologue, Davey, not a preface, a preface is more of an introduction while this is like, things that happen before the real story starts, or really just an explanation for why Star isn't around and why Alvin goes to LA.

Anyway, we open with Alvin doing a photoshoot on the beach and if I could summarize the first page of this book in a single image it would be this:

We've got narration like "Whatevs. It's cool. I've already got a memory stick full of sick shit" and nobody talks like that!

I'm not 100% clear at this point how much time has passed between Pop Kids and this book (iirc it might be more specific later but I don't remember right now) but Alvin and Star, the grown-ass woman who straight up groomed him when he was 15 and nobody cared, are still together and living in San Francisco in an old Victorian, aka my dream life. But then, in the second paragraph of this entire book, he comes home to find her cheating on him, he hits the guy with his motorcycle helmet knocking out a tooth (which he takes???) and she kicks him out.

There's some nice references in this bit, like that Star is a masseuse and the room in the house where she works is known as the Zen Room (ayyyyy!), and as he's packing his clothes to leave he sprays them with her Rose 31 perfume. This book, having come out in 2017, makes sense to have been written during the writing of the Dreamcar record and I appreciate that little nod.

So Al leaves, and we're still only 4 pages into this book and we've changed location again, going to the "Tranny Shack" where he also works shooting the drag shows. And I am truly, wildly uncomfortable with this paragraph:

"A Nubian goddess enters her spotlight. Draped in the pelts of plush animals, Lucky Day caresses her luminous microphone. The audience hushes. She begins to sing "Circle of Life" and I lose it. Spotting me weeping behind my lens, the queen of the jungle steps from the stage through the crowd and in her soothing Song of The South voice, says, "This is your favorite number. Why ya cryin' sugar?" (11)

Look I'm willing to give Davey the benefit of the doubt and suggest that Lucky Day may be based on an actual drag queen he knows and this is all harmless, but is it weird! The use of "Nubian," while a valid name of an indigenous group in Africa, is also used by weird fetishists who think black women are ~exotic. Having your black drag queen character sing a song from the Lion King dressed in fake fur? And probably worst of all, the deeply stereotypical speech pattern and comparing her voice to Song of the South. Couldn't just say she had a southern accent, you had to go with probably the most obscure Disney movie, which is obscure because it's so racist even Disney won't re-release it. Song of the South has a weird cult following of racists who praise it and claim to love it as pushback against what they feel is Disney being too woke by like... having a single black princess or acknowledging that maybe a gay person might have existed in the periphery of one of their main characters. That's not Davey's fault of course, but the association is there and also it is really super weird to use that movie as a comparison! Hardly anyone has seen it! I'm uncomfy.

So anyway, Al ends up staying with Lucky Day for literal weeks. We're five pages in and there's a time jump. In the space of a paragraph on page 12 (the preface started on page 8) Al moves in, becomes depressed enough that he sleeps all day, doesn't shower and loses his job, and starts chain-smoking until Lucky can't take it anymore, Febrezes him while he's asleep, makes him shower and eat breakfast.

She makes him grits for breakfast and I don't think Davey knows what grits are, except that people from the South like them because he describes them being cooked in an iron pan which I'm like 90% sure is not how you make grits? Idk I'm not southern and also I find grits disgusting. But you don't make them in a frying pan!

In the space of another paragraph starting on page 13, Al gets a tattoo, starts working out, feels better about himself and gets a new job, so... a second time jump in two pages and we're not even 10 pages into the book. The pacing here is insane.

Lucky flies down to SoCal to hook up with an online fling and then comes back, having been assaulted. It turns out her online fling is a famous pop star, Jamie Shannon (let's take bets who he's based on!), and Al vows to wreck him. So he's off to LA, and this absolutely batshit insane preface comes to an end.

As I was writing this recap my cat came and closed the book on me and then stood on it so I think that's a good place to stop this first entry. I expect the pace to chill the fuck out when we get into the actual story so maybe I won't be writing so much about eight pages. EIGHT.

Aren't we glad we're all on this journey together.

[pocketseizure]

Disneybound

Case #0180602. Statement of Ted Nakamura, regarding a strange experience at the Haunted Mansion attraction in Disneyland, California. Statement recorded directly from subject on June 2, 2018.

Jonathan takes the statement of someone whose memories may not accurately reflect the events of his childhood. He then has a short conversation with Martin and learns something (perhaps not so) surprising about Elias.

The events of this story take place after Episode 103, "Cruelty Free" (the one in which Jon reads the statement of a farmer in New Zealand with a monster pig).

( This story is also on AO3. )

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jon cast a level gaze at the American sitting on the other side of the table. He was fit and clean-shaven, and he appeared to be in his early thirties. He wore a wide grin and a bright red shirt depicting Minnie Mouse posing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Jon sighed and pressed the record button of his tape recorder.

“Statement of Theodore Nakamura – ”

“Call me Ted, please. Or Teddy, if you like. All my friends do.”

“Ted Nakamura, regarding a strange phenomenon he experienced at the Haunted Mansion attraction in Disney World – ”

“Sorry, but it’s ‘Disneyland.’ Disney World is the one in Florida.”

“In Disneyland, California. Statement recorded directly from subject on May 25, 2018.”

“This is exciting! I love the detail you’ve devoted to authenticity. The tape recorder is a nice touch.”

Jon grimaced. “Statement begins.”

A hint of uncertainty crept into Ted’s smile. “I’ve never done this before. Is there a protocol? Maybe some sort of standard introduction I should start with?”

“Just tell me about the incident you came to report. You can start whenever you’re ready.”

“All right, I’ll start at the beginning.”

Ted clapped his hands on his knees and took a deep breath. Jon watched as his eyes made a brief circuit around the densely packed shelves arranged in disorderly rows at the rear of the room before finally coming to rest on one of the objects jammed between the accordion folders and cardboard boxes. He’d witnessed this process often enough that he could pinpoint the object of the man’s attention – a cloudy snow globe with a tarnished metal base. It wasn’t connected to any of the cases on file in the archives, merely something Gertrude had brought back from one of her travels on a whim.

“I guess you could say that I’m not the sort of person who would be the star of a Disney movie,” Ted began. “I’m not an orphan, and I had a happy childhood. My mother was an architect who moved from San Francisco to Los Angeles during the construction boom of the 1980s, and my father went to business school at UCLA and never left. His family is from Seattle, and they made some money in real estate in the 1990s. We’re comfortably middle class, but I went to one of the big public schools in Orange County.”

He paused, seeming to expect some sort of reaction. When it became clear that no such reaction was forthcoming, he continued.

“Even in LA, where everyone tries to stand out, high school was all about belonging to a group. I didn’t have any interest in the grandstanding of my school’s Gay-Straight Alliance, and I didn’t have the looks or the talent for the student theater club, which is where a lot of kids like me spent a year or two on their way out of the closet. Mostly I kept my grades up and my head down as my circle of friends from middle school gradually went their separate ways.

“My mom worked from home, and she made sure our house had the first high-speed internet connection in my neighborhood. I don’t mind admitting that I spent a lot of time online. I posted an embarrassing number of bad stories about cartoon characters on LiveJournal, and I eventually ended up being invited to join a popular Disney fan community moderated by a friend of a friend. All the people I spoke with on the comm were strangers, at least at first, but we gradually got to know one another as we responded to each other’s posts and comments.

“Between one thing and another, we somehow managed to figure out that most of us were the same age. Oddly enough, a lot of us lived in SoCal, so we decided to meet up over the summer at Disneyland. Everyone showed up, and we had a great time. We met again the next summer, and then again after my senior year.

“Nothing bad happened, but I stopped updating my LiveJournal after that. I went to college in New York, got a job in the city, and fell out of touch with most of my online friends.

“I moved back to LA four years ago, not that I do anything glamorous. I manage the back end of a tech company’s website and intranet, mostly database stuff, but I still have an IG account. I started it just for fun, but I joined early and picked up more than a thousand followers in less than a year. Someone suggested that it would be cool for me to visit to Disneyland and post photos, so I thought, why not? Like, I love Disneyland!”

Jon cleared his throat. “And what is this ‘strange incident’ you came to report?”

“Hold your horses, I’m getting to it. It’s important that you know my background, right? What I’m trying to say is that I’d only been to Disneyland three times before. It wasn’t a major part of my life. But it was a good part of my life – that’s important.”

Jon nodded in acknowledgment. “Very well, then. Duly noted.”

“Disneyland was considered to be a little seedy when I was in high school, but it’s gotten fancy in the past ten years or so. It used to be that you could just walk in, but these days you practically have to make an itinerary. So I did some research, got a group of people together, and we went and saw the sights. Everyone wore an outfit to match the style of a character, and we took a lot of pictures. The photos were so popular that I hit 5k followers in less than 24 hours, can you believe it? Everyone and their sister is into DisneyBounding these days, but picking up that sort of following from on-location fashion photos was still a thing you could do in 2015.

“Like I said, I had a happy childhood, but no one ever paid me that sort of attention. It was such a dopamine hit, you have no idea. Or maybe you do?”

Jon grit his teeth. “Please continue with the statement.”

Ted laughed. “Pushy, aren’t you? But that’s all right. It’s weird, but I feel like I can tell you anything. Has anyone ever said that to you before?”

“You’re not the first.”

“Maybe it’s the librarian thing you’ve got going on – or archivist thing, sorry. Puts me right at ease. And I appreciate that. If there’s an adult who willingly goes to Disneyland for fun, especially someone like me, people tend to think that’s creepy. The therapist I was seeing at the time called it ‘Peter Pan Syndrome,’ of all things. I never went to another appointment with her again, but that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say is that I kept going back to Disneyland, usually with friends but sometimes with my boyfriend, who I met on Insta. We bonded while sharing theories about the Haunted Mansion, which is… Well, it used to be my favorite ride in the park. It still is, I guess, but I can’t go on it anymore.

“It took me long enough to get here, but this is the part of my story that should interest you. The reason I like the Haunted Mansion is because it reminds me of my mother, who passed away from a heart attack while I was living in New York. It was very sudden, completely out of the blue, and I never got to say good-bye. I never cared about the Haunted Mansion when I was in high school – we all thought it was cringe for some silly teenage reason that probably involved how awkward it would be if we were in the dark with each other. It wasn’t until I visited the park again as an adult that I finally went on the ride. When I did, I had this sudden flashback to a childhood memory.

“I must have gone to Disneyland with my parents when I was young, because standing in the dark and listening to the music made me recall being on the ride with my mother. This was during the lead-up, before you get in the Doom Buggies and begin the ride proper. I remember being absolutely terrified by what I thought was an endless maze. I felt like that line, after it entered the building, lasted forever. Kids can be like that sometimes, but my memory of this is crystal clear – the corridor genuinely didn’t end. I felt like there were people all around us, there had to be, but somehow it was just me and my mother, alone in the darkness.

“And then I remember that this terrible thing appeared out of nowhere. I’m not sure how to describe it. It definitely wasn’t a person in a costume, but it was too realistic to be the projection of a cartoon, and it was talking to us in voice that sounded like laughter and crying at the same time. Like it was hurt, but it found its pain amusing. Meanwhile, the walls kept stretching, and as they got taller I started to see awful things in the gaps between the ceiling and the floor.

“My mother held my hand the whole time. She kept whispering to me: ‘It’s going to be okay. You are brave, and you are strong. Nothing in here can hurt you.’ Just that, over and over, until the ride was over.

“When we finally got out, I ran straight to my dad, who knelt down on the pavement on the other side of the gate and hugged me. He and my mother both patted my back as I cried. I was so relieved to be outside again that my tears wouldn’t stop.

“My dad seemed confused by how afraid I was. This didn’t occur to me until I started thinking about it much later, but isn’t it strange that he didn’t understand why a young child would be frightened by a scary ride?

“I moved back to LA almost immediately after my mom’s funeral, but Dad became a little distant with me. We were both grieving, and it must have seemed callous to him that I was posting shots of myself at Disneyland on social media right after Mom died. Really I just needed a break from the move, from my job, from mourning, from everything – and I guess a part of me felt like my mother would never die as long as I kept returning to that memory of her holding my hand in the Haunted Mansion.

“My dad eventually moved on and married a younger woman. She would probably be my evil stepmother if my life were a Disney movie, but she’s actually a princess, and I adore her. I spend more time with her than I do with my dad these days, but I’m trying to do better. I thought I could reconnect with him if I took him along with me on a visit to the park, but he turned down my invitation. He told me he enjoyed my photos, but that he had never been to Disneyland and had no interest in going. Too many screaming children, he said.

“That was a surprise to me, so I told him about my memory of the Haunted Mansion. While I was talking, his face went completely pale. I don’t mean that as a figure of speech – it was like all the blood had been drained from his skin.

“He insisted that he had never been to Disneyland with me and my mother, but then he told me something strange. When I was about five years old, we went to visit his family in Seattle. My grandfather had just taken on management of a property in Capitol Hill, one of the old Gothic Revival mansions that used to be common there before the neighborhood gentrified. It was an old house, almost as old as the city itself, but my grandfather was having trouble finding potential buyers. The property had been designed by the student of a famous British architect by the name of Robert Smirke, and he wanted my mother to come take a look. Do a walkthrough, point out any potential areas of interest and value, that sort of thing.

“According to my father, my mother had a bad experience in that house. She refused to talk about it with him or anyone else, and she never went back to Seattle. She took me along with her on her tour of the property, and I was apparently just as upset as she was when we came out, even though my dad says we spent less than ten minutes inside. If I thought this place was the Haunted Mansion, and if the ride at Disneyland evoked such a strong memory, it makes me wonder – what did we see in that house?

“I checked with my grandfather, and he said the property never did find a buyer. The only person who seemed seriously interested was a British woman by the name of Gertrude Robinson. Shortly after she made inquiries, the place burned down. Imagine my surprise when I ran a search and learned that this Gertrude Robinson was employed by an institute dedicated to paranormal research.

“So,” Ted concluded, meeting Jon’s eyes, “I gave you my statement. I hope it will be useful to you. I was wondering what you could tell me in return.”

“Not much, I’m afraid. As you can see, we’re still in the process of organizing our records. We’ll investigate to the best of our abilities and contact you if we learn anything.”

“I would love that, thank you. Well, you have my information so…”

“We’ll be in touch. I believe I see my assistant Melanie hovering around. She used to have a large following on social media herself. I’m sure she’d be happy to show you outside.”

“So you’re from LA,” Jon heard Melanie say as she held the door open. Ted directed his dazzling smile at her, which she returned before allowing the door to slam shut behind them.

“Statement ends,” Jon muttered as listened to their conversation growing fainter. He ended the recording and leaned back in his chair.

“Any thoughts you’d like to share, Martin?”

“Oh, I, um,” Martin stammered. “I didn’t want to interrupt the, you know. The statement.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he emerged from between the shelves.

“It’s fine, Martin. It was a relief. To know that you were listening.”

“I’m sorry, I… What? It was?”

“I’ve never been good with people like that.”

“People like… Wait, excuse me?”

“People who are so…” Jon made a vague gesture to illustrate his point. “Sunny. Bright. Content. When someone comes here to make a statement, they’re usually upset.”

“Ah, right. I can see what you mean. But he looks like he just got back from a trip to the happiest place on earth.”

“The happiest place on earth?”

“You know, Disneyland Paris.”

“Disneyland Paris? They finished construction?”

“A few decades ago, actually.”

Jon sympathized with Ted Nakamura’s father. Between the crowds and the relentless sunshine, he couldn’t imagine a more ghastly location, and by this point he considered himself something of an expert on cursed geography.

“I don’t suppose we’ll have to go there ourselves to investigate,” he said, making an attempt to smile. He failed. His muscles were still tense from the process of taking a statement, and his face felt frozen.

“Really? You… want to go to Disneyland Paris? I suppose I could come too, I mean, if it’s not…”

Jon was alarmed by how red Martin’s face was becoming. Did Martin want to go to a theme park? Jon didn’t know much about Disneyland – or Paris, for that matter – but his childhood had been unusual, to say the least. He’d never asked, but Martin’s family couldn’t have been much if he had nowhere to sleep but down here in the archives. Perhaps he could use a vacation. Perhaps they both could.

Jon turned to face his assistant. “Martin, I…”

“Did someone say Disneyland Paris?”

Jon frowned. “Does this conversation interest you, Elias?”

“I heard you were planning a trip. You really must go sometime. It’s fantastic, quite the experience. I went myself, back in 1996.”

Elias made a quick series of taps on the screen of his phone before holding it out in front of him. Jon and Martin leaned forward to get a better look.

In the photo, Elias was posing next to someone wearing a Mickey Mouse costume. He wore an aloha shirt over denim shorts, and he was grinning from ear to ear. The camera had caught him in the act of pulling a tall man with a square jaw and a severe expression into the frame. The image quality was poor, but the man seemed far too pale for the summer sunshine.

Jon’s frown deepened. “And that is…?”

“Oh, this is Peter. You’ll meet him soon enough, I’m sure.”

“Do you, um. Do you go to Disneyland often, then?” Martin asked.

“Just the once. Peter lost a bet, you see.”

“Right.” Jon couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had a bad feeling about this.

“I wouldn’t mind going back. We could all go together, make an office party of it. It would be fun. You do know what fun is, don’t you, Archivist?”

Martin’s eyes darted between Elias and Jon. “I don’t think it’s safe to…”

“Come now,” Elias interrupted. “Would you have any reason not to?”

“China.”

“Excuse me?”

“China. I need to follow up on a statement, something Gertrude was looking into before she traveled to New Zealand.”

“Excellent. I’m glad that’s settled. I’ll leave you to your preparations, then.”

“Damn it.” Jon clenched his fists on the table as Elias left. A trap had been set, and he’d walked right into it.

“Don’t feel bad,” Martin said, oddly perceptive. After everything they’d been through, Jon was coming to appreciate that about him. “At least we know that Elias is still human. He likes Disneyland, after all.”

Jon wasn’t convinced that a fondness for theme parks qualified someone as being ‘human,’ but what would he know? He had to admit that Elias was right about one thing – it would do him good to get out of the archives.

“Are you really going to China, then?”

“I suppose I am.” Jon removed his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

“I’ve always wanted to go someplace like that, somewhere far away,” Martin said, his eyes darting to the tape recorder on the table. “I’d like to hear about it. If you don’t… If you don’t mind, of course. Maybe I could, I mean, we could go out for a coffee together. After you get back.”

“All right,” Jon replied, replacing his glasses. That would be rather nice, actually. “After I get back.”

[movingfoward291]

I have Depression. It’s a slow eating disease that affects the mind that also brings about anxiety and restlessness. I struggle with anxiety almost on a daily basis. I wanted to bring about a new dawn in my life by writing my thoughts somewhere, where I hope that more and more people can gaze upon it and realize they are not the only ones going through the motions. The current pandemic and in light of certain situations has cause a large influx of people to realize this, or not and I want to share. The other reason I want to right these blogs is due to self-reflection and my recent toxic relationship with who I thought was the one for me. I guess we can start there and get his blog post going. 

 I was 17 when I met my baby mama. She was 17 as well, and she lived two towns over, and we were infatuated with each other. We constantly talked through text message and always hung out whenever we could. I didn’t have a good relationship with my parents and we constantly fought. Looking back at it, I don’t think I was looking for the right things. As a 17-year-old boy the only thing on your mind at that time, is to have sex. But I mixed two feelings, wanting sex and affection that I never received when I was in my own house. Things went by in our toxic relationship and low and behold we broke up a year after our son was born. That was when I started realizing that I started feeling more and more depressed. I was looking for once was a part of our relationship, I started wanting to be in another relationship and wanted to fix what happened. I started dating and seeing other people during a time when I should have been focusing on myself. I dropped out of school the year prior which meant I had more time to focus on the things that made me happy. Which for that time was video games, cars and women. It didn’t help me at all. I, then, met another girl that I started dating around that time. Let’s call her Del. 

Del and I met a year after my baby mama and I broke up. We met off of Tinder and it was mostly a bunch of flirting and sex talk. We met during that time while she was up here from SoCal for work. We met at a local hotel at the time, because, I was flat broke and didn’t have a place to stay and was living back at my parents. It was suppose to be a one night stand and we ended up staying the night together and seeing each other multiple times after that. We moved way to fast. She decided to stay up here after her job tried to send her back and moved into a room for rent. Shortly there after I was kicked out my house and started hanging out with my cousins and living in my car. I would go to her house for weeks on end, and stay in my car some nights. What I didn’t know, is that my anxiety started to show along with my depression. I never wanted to do anything for her. I would show affection but only when I wanted to. I started to vape heavily and constantly wanted to drink. Looking back on that relationship, I know now that it was toxic. I was using her for my own benefit to feel better about myself but the other thing that I never noticed was that I was in a relationship for one of the wrong reasons. I was looking to fix her.

           When Del and I broke up, it was a nasty. We had an argument the night before and we had been in each others faces. But the first indication that the relationship was bad and or worse was when I tried to salvage things. I wanted to go out and vape and cool off. She wouldn’t let me and told me if I was going to go out and do that, that she was done. And that was the first moment that I stood up for myself and stepped out. In my anxiety of leaving Del I was force by myself to come back asking for forgiveness just to stay in the comfort of being in my depression, and having a roof over my head. When I came back, she wouldn’t say anything and I later met her at the local mall for her to drop off all of my stuff into a tight little 90’s SUV.

           It was shortly after this that I had bump on my head. I’m the type of person that only changes when something happens that destroys me inside. About three months after we broke up, I started vaping more and drinking. This was mostly because of my depression and the fact that I didn’t know how to cope with myself. One day though my friend that I was super close with and helped me deal with a previous break up helped me get motivation to better myself. I found anime. When I was growing up, Dragonball Z was all the rage and kids from the school yard would always talk about. It was on in the evening right after school and it was amazing! For a kid that didn’t know how to express themselves by talking, watching a listening to people talk helped. This show taught me to deal with bullies in the only natural way: by fighting back. But that was 7-12 year old me that dealt with stuff like that. How is that beneficial for a man that is 26 years old and has a child. You can’t scream and yell all the time. It was much more than that a surface level. When I started watching the show again, I was realizing something that ignited a fire in my soul. Why do I keep attracting people that are overweight and unhappy with themselves or had really bad situations or home life. Why does everyone that I come into contact to likes me even though I’m not that hot. I’m over weight and always have been. Late one night, my cousin and my friend decided to call me up and ask me to

Head to the gym with them. That night lit a fire in my soul that made me focus on myself. I started working out. I pushed myself, I pushed myself to loose some weight and focusing on bodybuilding. I wanted to be like Arnold, and just be bigger. And then the Dragonball Super made my focus even grander. I wanted to go beyond myself to have a body like the guys on DragonBall, I grew into that fashion of getting up early and heading to the gym and getting bigger and pushing myself harder. And I was loving it. I was working at auto dealership and I was making better money than what I was the year before. I pushed myself to the maximum and made excellent gains as the bodybuilder call it. I felt better for once with my depression even though I was still dealing with a lot of that. I was dealing with a crappy home life situation with my extended family.

 Then once again, I was out on the street. I was depressed and turned to tinder for that dopamine affect. I need companion ship and didn’t have the friends that were around the time that would help. However, the gym took a back burner and was only used to shower every day which should have been my main source of a crutch. As a famous philosopher once said, Hindsight is 20/20. Once things at work started to ramp up, I caught a lot of overtime. I would push myself to stay at work till the late evenings clean and doing things to work on my car. I felt like I was getting nowhere. Then I met Danni who was another one of my ex-girlfriends. Now Danni was completely different than most of the girls that I date (or so I thought).

Let me tell you guys that my two other exes were okay but Danni was drop dead gorgeous. I was infatuated the first night her and I met on Tinder (wow tinder should be paying for this). She was funny and good listener, and everything that Del was not. And things went well the first night that we met. Shortly thereafter, there was something that was not right and popped a red flag. She was very independent which in my mind was cool, but she was very very independent. She didn’t want to ever hangout because of her schedule but for someone who was infatuated, she didn’t want to spend time with someone that gave her the time of day. Which someone for me was something that I like to do. I want to get to know people and for me that level of attachment is a turn off for people. But for me I pushed those thoughts down and continued our relationship. That was the turn point again. We thankfully didn’t live together, and this was probably the shortest relationship in this entire story. But this had the biggest impact, I didn’t want another girlfriend that was like her. We dated, she needed space, and then wanted to date. She was very indecisive and didn’t want the same thing as me, and that she said things I felt were to make me happy.

 We broke things off in August of 2018 and that was final straw that broke the camels back. I stopped going the gym and felt on hard times. I got a new car and wanted to slam that thing into a pole. Things were bad and I felt like there was nothing that could make things. Then my most recent ex came into the picture. For once this was someone that was local, and that was amazing. I was homeless still and this was the perfect opportunity to move in and get on the rent that was already made. This time, however, I fell in love for the wrong reasons. But this time it took forever to realize what was wrong this time. I gained more insight on the relationship. She was very head strong but terrible with money, she was bad with doing things such as working out for herself. She always started a workout plan that would end with in her running to fast food. She would go back to being mopey and sitting around. Then things were made worse once the pandemic hit. I gained weight and had my anxiety and depression get worse. I didn’t see a way out. 8 months into 2020, she thought our relationship was toxic and choose herself and I think in my own mind, I knew we were done way before 2020 started. She wasn’t good enough to be around my son and I force myself into a relationship and caused it me more heartbreak. But this is where my epiphany started to happen. When we broke up, I didn’t cry. I didn’t get angry or do anything that would cause me to be toxic. Something in me that I haven’t felt since pre 2020 that would happen. I started school and focused on that for once. I pushed myself for one week to start running. I pushed myself to finish my runs every day. And this fire pushed me to realized that my hinderance with people is not with the people themselves. Its my own fault that I keep getting into relationships that do not work for me. I get into relationships where I find a person that seems broken and attract towards them. They aren’t relationships but me trying to fix things. That, couple with my depression lash outs and anxiety, make a tornado of shit that doesn’t work for anyone. And I think there is a correlation between me and my body type attracting people who are lazy and don’t want to work on themselves. But once again, I need to find myself and learn to love my self too. Dealing with depression and anxiety has caused me to learn that things in myself needs to change. Not only in my mind but physically. There are things that needs to be worked on and things that are coming in the following weeks related to thing as I’m still living with my ex that correlated with me. I hope that someone realizes that their situations differ, but we suffer from the same, disease and have to handle things in a different way.

Anyways guys take care and be safe. Treat each other well. Even though things are bad right now, things could be worse. Way worse. 

[bubblemintkitten]

Luca/Tan - first kiss. 1 of X

A/N: Okay, it’s June. It’s PRIDE month. It’s 2020 and the world is going to hell in a hurry, and I kinda had more than second thoughts about writing and publishing this. Because the BLM movement is really important, and I didn’t really want to drag any attention away from it. But on the other hand, we kinda need a little ray of sunshine, shone through a prism… So let’s set this off with claiming that it’s AU, because REASONS. Luca and Tan are both late 20’s or early 30’s. Luca served in the army before he decided to follow in the footsteps of his father and grandpa… The rest you’ll figure out on your own. -Oh, and yeah… This will turn into a series of ‘glimpses’ through the years.

Word count: 1495

 Working with him hurt. Not because he did anything wrong, but because he was so off limits. From the beaming white smile, to his glistening blue eyes, to that pretty blond ruffled mop he had on top of his head. Tan had to work hard not to stare.

They had worked together for three or four years now, and over that time he had learned that the team’s blond driver was nothing but pure sunshine. He was a force of life, and that smile of his was highly infectious.

But, off limits.

As easy going as he could be, he knew that Luca also had a hard and rough side. The ex-military side of him shone through any time they were in action. Then the blond was full business, and nothing like the human golden retriever he usually was.

Tan sipped his whiskey. It burned nicely down his throat. All the way down to his chest, before the warmth settled in his stomach.

Luca smirked and winked towards him, and suddenly he realized that his eyes had lingered a little too long on Luca’s plump lips. He could feel himself blush, and was thankful for the dimly lit bar they were in.

Street clapped Luca on the shoulder, leaning down to shout something into his ear without it being washed out by the loud bar and music. Luca shrugged, but then shook his head, and Street gave a thumbs up before he called something that looked like ‘keys under the mat’, which Luca nodded at. Then Street waved good bye to the rest of them before he left.

And Luca turned back towards him, giving a cheeky smile before he slammed down another shot of Tequila.

 *             *             *

 Luca had noticed that Tan sometimes rested his eyes on him a bit longer than expected, or necessary. But, could it be?

Nah, probably not. It was just his imagination, right? Right?

A guy he found that hot, couldn’t possibly be interested in him. Could he?

Any other random guy at a bar, and he would gladly shoot his shot, because heck… What did he have to lose? It wasn’t like he couldn’t get out of awkward, or slightly risky, situations. But, he worked with Tan, and a confessing what he felt on a Friday night would possibly be remembered when Monday rolled around and their next shift started.

Bit he couldn’t NOT do anything either. He had to do something, or else the whole situation would drive him crazy.

The agave alcohol was building his confidence and tearing down his sense of self preservation. A few more shots and who knew? Maybe he would? Maybe?

Heck, a few more shots and he could blame the tequila.

But what was he going to say come Monday if everything worked out? He hadn’t let it slip that he liked guys, he hadn’t confirmed that he liked girls either to be honest. But he guessed he was one of those guys where people just assumed that he was straight.

“Hey, Luca! There’s a girl for you!” Hondo’s elbow connected with his upper arm, acquiring his attention.

He looked over, it was a pretty little petite girl. Maybe a couple of years younger than him. Mid 20’s maybe?

“Nah, not really that into blondes.” He smirked, “Gotta start thinking about kids one day, and I’m not taking part of creating another blond haired, blue eyed person who has to deal with the SoCal sun. That’s just mean.”

“I don’t see you getting burnt to a crisp…”

“Nah, but… That girl has freckles. It’s cute, but… Sunburn…”

“Alright…” Hondo chuckled, “You would’ve made a cute couple though…”

“We would have looked like the perfect couple, designed by he-who’s-name-shall-not-be-mentioned…”

“HP or White House?”

“You get one guess.” Luca rolled his eyes,

“Not HP…” Deacon chuckled.

Luca nodded, “Correct.”

“How about that one….”

“Nice bouncy curls, but she would barely reach my midriff…” Luca frowned, “Man, my back would be in all kinds of trouble from bending over to kiss or hug her.”

Chris chuckled, “So, what is it… Do you want kids, or don’t you?”

“I want kids… In the future…” Luca shrugged, “But right now, not so much. I mean, I’m barely an adult yet…”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tan crack a smile, and his heart fluttered.

“Speaking of that, I need to be an adult tomorrow…” Deacon sighed, “I should leave, or the kids will get the better of me by lunch time.”

“Okay, say hi to Annie from us then…” Hondo chuckled, “Oh, and glass of water and a slice of bread before you turn in tonight, okay?”

Deacon nodded, “Thanks, you guys have fun. And Hondo, quit trying to hook the kid up with a girl, you should find one for yourself instead.”

Hondo just grinned, “See you Monday!”

  *             *             *

 A little while later, Hondo had the good sense to ask Chris if she wanted to dance for a bit. Making sure they both got their dance fix.

 *             *             *

 Now they were the only ones left by the table.

Tan took a good sip of his whiskey again. Letting the burning sensation soothe him a bit.

Luca smiled towards him, and he had to work to keep his eyes off the blonde’s lips.

“So, see anyone worth checking out?” Luca asked loudly, making sure Tan heard it.

He nodded, eyes glued on the man he found so pretty, “Yeah, definitely.”

Luca flashed one of his smiles again, the kind that did all kinds of things to something deep inside of him. How easy wouldn’t it have been to just lean in and kiss him? He was pretty sure the blond was a top notch kisser.

Damn, his eyes were glued to Luca’s lips again.

“You.” Realizing what he had just said, he cleared his throat tried to recover, “I meant, how about you? See anyone worth your while?”

“Yeah, there’s for sure someone I’d like to kiss…” Luca shrugged, not even trying to gaze across the room, his eyes flickering between Tan’s own lips and his eyes.

“But, you know how it is…” Luca laughed it off, “Can’t get everything you want, right?”

“Why not?”

“It would change things.” Luca ran a hand through his hair, a pink blush warming his cheeks. If it was emotion or alcohol was hard to tell. “And, I don’t want to lose anything I’ve got, you know…”

“Like, friendship?”

Luca nodded and looked away briefly, then he looked back at Tan, “Yeah. Friendship.”

Tan chuckled a little, “You know, the way you’ve slammed back shots the last 30 minutes, I’m pretty sure you could just blame them, if the outcome is not that great?”

“Yeah?” Luca chuckled, “You think so?”

“Yeah, I’d back you up…” Tan grinned back.

“What if I said…” Luca shrugged, “What if I said it was you?”

“Me?”

Luca nodded, but looked down at the table.

Tan poked him on the shoulder, forcing Luca to look back up. “What if I said, kiss me?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tan nodded, feeling like his heart was about to jump out of his chest when Luca leaned closer. And closer. And…

It was everything he had imagined it to be. A rough, calloused, hand around the back of his neck. Pulling him closer. A couple of fingers gently guiding his chin until his head was tilted the perfect angle for their first kiss.

A good kiss. Not wet and sloppy, not firm and emotionless.

Everything he wanted it to be.

Except, when they broke apart, he wanted more.

Neither of them spoke for a minute. They just studied each other’s face, looking for clues.

Figuring that Luca had put a bunch of effort into making the first move, he figured it was his duty to make the second one. “I could do this all night. If you let me…”

The flash of pearly whites was all the confirmation he needed. And they dove back in.

He still wanted more when they took a second pause, he needed more. And he felt it was mutual.

“Hey, why don’t you…” he swallowed hard, “Why don’t you come back home with me tonight? We can… Have a bit of fun… Maybe figure this out tomorrow…”

“Yeah?”

Tan nodded, “If you want to…”

Luca nodded, “I want to…”

Tan couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re good at this…”

“What?”

“Kissing.” Luca smirked, “A plus.”

“Pretty sure you’re better.” Tan chuckled, before leaning in once more.

 *             *             *

 “Would you look at that…” Hondo chuckled, bumping into Chris’s shoulder.

“I think we might’ve found a reason why your wingman game has been…”

“A failure?” Hondo smirked, “Yeah. I think so…”

Chris nodded, ”Might just be a one evening thing though….”

“Yeah…” he nodded, “Keep this a secret until they announce it?”

Chris nodded, “I think that’s what’s best.”

“Yeah.”

More to come...

[notes-from-my-journal]

lover series: london boy - t.h.

A/N: And the fluff continues...

Word Count: 2.2k

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal

And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey

In terms of the phrase “some days are better than others” this was definitely one of the others. You felt the homesickness physically churn in your stomach, thinking of LA and the whiskey you would order at the dive bar on Friday nights to celebrate the weekend. Spending last night with Tom was really tugging at your heartstrings, because the dive bar is how you guys ended up meeting. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” he walks up in his Spider-Man suit, smirking at you. Clearly thinking that he was the one on your mind, but you wouldn’t satisfy him that quickly. 

“Home, actually.” You smile up at him. That whiskey sure would help right about now. 

“Missing it?” he questions. “A little bit. Must be nice for you to be filming in London.” 

“Yeah, it actually is. My mum and brothers are going to visit set later today. You should say hi if you, you know, you want,” he stutters the last part out as he tries to cover it with a cough. 

You smile back, equally as nervous. “That’s moving a little fast, don’t you think, Holland?” 

“They already know you basically…”

Your eyebrows furrow. “How so?”

“I may have told them about you…” 

“Tom…”

“No-not like that darling!” Darling. “I just mean, I talk about the cast and crew all the time, and they notice you in particular because you’re the crew member I talk about the most, and I-”

“Tom. It’s sweet, really.” “You think so?”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “I’d love to say hi.” 

His eyes widen. “That would be great! I’ll let you know when they’re here yeah?”

You smile and nod, hearing his name called in the distance on the set. 

“I gotta run, I’ll see you later darling!” he runs off before you can even give him your own nickname. 

It had been less than 24 hours since you had kissed and spent the night just talking about all the feelings you had kept inside for so long until you both fell asleep. You both had to be up at 5am for a 6am call time, but the adrenaline kept you energetic regardless of the three hours of sleep you had gotten. 

Watching him run off into the distance, you were glad you both admitted that “close friends” wasn’t working for you anymore. You knew that “just friends” wouldn’t work the second you met him in the dive bar in LA all those months ago, but to have it reciprocated was a new level of relief you didn’t know you’d be able to achieve. 

But something happened, I heard him laughing

I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent

six months earlier...

You had walked in with your roommates, hoping to forget about the fact you had the biggest interview of your life earlier that day and that it could make or break your career in the entertainment industry. 

The bar was slightly full, still being early in the evening, and while all the girls went to dance you decided to sit. You had a difficult time bringing yourself to dance with strangers, and sometimes sitting and watching was more relaxing and less anxiety inducing. Turning around, you see one of them already dancing with a tall, gorgeous blonde with the brightest shade of blue eyes. Score. 

“You fancy the seats more too, eh?”

And you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the prettiest voice you had ever heard. The words rolled out of his mouth like honey, quiet and smooth and delicious. You turned towards the owner to see an even prettier set of curls on the warmest face you had come across in any bar. 

“A little bit,” you smile. He looked familiar. Why did he look familiar?

“Not ashamed to admit I love them. Dancing isn’t really my thing - unless it’s choreographed anyway. Harrison, on the other hand,” he nods towards the tall boy behind your roommate. “My roommate is entertaining him just fine I think,” you gesture towards her, giggling. 

He smiles, the kind that reaches your eyes. He sticks his hand out, “I’m Tom.” 

And then it clicks. You grab his hand, “Thought you looked familiar. I’m Y/N.” 

“Hoping you’re not going to call the paps on me. Trying to lay low tonight,” with any other guy that happened to be a hot celebrity, you would have scoffed. But he was clearly joking around, trying to be lighthearted. It was sweet. “I actually am not a superfan...I just happened to interview for crew today. For the new movie.” 

His eyes light up at the mention of work, “No way! That’s awesome. What do you do?”

You sigh, “Gaffing mostly. Nothing exciting. I really want to produce...eventually.”

“You will be sooner than you think,” he smiles. How could a stranger have more confidence in you than you had in yourself? “Tell you what. If I could just get your phone number, I’ll make sure to put a good word in and then keep you updated.” 

“Put a good word in? You barely know me!” you try to be serious, because this was your career after all, but it was Tom fucking Holland. Why would he do something like this? 

“Because you seem lovely, dedicated to your job just by the look in your eyes when you said the word ‘gaffing’,” he stops to laugh, “and it does help that you are one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever met.” You scoff. 

Charming. 

And the rest was history. 

They say home is where the heart is

But that's not where mine lives

You were more than relieved to have your feelings towards him be out in the open, but that didn’t mean it was open to everyone else necessarily. You were starting to get distracted at work not only having Tom there, but also thinking of meeting his family? Who apparently already knew about you. 

Shaking off the stress, you continue setting lights and building equipment - something you could do mindlessly while keeping focus somewhere that wasn’t your hot coworker. 

Before you knew it, it was your lunch break. Walking back to the trailer, you feel another hand grab yours delicately. And there he is, once again grinning from ear to ear making you breathless - as if his hand grabbing yours wasn’t stressful enough. 

“Hey! The gang’s all in my trailer, wanna come over for a few?” You swallow thickly. 

You nod and try to manage a smile. “Sounds great.”

You were convinced you had blacked out during the walk to the trailer, just from pure panic. Before you knew it the nicest British family was standing in front of you, with the cutest dog ever. An adorable puppy to add to the fun? Your heart rate was definitely going to set off the Health app on your watch. 

“Darlin’, this is my mum, and my brothers - Sam, Harry, and Paddy,” Tom smiles and gestures to each member. 

“So nice to meet you Mrs. Holland,” you reach out to shake her hand, which she uses to pull you in for a delicate hug.

“Lovely to meet you darling!” This family and that damn darling. “I’m Nikki. Mrs. Holland is a little older sounding than I like,” she laughs. 

“Hi guys, nice to meet you,” you turn to the brothers. Paddy’s eyes had widened when he got a good look at you, and before you could ask why he answers.

“You really are as pretty as Tom described,” Paddy laughs with a blush. 

“Paddy!” Tom yelps. You feel your cheeks heat up. 

“I’m flattered, thank you,” you chuckle. 

“Alright, well I...have to get back to set so you guys can be on your way!” Tom hints through gritted teeth to his family. 

“Oh but my dear brother, we have no idea how to get out of here,” Harry chuckles. “Maybe she can show us the way?” he turns to you with raised eyebrows. Well. 

“Of course,” you smile. No need to be rude, no matter how nervous you were. 

Tom groans, “Please don’t embarrass me anymore. I want Y/N to like me enough to hang out with me tomorrow.” 

You whip your head around, “We’re hanging out tomorrow?”

“Might want to ask the girl out before you assume things, brother,” Sam laughs. 

“Shut up Sam! Yea-ah I was hoping I could show you around Camden Market tomorrow morning? Since it’s our day off but you don’t have to I know you probably have better things t-”

“Tom!” You interrupt. He whips his head up to look you in the eyes. They’re always pretty, but when filled with hopeful anticipation they glow more than usual. How could you say no to that?

“I’d love to. Tomorrow morning. Now let me show your family how to get out of this maze.”

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon

The next morning Tom is at your hotel door at 9 a.m. - which is considered sleeping in to you two with your schedules - with your coffee order and a smile. Always smiling, even in the morning.

Tom was probably one of the only people that could cause you to smile in the morning. A morning person you were not. And Tom knew that. 

“Vanilla latte,” he hands you the warm cup. You sigh as it rests in your hands. Taking a sip, you close your eyes to enjoy warmth filling your body. 

“Thank you,” you smile. 

“No worries, pretty girl.” You take a pause.  

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you use something other than ‘Dah-lin’,” you giggle trying to mimic his accent. 

“Well, darling is common. I’m trying to not use common names for someone special,” he winks. Damn he was smooth. “Also that is a horrible accent!”

Okay maybe not that smooth. 

He leads you from the hotel down the streets of suburban London, people barely waking up and opening the curtains. Being up early on occasion was nice, just for the sake of the quiet and low risk of running into fans. Regardless of the time, Tom still wore his signature black hoodie when he didn’t want to be noticed. It was sweet that he wanted to hang out with you as privately as possible, and you feel your sleepiness roll off of you as you smile. 

“What’s so funny?” He chuckles. 

“Nothing’s funny. You’re just cute,” you giggle - eyes wide and hands covering your mouth after you realized what you had said. He pulls your hand away from your lips (rosy from the cold). 

He likes my American smile

“Don’t cover that smile up pretty girl” he smirks as he kisses the corner of your mouth. You could definitely get used to this. You know you’re probably making heart eyes when you realize he’s staring at you. 

Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you

“Everything okay, Tom?” 

He smiles, but it’s not playful per usual. There’s something deeper behind it. “Yeah I just...I fancy you.”

The moment is ruined when you start laughing. He rolls his eyes. 

“I was trying to be romantic!” 

“That was the most British thing you’ve ever said, I’m sorry!” You attempt to stop laughing while he pouts at you, eventually calming down and kissing his cheek. “I fancy you too, dah-lin,” you giggle. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates

So I guess all the rumors are true

A few nights later, Tom asked you to come to dinner so he could catch up with his best friend, Harrison, near his suburban hometown a few miles away from set. You reluctantly agreed, hoping that it wouldn’t be too weird (unlikely for you and your social skills) but after realizing Harrison was the tall blonde from all those months ago at the club, your heart rate steadied a bit. 

You went to the diner Tom and Harrison would go to when they were younger, and you were surprised at how easy the conversation flowed. By the end of the night, you and Harrison were laughing about how your roommate ghosted him and how much you loved pancakes. 

“Guys I’m literally right here,” Tom rolls his eyes. 

“I think I might like Haz more, babe,” you laugh. Harrison doesn’t say anything when he notices the pet name, he just smiles and feels confident that you would be around for a long time. 

The next morning, paparazzi photos of you three in the diner show up along with you and Tom leaving together. He drinks his tea and slams his phone on the table in his trailer. 

“Fucking hell! I can’t get any privacy even in the suburbs,” he groans. Your eyes soften with empathy. Walking over to where he was sitting you try to calm him down. You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles. He glances at you, and the anger slowly dissipates. 

“It’s okay. At least they’re not rumors right? We really are seeing each other,” you try to amuse him. He lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I guess you’re right. Thank you, pretty girl,” his smile returns and he kisses you gently while you keep your grip on both of his hands. 

“Hey Tom?” 

You know I love a London boy

Boy, I fancy you

“Yeah baby?” 

“I fancy you,” you smile.

[jayblaah]

8:53PM Monday thoughts.

So I’m sitting in my chair right? Just finished a episode of Chefs Table on Netflix. It was season 2 and the episode is called Gaggan Anand. This guy is pretty inspirational to me. Really jumped the gun and asking for an internship at a #1 restaurant at the time El Bulli.  

It made me think do I make another risky jump and go somewhere where its terrifying and where I don’t belong? Humble myself again with food? 

I always wanted to go to SoCal and try out their food and learn from the best chefs out there. Just to see something new and exciting ya know? But I also know NorCal also has the same to offer and maybe even more? Especially with the City (San Francisco). BUT this is a big BUT I’ve made a promise to someone that I’d join her in the city and where we would live our dreams together. She’d be an artist and I’d be a chef ya know. I know she won't like it at all but I think she’ll understand.   - Maybe sometimes you gotta drift away in order for you to grow?

Does that sound true at all? Of course it would be painful. Getting out of your boundaries sure is painful. But you’ll be in my thoughts you'd kill me if I just left out of nowhere lmao. Don’t worry. 

I don’t really imagine myself moving away in the future but who knows? Life sure is full of surprises. Kind of listening to this playlist to remind myself of what I do it for. I gotta stop overeating and get back on my healthy route fuck door dash. I gotta look good as a chef but in a healthy manner. No weed or drinking that type of shit. Or just kind of in moderate sessions but don't be dependent on it. Your self control is what is what impresses myself the most. 

Not gonna lie being a sous chef is hard but I know it'll be even harder for when I move on. Mostly because I think god didn't make me leave or put me in a different position just because of this opportunity to further myself and teach me. I probably don't understand it now since I'm only 23. Most success happens later in life you just gotta no give up. Well I guess you can doubt yourself sometimes? Butt don't let it be overbearing to a certain point to where you break and can’t come back. 

Everyone breaks at some point in their life. but that's normal. I’m happy I am more in tune with my emotions. All these little things say it be drama, or whatever is just so so so small compared to what others deal with on a regular basis. But I can’t relate to them because I haven't experienced that yet. I do feel for them though I wish you best. 

I may not know you and life may seem unfair but if you find a reason to keep going you're doing just fine. Keep on and if we ever meet I’ll try my best and help. I seem like a healer now a days. People come to me with their problems I don't mind but it is somewhat annoying? Taxing? But I would rather they come me then keep it bottle in. Because at one point I did that. Not healthy whatsoever. 

[notesonnotes]

Rosedale. Herkimer 2009. Some friends and I had followed Honor Bright; The Doppler Effect and Lacerda to a show in Herkimer, NY. We'd never seen Rosedale, or heard of them. We didn't know what to expect when we saw them setting up. I was in awe of the sheer height of their front-man, Mike. (I am a over a foot shorter than he is, and at that point he was the tallest person I'd ever met.)When they started playing, I was in awe of their drummer, Emerson Tavares (he played faster than most drummer I'd seen). After the show, we saw a big purple bus, and we had the chance to hang out with Mike and Emmo. A week later, we'd get to meet Mitch and Zan in Watertown, NY. We were hooked. Soon after, we got them to our college in Northern New York.Since then, I've watched Mike progress from the 4 man band to the last solo act in Toronto in 2018. He is multi-talented, and probably one of the most down to earth people I've met. He takes time before, during, and after shows to talk with as many people/fans as he can, and has been an inspiration to many that have followed his journey.Today, we're going to take a look at where he came from, and where he plans to go. Take a few and read through. It's the anniversary feature for Notes on Notes! What better way to celebrate that with the one who inspired it all?!

NON: Rosedale was an early project of yours as a teenager in Brampton, ON. What brought you and your then band mates together?

ML: Pretty much skateboarding sparked it all. The skate scene was really booming in Brampton (and everywhere) as I was becoming an adolescent. Tony Hawk Pro Skater was huge, all the skate magazines were doing well, all the local skate parks were packed and hosting contests, pro skaters were celebrities- it was wild! I've always been pretty awkward on a skateboard and could never really improve past the basics, but I was definitely making progress on the piano so my parents finally granted my wishes to switch to classical guitar, as I'd been begging for years and the skate culture was surrounded by a lot of guitar music. After about a year of struggling to figure out how to play "cool guitar" I started convincing my friends to learn drums and bass and would try to jam with them. That led me to connecting with a friend I hadn't really seen since kindergarten; Nick, who was a pretty solid drummer. So I started showing him songs I'd written and we'd jam at his place on weekends. I think it started lighting a fire for a few of my school and skater friends as they started getting more serious about learning instruments and starting bands. We'd eventually teamed up with Mitch and Jon's band, as their drummer, Emerson, was still figuring out how to drum. Fun fact, there was about a month or two where I was kicked out of the band because my squeaky voice, cheesy lyrics, shrill guitar tone, awkward stage presence, and thick wavy blond mushroom cut were all just too unbearable. (They were very blunt and honest with me on that phone call...) So Jon started singing and they eventually called me back into the new band to play guitar, piano, and sing super high emo backup vocals. From there; we replaced Nick with Sam, named the band Rosedale (because when our gear was stuck at Nick's house we'd walk up Rosedale ave to the local music store to practice and write). Then we eventually replaced Sam with Emerson. Me and Jon started taking vocal lessons from our friend Steve, who was a drummer and backup singer in one of our favourite local bands, By Permit Only. Eventually we just asked him to be our lead singer and after recording our first EP with him, he quit the band and I took over lead vocals again. I met Zan in our high school, Mayfield. He was a bassist in the music program so I'd jam with him from time to time during lunch in our school's practice rooms. He eventually replaced Jon... I guess I could have just summed it up with "Skateboarding and school" but we all have a little more time these days so why not take a trip down nostalgia lane!

 NON: You've had 5 EP's and albums over the years; could you describe the progression of your creative process through the years? 

ML: It's pretty crazy for me to look back on. We recorded Past Times With Old Friends in Sean Andrew's little bedroom on a Line 6 bean-shaped Pod with Cue-base on his laptop. We'd tried to record about 3 demos with 3 different producers prior to that EP but nothing ever got finished. Each time we'd record I'd learn a few more things about how to engineer. Back when we had Sam in the band, one of his dad's friends "Stereo Mario" (one of the 3 producers that we'd demo with) would teach me the basics of Pro Tools and I was very eager to learn more. Before ever using any real recording equipment/DAW I'd multi-track covers of my favorite songs onto three-and-a-half inch floppy discs with my Yamaha Clavinova (a multi-patch midi amplified keyboard from the mid 90s), drums and all! So I kinda came full circle back to being a solo, multi tracker, multi-instrumentalist after having several different band mates and methods. The big turning point in my progression as an artist and producer, though, came when I started an internship at Drive Studios in my senior year of high school. I believe everyone needs a roll model and mentor to really progress and the owner of that studio, Steve Rizun, took me under his wing and pulled me in the right direction. Not only did he train me to be a sound engineer and let me work with some world class punk/prog/metal/emo bands, but he also would show me how to make additional production for Rosedale's sound and how to bring it to our live show. I became obsessed with songwriting and production and as soon as I graduated I worked to save up for a Macbook and an audio interface...and a lot of other gear! Had it not been for Steve, I probably would have wasted a lot of money going to a college to learn a fraction of what he was teaching me for free; hands on in the most punk rock environment! Since that internship he's mixed and mastered all the Rosedale records, mixed a handful of my live shows, he even showed me the ropes of being a live sound engineer, and continues to be a great ear to for mixing and advice! I've had a lot of other great friends show me how to edit video, hold a drumstick, where to book shows, gear advice etc. Even though I'm kind of a "Lone Wolf" I guess my process has always been to keep creating and ask for help and advice along the way from those who are more experienced (and YouTube tutorials, of course). Now that I'm in a new market playing with a new band (Mainsail in San Diego) I feel like I'm teaching and working more often than I'm learning. And that's been really healthy too! 

 NON: How has the journey from "Past Times" to your most recent projects helped you grow/learn as a musician/artist?

ML: What a journey it has been! As I'm sure any artist or even entrepreneur could relate, The Faces sang it best; "I wish that I knew what I know now when I was younger!" I think the biggest difference is the decision making ability. I used to take so damn long to make such bad decisions! Debating who, what, where why- it's important to think things through but sometimes you gotta just leap and learn from it. If you keep questioning things you'll never know. Also, the more I learn the more I realize how much more I still don't know! And that's part of the climb. Even now, being in the beginning stages of getting my 10,000 hours on the drums, I look back to how I used to play, say, 100 hours ago- and shake my head. That can sometimes be humiliating and demotivating while knowing you're still at the bottom of the mountain- or even just dealing with the ongoing yin and yang of confidence/hope vs. doubt. But what usually gets me to keep on going is to remind myself to just be better than I was yesterday. For a long time I was holding myself to the standards of my heroes which usually just creates inauthenticity, bad technique, bad decisions, clutter, and setbacks. Sometimes I'm worse than I was yesterday so I need a little push and that's okay, too! The journey from Past Times to Again was a big balancing lesson of letting things go while learning you can always do more to improve. And it's no surprise; but the newer the album, the more proud and less embarrassed of it I am! 

 NON: You've played bass in Mainsail for roughly a year, maybe a bit more; how did you meet up with them? What spurred you joining?

ML: Yeah since February 2019 I've been in Mainsail. I've been friends with them since 2017 and they really helped me get my show in front of a lot of people in San Diego. When I finally moved out there Nick was really cool about bringing me out to shows and jamming together. They needed a new bass player so I figured I'd offer and it just all escalated really fast. Since finally accepting that it was time to move on from the name Rosedale I've had a lot of luck with being a sort of "yes man". I'm usually very strict with staying on the path to my vision, as it requires a lot of time, but since moving and letting go of the past I've been finding that sometimes letting the wind take you where you're needed can be really beneficial. And a lot of great things are starting to happen for Mainsail so it has been fun. It has also kind of kept a stream of new listeners seeing what Rosedale is all about too so that is a nice bonus. 

 NON: You've performed at the House of Blues in San Diego; how was the experience for you?

ML: It was one of the best moments of my life playing that stage in front of so many great SoCal people, some who have been supporting Rosedale over the years. That has always been one of my favorite venues and since moving to San Diego I've seen a lot of amazing shows there. House of Blues is always great in Boston and Anaheim too. I'm really grateful that they give independent acts like myself not only a chance to play there, but they really give you the same professionalism and respect as they do to the giant national acts, it's pretty remarkable. I really hope they're doing okay during this pandemic and I hope all venues find a way to pull through this. I can't imagine how tough it's getting for some. 

NON: You've toured the U.S. and parts of Canada multiple times; played on a stage at Warped Tour, and toured Europe: What would you say is your most memorable moment?

ML: That is a great but very tough question. Playing in Vienna Austria in 2016 to a bunch of kids that knew my songs is definitely up there. But 2012 Warped Tour was probably the most fun and rewarding summer of my life. It was a grind and very uncomfortable at times, but there were so many epic moments packed into that summer that I look back on in disbelief. The biggest turning point was about two weeks into the tour in Minnesota (I think it was Minnesota...) I got called into the Warped production office and was told to check in with Kevin every morning for any open stage time, given a wristband, and some tasks to help out with in production. I played my DIY one-man-show in the parking lot that same night as kids were leaving the festival (as I would every night) and while I was standing at my merch table selling stuff and taking photos, I noticed that Ryan Dawson (from All Time Low) and Anthony Raneri (from Bayside) were hanging out watching. Once things slowed down they came over and bought 10 CDs each! It was so cool of them to even give me the time of day, let alone buy CDs to (probably) give out to people on the tour. I had a similar experience with Caleb Shomo (from Attack Attack/Beartooth) the year before outside of Cuyahoga Falls Warped tour. I had a drummer and bass player with me at the time and Caleb stood front & center to watch our whole set while kids kept coming up to him for autographs and I could see him pointing at us saying good things to all the kids. After our set he handed me all the cash he had in his pocked and apologized for not having more, I gave him some merch and we chatted for a good 15 minutes about how being an artist is a roller coaster and good things come and go, encouraging me to hang in there. He kept emphasizing how he just considered himself and everyone on the main stages lucky. All of those memories are enough motivation to last a lifetime and they're also reminders to pay it forward.

 NON: Touring as much as you have, there must have been some odd things that have happened. What has been the strangest thing to happen to you while you were on the road?

ML: Lots of strange tour stories for sure. The little ghost girl I caught on camera in the former German concentration camp was pretty crazy. (You can find it in the RosedaleMike Europe Tour Blogs via Tumblr if you don't believe!) It always freaks people out when I show them. And I remember everyone's reaction in the van right after I caught the footage. But the craziest thing that happened to me...there's been so many hard luck slaps in the face, as so many touring bands have also experienced, I'm sure. One time I had this great opportunity to be the opener/direct support for Everlast in Colorado Springs. I had just released self-titled, the tour was going well, and this Everlast show was sold out at Black Sheep (a great venue!) I had a day off so I got to town a day early to be extra prepared. While at the gym I received an email from the venue that Everlast had to postpone due to weather conditions. So now the show was cancelled and I offered to find local bands to fill the night for the venue so that I can still play for my small crowd. I went straight to a library for wi-fi and started plugging away on my laptop, emailing bands asking if they wanna do me a solid and play a last minute show at Black Sheep tomorrow night. I had two confirmed, told the venue, and they announced on the Facebook event page that there will still be a show but Everlast will be rescheduled, and they made me a host so I could update the event as I confirmed new acts. Some kids in Montana saw this and started saying that Rosedale cancelled the Everlast show! It turns out that they just randomly decided to troll me. They were even sending pictures of these little ridiculous hand written notes they made that read something like "I am cancelling the show - Rosedale". They were leaving random comments claiming that they were Everlast and bashing my fans as they tried to help clear the confusion. People were messaging me asking "Why'd you cancel the show?!" I had to explain to them and the venue what was really going on. The venue was in shock watching it all happen too and they said they have never seen anything like that, ever. I went to a local show that same night and convinced a couple of the bands to play Black Sheep tomorrow. All four locals were really awesome and the show ended up turning out to be pretty well attended. Even some people that had Everlast tickets came out and had a great time. The venue was really impressed that I pulled an event together so last minute and I was stoked to have built another great venue relationship. I got in my van and started to drive to my next show in Flagstaff, AZ. As I was climbing a rocky mountain pass, some slick snow started coming down. I was pulling my trailer and sliding pretty bad until eventually I couldn't move anymore and was stuck on the side of the road. As the sun was coming up an emergency truck pulled up and started laying sand down in front of my van so I followed him until my wheels started spinning again and one wheel gripped to the sand while the other spun and blew my transmission and rear differential. I didn't make it to Flagstaff or the next five shows. $4600 repair bill. And the next show back in Encinitas was an afternoon show at a biker bar where I was told after my first set (of three) to pack up and only received one sixth of my guarantee as my fans started showing up for the second set. There ended up being some good intertwined in all of all of that but it was just such a frustrating and confusing week. Sometimes I swear I'm in a movie like The Truman Show. 

 NON: You draw a lot of inspiration from The Used; Blink-182 and Angels and Airwaves: Who else has inspired you along the way?

ML: I definitely have a lot of heroes. Death Cab For Cutie and The Postal Service, The Ataris, The Starting Line, Metro Station, Dashboard Confessional, Boys Like Girls, The Matches, Underoath, The Almost, Motion City Soundtrack, Red Hot Chili Peppers, All Time Low, The Band Camino, Owl City, Radiohead, John Mayer, Coldplay, Paramore, Yellowcard, Moneen, Boxcar Racer...That's probably 10% of them. I've been to a lot of great concerts and being six foot nine gives me a good view and very memorable experiences. 

 NON: Do you see yourself continuing making music or helping others in music in the future?

ML :Both!

 NON: What song that you've written do you connect with the most?

ML: That's always changing to be honest. Depending on where I'm at, what I'm doing/going through. It's usually the most recent song or idea I've written which doesn't get released for sometimes a year or two after. Of the songs I've release, that would be Sustain. That is the most recent Rosedale song I've written. I wrote it right before we started tracking Self Titled and Again and its kind of about being in both shoes of that Warped Tour situation I just mentioned. People sometimes ask if I'm referring to myself as the Star or the Kid in that song and the answer is both! I'm still that star struck kid who can't wait to ask my favorite artists a thousand questions but I also get a lot of questions from fans who are trying to start their own thing or make their passion their career.

SHOUT OUTS

Mainsail, Palapalooza Podcast, Time & Distance, I Set My Friends on Fire, Alex Baker, Plans, The Home Team, OCML, FXav, Adam Sisco, my parents and family, everyone at Gnarlywood, Abby Lyn Records, Jonny Cooper, my old band mates and everyone who's ever come on tour with me- Thank you all. And all the bands, artists, venues, studios, street performers, restaurants that are trying to make it through this lock down. Hopefully all this is over soon and there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Believe things will get better eventually and use this alone time to improve yourself. Keep supporting live music even if you're stuck at home. And if you need help reach out and ask. Let's all stay safe and help one another

 LINKS

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[thepropertylovers]

Feature Friday with Francis Dominic

Happy Friday! We’re so excited to start our Feature Friday series back today with such an amazing person. You probably already know him, follow him on Instagram, and adore his uplifting and beautiful feed, but you’re about to learn a little more about Francis Dominic today and we think you’re going to love him even more. See what we’re talking about below…

On an unforgettable city: My favorite place I’ve ever travelled to is probably Chicago. I loved it so much that I almost moved there. I fell in love with the city because it was fast paced but knew when to be slow. It was a healthy combination of NYC and SF, which I both grew up in. And the men there are so beautiful. I was in awe when I went to Boystown. I appreciated everything it had to offer and if timing was right, maybe I still would. 

On the surprising power of MySpace and acceptance: I grew up in The Bay Area. A small town village called San Lorenzo. Right above Oakland, right below Hayward, and across the Bridge from San Francisco. My little village was a little conservative. But me coming out to everyone in the 7th Grade (2006), everyone was so accepting of it. I think even my bullies become accepting of it. And after I did that, it sent a wave of people coming out. Still to this day, my friends I came out to are still my best friends today. When I came out, my sister actually found out via Myspace when I announced it there via Mspace Blog. Then a year later my parents found out on Myspace Page. My Dad was the one who accepted me first and my mom followed right after. I’ve had so much support through it all so it’s been great for me. On top of that, in high-school I was Cheer Captain and also Junior and Senior Class President. So growing up was so much fun! I wish there was more gay kids so I could’ve explored my sexuality more. 

On kindness: I was taught to be loving and kind. I followed that my entire life and all I’ve ever shown people is love and kindness unless they deserve something else. I’ve definitely opened my heart to a lot of people. OF course you get hurt along the way but you keep going. You don’t let heartbreak or terrible people slow you down. 

An interesting fact: Hahaha! Uhm, I’ve never been treated right by a man?! Hahaha! I’m just kidding. One interesting fact about me is that Francis Dominic is actually my first two names. 

On his favorite part about himself: MY LEGS. They’re so powerful and I love them so much!

On his greatest joys in life: Being with my friends, being with my family, creating from nothing to something, and watching my own dreams come true. 

On coming out:  It was 2006. I was in seventh grade, I was 13. And it was so nerve wrecking at first but everything went smoothly after. I came out to my friends first and they were all so supportive from the start. My Sister was my rock. My Dad was the most accepting at first and then my Mom followed. No backlash, thank the universe! Everyone was so kind to me. My heart was so open to everyone. 

On what really matters after coming out: I am so strong and I really didn’t care about what people thought. I just cared about what I thought and how I saw myself so that’s all that really mattered.

On his advice to LGBTQ+ youth: I would say you will have your time! Stay so fucking strong and get out of where you are so you can grow and blossom! Make sure you have a support system to fall back on. Just know that you’re so loved already by so many people that don’t know you. We’re all waiting for you because it does get better!

On an important realization: Realizing that seeking validation and attention from men wasn’t the way to go about life. You’ll be doing that forever. So I took myself on a self-love journey. I re-wired my brain to choose me and be on my side. It’s so hard being Gay, Person of Color, and flamboyant. It’s like all the things in life were made to be against you but regardless you keep going. The only validation you need is the one that comes from you. 

On his biggest inspiration: Myself. I can’t stress that enough. Loving myself and being so strong for myself has gotten me through a lot in life. I deserve the same opportunities, the same love, and the same happiness as my friends around me. SO if no one is going to give me that seat at the table, I’ll make my own table!

On his life in 5 years: Hopefully writing in your cottage with my 6th - 7th book and somewhere high on the NYT Best Seller’s. Also for my friends and myself to be at some point of a higher degree. And probably have my Mom move closer to SoCal. 

Thank you so much, Francis! You can follow him on Instagram here, and stay tuned for more Feature Fridays in the coming weeks!

[ahnsael]

I’m back at the hotel. I’m beat. But dang it, that was a great time.

I got to meet up with Andrew today (he texted me while I was on the Submarine Voyage and I didn’t see it until I got off, but the timing was perfect -- when I replied and told him where I was, it turned out that he was right on the other side of the Matterhorn). We watched the Tiki Room together before he went home to work on school stuff.

I didn’t run into anyone else I knew today (no random encounters with former bosses like yesterday, even though I kept my eyes open for one in Star Wars Land).

I’m rambling again, but this time I’ll include a cut so I don’t take up as much of your dashboard as I did this morning.

One thing I found amusing: after going to Oga’s Cantina, I decided to buy a DJ R3X Funko Pop (it was that or the DJ R3X bluetooth speaker, but...we’re talking $25 vs $150). I remembered seeing them earlier in the day, and I went to every store in Batuu trying to remember where I saw them. In the last store, I asked the cashier for help.

“Um, I think those are sold off-planet. We don’t have them on Batuu.”

(Which seems odd since that’s where DJ R3X actually is.)

I took the hint and realized that I must have seen them in the Star Trader, so I went there and sure enough, there they were.

But I wondered, if I really didn’t get it, if he would have been more specific. Like, I get that cast members are strongly encouraged to play roles in that part of the park (I overheard one lady talking about a friend’s ex-boyfriend who got his arms ripped off by Chewbacca for doing her wrong -- some people are INTO their roles, and I dig it), but...if I had been confused by the “we don’t sell them on Batuu” statement instead of putting together the clue, would he have sent me to Tomorrowland?

Ooh, a good hint could have been “I believe the travel company Star Tours services a planet where they are sold, maybe check the shop in their terminal if you happen to find yourself in that part of the galaxy.” That way he can keep it “in-universe” while being more specific.

Of course, he may have already thought of all that, and just didn’t need to use it because what he said was enough to remind me that I’d seen it in that other part of Disneyland that is full of Star Wars stuff, and I told him that I now knew where I had seen it.

This whole trip, cast members were great (with one singular exception, but not enough to mention it to anyone in authority -- she may have been having a bad day). Sure, there were cast members who weren’t 100% in it (but, honestly, I probably saw more great examples of great cast members in the past two days than I have in the past several trips combined); there were those I overheard talking about the party last night, or a dating issue that two security guards were talking about at the bag check, but...that stuff is going to happen all the time (and the guards did stop talking about it as I went through the metal detector and then gathered my things from the tray to re-stock my pockets with my wallet, phone, portable phone charger, charging cable, and the trading pins I brought, which I didn’t trade in the end because nothing I saw on cast member lanyards seemed “better” to me -- but I had a LOT squeezed into my pockets so I could avoid bringing a backpack or fanny pack so it took me a little time to get back together when I went through Security).

There was one cast member at the Temple of the Forbidden Eye today, though, that bugged me. We were in the film room and she was telling people to fill in all the available space (odd to me, since the FastPass merge point is at the temple entrance, and then I walked all the way to the atrium before running into the rest of the line inside, so it’s not like she was trying to get more people out of the hot sun -- as a guest I hear “fill in all available space” and I think “How many of these people are going to try to use this to cut ahead of other people in line?”).

She, in a very monotone voice, just kept repeating “Move forward, fill all available space, side by side, two by two, three by three.” I heard her repeat that, verbatim, at least 15 times within just a couple minutes. It was just annoyingly repetitive, especially with the same “ugh, why don’t these people get it?” tone that came across.

But, again, maybe she was just having an off day. 

And while I’ve had rides on the Submarine Voyage before, years ago before it was a Nemo thing, where a more accurate name would have been “body odor in a tube,” today was something else.

I mean, I’m in there for maybe 15 minutes with a handful of people who figured that since they were going underwater in a submarine today, they could skip the shower. And it was...like...GAG bad today. Even in the Tiki Room with Andrew, I was still coughing like I was trying to get the stench out of my throat (not HIS stench -- I detected no noticeable smell from him at all -- just from having breathed in the B.O. Cigar before that).

But I really feel for the pilot. They’re right in the middle, higher than the rest of us (and in comics, “stink lines” always go up, so I assume they do the same in real life). I hope they’ve got better ventilation up there than those of us under sea level have. Otherwise that’s got to be a miserable position to be in.

My portable phone charger worked like a charm, though. While I carried it and the phone in separate pockets most of the time, it was small enough that the two times I used it today, I could put it and the phone in the same pocket with my lightning cable connecting them.

When I got in line for the Submarine Voyage, I was down to about 30% battery (and this was at noon, about three hours after I got to the park). I got off the attraction at about 12:35, and I was already up to just over 80% (and the remaining battery in the charger was still 94%).

Granted, as I kept using the phone as it charged (I’d just bring the phone and charger out of my pocket together and hold them back to back as I used the phone), it was about 3 hours later that I unplugged it with the phone at 92%.

I recharged again later while I was in Oga’s, and got back up into the 80% range in the 45 minutes that I was in line for Oga’s and inside (I didn’t use my full 45-minutes of allowed time -- the sun was BEATING down on the line to get in, as I knew from having been out there, so I figured I’d help people get into the shade since I’d already had my two drinks).

Oh, and the Disneyland app LOST my Oga’s reservation.

Twice today it forgot everything about me. Even though I used its “touch ID” feature to sign in when needed, on one of those times I put my thumb on the main button and the app said I had entered the wrong password. I had to reset my password.

Then, even though I had seen the reservation for Oga’s on the app on my walk from Pirates (had to ride that one a second time) to Galaxy’s Edge, when I got there the reservation had completely vanished. There is a Guest Relations podium with a computer at the center of the three entrances to Galaxy’s Edge, so I stopped by there and said “This is probably going to sound like I’m making it up to get something I didn’t actually reserve, but...I had a reservation for this hard-to-get-into place and now it’s gone.”

(I didn’t think about the fact that I had an email verification...but at the same time, I also had email verifications for two other times since I modified the timing of the reservation twice this morning).

But the Guest Relations cast member assured me that if I did indeed have a reservation, then Oga’s would have my name, and I would be fine. And, sure enough, when I got there and explained, they asked for my last name and the time of my reservation, and verified that I did indeed have it.

But the Guest Relations guy said that they’ve had a lot of these types of glitches with the app.

I mean, it is a complicated app on their end -- keeping track of dining reservations and FastPasses for tens of thousands of people per day can’t be an easy feat. So I won’t say “Disney has got to be better than this” but...it would be nice. But still, the reservation wasn’t LOST lost, just lost on my end. They still made good on it, so I’m happy.

I can’t wait to do this again someday...but next time I may fly and pay for a shuttle to whatever hotel I stay at (this one isn’t bad; about a 20 minute walk to the main gate, but I could see maybe spending a little more to be closer next time). That drive into SoCal was rough, and I have to make it in the other direction tomorrow. It would probably be more expensive to fly, but would be an ease on driving stress.

I have zero regrets about the past couple of days. And maybe the date no-show was a blessing in disguise. I do like her, and it’ll be interesting the next time I talk to her to see whether she’s mad at me for not trying harder to get her here with me or whether she just actually blew me off, but...thinking back over the past couple of days (plus the day before, when I “met” her -- we had seen and talked to each other several times in the casino, but that was the first time that I spent that much time talking to her and ended up with the whole crush thing going on), either (1) I would have been moving too fast for her (she mentioned on that morning in the casino that she couldn’t believe how quickly I walked -- and I’m even faster in the park), or (2) she would have been annoyed at how I bounced around instead of taking the park in a clockwise/counter-clockwise direction (especially today -- I kept booking whatever the next available FastPass was until I had FastPassed everything, then I FastPassed some of them again), or (3) mad because she came all this way for me to call it an early both days of the trip (granted, I probably would have struggled through if she was keeping up, just out of pride, but still...whether that happened or not she would have gotten gross sweaty Kenny, not suave tie-wearing casino manager Kenny).

All in all, to the best of my recollection, here’s the list of rides I got in (not in the order I did them, but in the order that they’re listed on the Disney Wiki):

• Main Street Cinema (so glad they rescinded the “put merchandise in there” thing) • Buzz Lightyear Astro Blasters (I didn’t score as well as I would have liked, especially since I KNOW the diamond-shaped targets are worth the most -- my aim just wasn’t good today and I got just over 100,000 points) • Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage (I had heard that the show building was drained and that the subs just ran through a trough of water in the middle of otherwise dry scenes -- and while that seemed true in some scenes, in others I could see the surface of the water in the distance; I’d love to see a “water map” of that show building). • HyperSpace Mountain (twice -- once as a walk-on in the standby line with a 3 minute wait, the second with a FastPass because I HAD to do that one again, it was amazing, and it put Smuggler’s Run to shame). • Star Tours (every scene after leaving the spaceport was new to me). There was no Rebel Spy on our flight. After the cast member left the cabin and we heard the gangplank move out of the way, there was a couple minutes where nothing happened, then we heard an announcement that it was “taking longer to load R2D2 than anticipated,” and then when the ride did start and the Stormtroopers stopped us to check for the rebel spy, the area of the screen that is usually a photo of someone in the StarSpeeder was just a blank rectangle (and we had no empty seats, so it’s not like the cast member hit some “choose random” button and the computer chose someplace at which nobody was sitting). Still better than Smuggler’s Run. • Okay, why does that Wiki still list “Innoventions” as a “current” attraction? It’s been the Star Wars Launch Bay for a while now (and is currently closed so I didn’t go in). Then again, it also lists the Starcade as a “current attraction,” so maybe that wasn’t the best site to link to. • Snow White’s Scary Adventures. This one pissed me off. Nothing about the attraction itself or the cast members therein (though I was disappointed to see that the brass “book” at the entrance has been worn down to the point where it’s almost impossible to read the indented words). But I was in line behind a family. One lady, two guys, two kids. The two guys were going out of their way to tell the kids (probably one three years old, the other four) that the Evil Queen was going to throw them in her dungeon. And throwing in evil laughs (which I’m afraid I may have prompted because I touched the brass apple at the entrance and elicited an evil laugh from the Evil Queen, which they were emulating). By the show scene in the queue (where there’s a spell book an fake stairs and a bunch of money people have thrown in there for some reason but I know it goes to charity so do your thing if you’re ever tempted to throw money in there) they were telling the boy that they were going to put him in there, even lifting him up the bars in the windows and telling him that they could fit him through and that he’d be trapped forever. The mom was trying to reassure the kids that it was “a baby’s ride” and that it wasn’t scary (meanwhile I’m thinking of the dungeon scenes, and the scary forest, and the fact that “Scary” is IN THE NAME OF THE ATTRACTION FOR A REASON and that the kids are going to get off hating that she lied to them, but MORE angry at the guys who instilled all this fear into the kids, and then MADE FUN OF THEM for being scared. I had hoped the kids would handle it okay, but when I got off (I was in the car behind them), they were still in the exit walkway and the boy was crying so hard after the ride that he was drooling. People don’t realize how well kids remember things like this (as I can say from personal experience). I saw the cast member (who hadn’t heard everything that I had heard) hesitate before letting them ride, but I can’t blame him -- that’s on who I’m guessing was the kid’s dad and uncle (I don’t know those relations for sure, but both of those guys were complete assholes). I hope the kid ends up okay -- that came across, to me, as a scarring experience for him, and I hope I’m wrong. • Pinocchio’s Daring Journey -- I thought I was filming this one, and was really proud of how I framed everything as the ride went on (I was in the front row, holding my phone on the front of the vehicle, and adjusting the angle to get everything JUST right -- then realized at the end that I had been in photo mode, not video mode. I took a photo of an empty part of the queue as the ride started (which was blurry so I deleted it), and got no video at all. • The Sleeping Beauty Castle walk-through -- a group passed me in the first set of scenes, and literally tried to open every single door in the castle. Fortunately for Disneyland, all of those doors were locked. The effects in there have come a long way since I was a kid. • It’s a Small World. I live-broadcasted this one on Facebook, then got a copyright violation. I thought that song was copyright free, as it was written by the Sherman Brothers and then not copyrighted since they wrote it for UNICEF as “a gift to the children of the world.” I contested it, but then I researched and it seems that maybe the song WAS copyrighted (and the copyright renewed). I sent Facebook a message telling me that they could re-mute the video  since I had already claimed that I had permission to use the song (since I thought nobody owned it -- maybe it’s just the attraction recording that is copyrighted?). It got more attention on Facebook (both from Facebook and from friends) than I thought it would. • Matterhorn Bobsleds - Only one side working still after part of the mountain fell off not long ago. The side that was working (the right side/Teacups side) was not the one I thought would be working; but there’s still scaffolding and scrim up next to the Main Street-facing waterfall (which is currently turned off) where the rockwork fell off • Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. I rode it twice. Both times were on train #4. I was just glad it wasn’t train #6. They have a new track and, I’m told, new trains since the accident (I rode it once after the crash that killed Marcello Torres on the old track but never rode it again until the track replacement because I didn’t feel safe). But train #6 was the one that crashed in 2003 (it crashed twice more after reopening from the initial crash, though those ones were minor incidents of trains bumping into each other at the station). I didn’t do “the goat trick.” • Mark Twain Riverboat - This was the attraction on which I closed out my trip. A nice, relaxing ride around the newly-shortened (at least “newly” since the last time I was here” around the Rivers of America. Another guest pointed out kids on the WRONG SIDE OF THE RAILING along the river, and the cast member acted quickly. Good show, guest who reported it and cast member aboard the boat who handled it. • Jungle Cruise - Don’t remember skipper’s name (I was half-asleep by this point). They were middling-to-good. Decent deliveries, not the best bote of guests (it’s spelled “bote” when it’s the Jungle Cruise). • Indiana Jones - I mentioned my beef with one particular cast member. Do the “air jets” that are supposed to signify things landing on you ever fool anyone? Even when the attraction opened, it was an obvious play. • Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room -- saw this with Andrew (aka disfan here but he hasn’t posted in almost a year). My parents and lil sis were in Walt Disney World last month and the version they saw was shortened, mine was not. So I have that over them • Haunted Mansion Holiday -for the fist time (even though I had been here once since his re-debut) --- worked, and the effect is amazing. • Splash Mountain -- I tried to keep my phone dry. I succeeded (last time I was on this I broke my stepdad’s cell phone with water damage so I’n GOOD now since I kept my phone and charger dry), • Splash Mountain -- I did Single Rider and the cast member told me to go over a bridge that was roped of. My first time separating/disconnecting ropes since I was a cast member.

[youngcheesecakegladiator-blog]

Forever Betty

Recently, my sister Wendi provided us with a nostalgic glimpse at our shared past in a Google photo collection.[1]  Sis’ montage has “taken us all back” a bit, and prompted me to take a retro-active glance at some of the people (and characters) that we, as a family, shared that road less traveled by.[2] Unsure of exactly where to begin or “who” to begin with, I opted to start with an acquaintance of our mother’s, to see if I couldn’t retrace the ‘life steps’ of that old family friend.  (And yes, since my twelve year old self is holding her hand in the picture above, I’m pretty sure that you’ve already guessed who that old friend might be.) For those of you who never knew her, or would ever know of her, well, her name was Betty. I know it will come as no shock to some of you that I’ve gone looking for (and to see whatever became of) the ever elusive and “big bonneted blue-haired,” Amazon, Betty Bodine.  

Now don’t get me started about why my adolescent self has somehow been frozen in time while holding the statuesque Betty’s hand in that late 1960’s California backyard photo. The truth is Betty held sway over my little kid’s brain long before that picture was ever taken. Betty was someone not unlike a super-hero to my little seven year old self, and she’s become kind of an enigma to all of the “me’s” since then. You see in a lot of ways, Betty (just like her hair) was truly bigger than life. She was a working mom in 1963 (nobody’s mom actually went to work in 1963) and she drove a BIG brand new’63 Chevrolet Impala sedan painted (what else but?) a silvery misty blue. She dressed up too, and no, not like our “Nana” did - poor Nana - who actually had to go to work.[3] No, Betty Bodine dressed like she liked to go to work. She raced off in that blue Impala every day, cigarette smoke trailing alongside the exhaust and her blue tinted hairspray. She was somehow free and yes, even (oddly) glamorous.                                                           

For those of you that never knew them, Betty lived with her husband Dave and her son Ricky. Betty worked at Hartfield’s at the local mall, a sort of ‘cut-above-average’ (not really…) dress shop that our mom could never afford to shop at. Dave was a “good old boy,” and Ricky was Dave and Betty’s only child. Ricky was kind of a sullen kid, a spoiled kid really; one who liked to play with matches alongside his chemistry set, and dig big deep army style “fox holes” in the backyard. After playing “army” Ricky would relish melting his toy soldiers, and when no one was looking (except maybe me) play “monsters” with them - and all this way before anything like The Walking Dead was ever thought of.[4]  Dave and Betty gave little Ricky whatever he wanted, and Ricky never wanted for anything. In fact, Ricky didn’t just have one bedroom for all his mostly melted toy soldiers. Ricky Bodine had two. Betty had torn down a wall between two rooms so little Ricky could have one giant bedroom – separated only by Ricky’s optional giant slider door between the two. All of this so Ricky could spread out with his many gifts (and melted soldiers) about the place. I think Ricky thought he was.                                               

Ricky was older than me. I think by about three years. It wasn’t that Ricky was a mean kid or anything. It was just that he was kind of a loner. Ricky didn’t talk a lot, but truthfully, next to Betty, I thought Ricky hung the moon. He had a wiseacre way about him that just said “totally cool” to my seven year old self. But like my sister Darla would say about him many years later, it always seemed like Ricky was just someone who was bound to meet a “bad end.” I sure hope that didn’t happen.

But back then though, at least for me, the Bodine family was kind of the bomb. Ricky’s dad, Dave, seemed to stay home all the time (our dad was always gone) while Betty flew off in the Impala to, of all exciting places in 1963 - the Mall. (Our mom drove a red Ford Falcon Station Wagon that looked like it was on loan from Search and Rescue.) Betty had a super cool blue tinted bee-hive hair-do. Our mom had little pink curlers that smelled like a permanent solution and scarf Nana had given her for Christmas. Dave did cool stuff when he was at home, like chop off the heads off of hundreds of (dead) fish and stuff them into wishing well planters he had made out of bricks in their front yard. (So cool!) Dave was always making something out of bricks. But truth be told, I think Betty seemed to like that Dave was busy making things out of bricks. And honestly, looking back, I don’t remember a lot of “Dave and Betty” moments, only Dave or Betty, or Ricky moments.

Betty liked to play cards, and I think Dave did too - though it seemed I played more cards with the crafty Ricky than either of those two. Betty liked to play Canasta – you know, with those HUGE decks of cards and extra suits of everything. [5] Betty did teach me how to play Canasta. I think she taught my mom to play Canasta too. In the very back of my mind I think I had a sleep over at Ricky’s (in his two bedrooms!) one night while mom and dad played (what else) Canasta with Dave and Betty. The cigarette smoke was so thick. I don’t think I knew where my sisters were. It seems like Wendi was a baby asleep in a crib in Betty’s living room. Maybe Darla was with me and Ricky. Ugh, girls.

We moved away from the Bodines’ in 1964. Betty and Dave seemed to split up not long after that, and well, Ricky looks to have stayed living with Dave.[6] Betty moved away, though I was never quite sure where. I know that Betty and Ricky came sans Dave to visit us at our new house up north once, but after that there was no word of Betty or Ricky. Mom said that Betty had gone away, that she’d had a baby boy out of wedlock with “some man” and well that was sort of the end of it. Mom said that Betty’s life was complicated, and that Betty had had to call the baby “a Bodine” when he really wasn’t. I remember that didn’t make much sense to me at the time. Once about 1970, after we’d returned to SoCal, Mom did drive back to see Dave. I remember being sad because Ricky wasn’t there. (Who was I gonna melt stuff with?) Ricky was older and gone by 1970. Dave seemed to live alone with nothing but tropical fish tanks everywhere. Dave had gone from cutting the heads off of fish for wishing well planter boxes to keeping fish in tanks instead. Dave had always seemed kind of lonely. I think mom was lonely too when she went to see Dave. He schooled me in the art of keeping an aquarium while he and Mom kind of smiled a lot at each other. And then, as quickly as we’d arrived back at Dave’s that last time, we were gone. I guess for me (and for mom) that was the last of Dave.                                                             

So in light of all “this,” and in light of the last nearly sixty years, well, what can I say, I wanted to know more. I wasn’t sure where to begin, but I figured I’d start with Ricky, and see where that might take me. While I had a general idea that Ricky was about 3 years older than I was, I had no clue how old Dave and Betty were – they were just older than mom and dad. To do this I was going to have to fall back on what I like to call our “vestigial memories,” and hope that those memories would lead me to the right place. (And that I would not just be bullshitting myself so to speak.)

Allowing for time and place and an approximate year of birth, finding Ricky was easy enough. I knew that Dave and Ricky had stayed in Fullerton at least until 1970, so that meant that Ricky (if he’d completed school) had probably gone to a local high school. Ancestry.com has a pretty good selection of yearbooks, so I was able to find a likely candidate for “Ricky Bodine” in the Placentia, California El Dorado High School year book for 1968. In comparing this yearbook picture to those backward pictures of Betty and Ricky from the late 1960’s I was pretty sure I had the right guy. Still I needed more.                                                                                                                    

So feeling confident, I decided I’d see what I couldn’t find out about Dave and Betty. Instantly, I had no luck. Armed only with the names of “Dave” and of Betty,” and with an address in Fullerton, California from 1963-1970, I got nowhere fast. And sure, there were PLENTY of “Dave Bodines” and no shortage of “Betty Bodines,” but none seemed to fit quite right. Ugh. So I went back to “Ricky” and took a chance. I looked to see if it was possible that Ricky had been born in California. Using an approximated birth year of “1952,” the great Gods of Google, and Ancestry.com, I almost immediately came back with a birth record for a “Rick Marshal Bodine,” born at Los Angeles, California, 6 June 1952. [7] Hmmmm….maybe? This record at least gave me a place to look – and a valuable clue. This Rick Bodine’s mother’s maiden name was “Marshall.” From there I decided to play it “random” hoping that some sort of a marriage record might “pop - up” if I simply sought out any sort of a marriage record between a “Marshall” and a “Bodine.” It was kind of a long shot that they would be “our” Ricky’s parents – and that his parents Dave and Betty would have necessarily have been married in California, but hey, that what we genealogist types do, right? 

No luck – I did not locate any marriage record for a “Bodine to a Marshall.” But I did find something else. If you can’t find a marriage record, what’s the next best thing? You guessed it – a divorce. The California Divorce Index led me to a divorce at Orange County, California, December 1967, for “Othel David Bodine,” and his wife “Mary Elizabeth Marshall.” [8] With this, I was pretty sure that I had the parents of “Rick Marshall Bodine,” aka Ricky Bodine. Now I don’t know about you, but who names their son “Othel?” (No wonder he went by “Dave,” and even less a wonder that I couldn’t find him.) And stupid me for looking for a woman named Betty. (Duh!) Very few ladies are actually ever named “Betty.” I will admit though that I didn’t expect Betty’s first name to have actually been “Mary.” However at least now I had a way to fill in some of the blanks.

Regrettably I found that Othel David “Dave” Bodine died in Arizona in 2003. He was a veteran of World War II, and is honored there with a military headstone. The records are unclear if he ever remarried or not, and I haven’t followed that rabbit down the hole too far just yet. He looks to have followed Ricky to Arizona (or vice-versa) where Ricky looks to be living now in Mesa, with what is probably Ricky’s second wife. Ricky doesn’t look to have met a bad end at all near as I can tell. Family trees list Ricky as the father of four children and several grandchildren. You go Ricky Bodine!

Betty’s life has proven to still be more elusive. I was able to discover that “Mary Elizabeth Betty (Marshall) (Bodine) Wolf was born in Los Angeles on May 5, 1926, and that Betty passed away in Los Angeles County, California on February 28, 2007. [9] (However, as of yet I am unable to locate her final resting place.) I did learn that Betty’s father, Joseph Marshall, died young, and that Betty’s mother, a woman called Mitzi Madzka, and was an Austrian immigrant from Vienna lived to be nearly 100. Betty did remarry at Reno, in July of 1971, a man named Dale Wolf. (From Dave to Dale?) I get the sense that there was some alienation between Ricky and his mother, as some family trees only acknowledge “Ricky” as Betty’s son, while others imply the private faces of Betty’s other children still living. The fate or destiny of Betty’s baby boy she had after Dave Bodine is still unknown.

I’m taking a chance, and this weekend I am reaching out to Ricky. In this day and age of Google locating his likely address in Arizona was not all that difficult, so I have dropped him a line the old fashioned snail mail way. We’ll see if he replies, and I will keep you informed should you care to learn his fate. It’s always interesting to me to study the lives of those that we have encountered and then parted ways with for whatever reason. I liked the Bodines, and well, I hope that wherever Betty and Dave are that they are finally happy, and maybe even a little bit at peace.

[1] “Around the house,” a Google album photo collection by Wendi Record, as viewed February 2020

[2] A misquoted line from  Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken”

[3] Alta Violet (Sage)(Lee) Dixon – (1909-2004)

[4] The Walking Dead, a television program 2010 -  and as taken from a graphic novel  co-created by Robert Kirkman

[5] Canasta: A card game of Uruguayan origins (1939) that became increasingly popular in the United States during the 1950’s with popularity waning into the later 1960’s; a member of the Rummy family, it is commonly played with a French deck, and commonly played by four in two partnerships, although variations for different numbers of players exists.

[6] California, Divorce Index, 1966-1984, Ancestry.com, for “Othel David Bodine” and “Mary Elizabeth “Betty” (Marshall) Bodine, at Orange County, California, December 1967

[7] California Birth Index, 1905-1995 Ancestry.com, for birth of “Rick Marshall Bodine,” at Los Angeles, 6 June 1952

[8] California Divorce Index, 1966-1984 Ancestry.com, for divorce of “Othel David Bodine” and “Mary Elizabeth Marshall,” Orange County, California, December 1967

[9] U.S., Social Security Death Index, 1935-2014 Ancestry.com, for the death of “Mary E. Wolf,” born 5 May 1926, died 28 Feb 2007; U.S., Social Security Applications and Claims Index, 1936-2007, Ancestry.com, for “Mary Elizabeth Wolf,” aka “Mary E. Bodine,” date of birth 5 May 1926, date of death 28 Feb 2007; California Birth Index, 1905-1995, Ancestry.com, for “Mary Elizabeth Marshall,” born Los Angeles County, 5 May 1926;  Nevada Marriage Index, 1956-2005, Ancestry.com, for marriage of “Mary Elizabeth Bodine” to “Dale Virgil Wolf,” at Reno, Nevada, 3 July 1971.

[my-love-peterp]

A Part of Your World pt. 2

Word Count: 1505

Fic Summary: So this is a work based lightly on the movie First Daughter. It’s a Reader Insert sorta. If you’ve never seen that movie, you should absolutely watch it if you have the opportunity. Peter Parker/Stark!Daughter fic. Rating may change depending on if I’m feeling the smut route (I probably will). Expect updates once a week (as soon as I figure out what day would be best to do it on. They may be more frequent here at the beginning just because the story is really flowing right now. Thanks!

Chapter Summary: I don’t really have one because I’m impatient and I’m taking my partner to see Hozier in a few hours. But Peter does exist in this chapter. Surprise.

Warnings: none! maybe language, I’m honestly not sure.

If you would like to be tagged, reblog/comment/message me and I’ll start tagging you in future chapters. 

“I’m too sober for this,” (Y/N) said, plopping down on to the horrifically springy, undressed mattress that was on top of a wooden bed frame. Her bed frame now, she firmly reminded herself.

“You don’t even drink,” Morgan responded, a lot less winded and emotionally drained than (Y/N). She’d always admired her sister’s ability to remain unruffled in the midst of tense or new situations. And yeah, maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to ditch the elevator and take the stairs to her new home for the year, all the way up on the sixteenth floor. But she couldn’t stand the feeling of brushing shoulders with what felt like hundreds of people who stared and lifted their phones to take pictures, or to see one girl turn to someone else and hit them to get their attention and not so subtly pointing to her and Morgan when they had it.

“Yeah, well, maybe I should start,” (Y/N) answered noncommittally. She flopped down on to my future roommate’s bed right across the room. She hadn’t taken the time to read their profile as she’d been emailed it. She wanted to go into this experience blind. And yeah, with her father’s resources and connections, she could’ve known every single aspect of the mystery roommate’s life if she’d wanted to. But (Y/N) wanted to go in blind. Be a normal kid for once. Especially with Mom doing what she was right now.

Suddenly, the door burst open behind them. Lugging in a mini fridge and two bags, Happy grunted and panted as he nudged his way inside. Morgan sat as if to help him but as soon as he saw her move to sit up he barked, “No, no stay where you’re at! I’ve got this, it’s nothing.” His red face indicated he was definitely lying. But nothing came between Happy and his pride.

“It’s not every day,” he said, pausing to pant after setting the fridge down on the countertops, “that your goddaughter goes off to college.”

“Yeah you’re right Hap, it’s not every day that a girl is escorted to her dorm room by her family’s Forehead of Security. Or has to avoid reporters pressing their faces against their lobby windows. Or has the seclude herself until her mother and father and their Secret Service protection detail can join them, since no one was currently on ‘daughters watch’,” (Y/N) made air quotes with her fingers, grumbling about the debacle that had occurred earlier today.

“I don’t trust him,” Morgan remarked from her couch as (y/n) scrambled to get everything she could possibly fathom needing in her dorm room packed into her father’s latest invention. It was basically a play on Dum-E, but with storage that the robot packed her things into itself, to maximize storage efficiency.

“Well, of course, you don’t trust him,” (Y/N) replied, “He’s on the Bachelor. That’s like, a parade of red flags right there.

“(Y/N),” Morgan scoffed, scandalized, her head popping up and over the back of the blue cushions, “it’s the Bachelorette, not the Bachelor, we’ve been over this. Plus, we personally know someone on this season, you should be watching!”

“I’ve seen Pietro make enough stupid decisions in my life to know that this doesn’t rank in the top three, and as such, I will not be acknowledging it.”

The sun had just barely begun to trickle in through the windows, and the watch she’d made herself showed that it was just past 6:15. Why she had procrastinated packing last minute, she couldn’t tell you. Maybe it just felt like the end of something fragile. Or whatever. Her watch caught the first true rays of sunlight and bounced refracted light straight into her eyes. (Y/N) winced but paused to admire her creation. The main metal straddled a fine line between her father’s favored cherry red, and the more toned down rose gold that was all the rage just a few year’s ago. Accented along the outside of the watch frame were little webbings of ice blue, too intentional to be called marbling but too non-descript to look like a spider’s web. Every other accent on the watch was a pearly white.

All of a sudden, Morgan’s phone started blaring the most awful noises she’d ever heard, causing (Y/N) to jump what felt like five feet in the air. She could hear Happy’s exasperated voice shouting into his receiver even halfway across the room. It seemed that she and Morgan were late for fittings and makeup for an impromptu morning press junket.

Those were happening more and more frequently these days, ever since her mother resigned as CEO of her father’s company, relegating it back to him, which he handled begrudgingly, and running for the US Senate. That was ten years ago. Now, her mother, Pepper, was the current frontrunner for the presidency. As if her life wasn’t high-profile enough as one of two daughter’s of the most powerful couple in the world probably.

It seemed that, due to Pepper’s skillful negotiation tactics, dozens of political prisoners were being released back to the United States today. And that meant the mother of all press conferences. On the day that she was moving into her new home for the next several months.

(Y/N) and Morgan were then harried about to get ready by FRIDAY, and AI program her father had invented long ago, in the form of the original JARVIS. Unfortunately, his coding and learned personality were lost when an earthquake struck southern California and shook the Malibu mansion off its cliffside seat and into the murky depths below. Okay, that may be a bit dramatic, but sue her, something needed to spice up the story of life in perpetually sunny SoCal.

Within thirty minutes she and her sister were presentable and ready to head down to where Happy was waiting in the car.

And to make a long story short, (Y/N) had managed to not only nearly knock down the lectern on the stage where her mother would be speaking shortly, but in the fall, she twisted her ankle all the way around. Nothing was broken, campaign medical staff had assured her, but any dummy would know that that footage was right then being broadcast on every phone, StarkTech or otherwise, throughout the nation. So in reality, her ego was bruised and battered more than her ankle was.

What got to her the most, though, was her constant characterization as cold and unfriendly. Of course, the reputation was probably well deserved, as she’d spat in a reporter’s face when she was just fifteen years old. But over time, she’d learned how to stop engaging, how to tamp down her temper. She’d learned that, when her mother was that age, she was quite the spitfire herself. Aunt Peggy would always tattle on her.

So it stung to know that she’d made progress in order to become a more ‘press-perfect’ daughter, just for them to turn around and make jokes about the stick up her ass or that she’d been replaced by an android of her father’s own creation.

And now here they were, hours later, as her mom had to make one last campaign stop before taking the presidential shoes off and trading them for her mom sneakers.

“...I’ll just uh… go get more of the bags from the car then,” Happy stammered, quickly excusing himself from the room.

Silence, comfortable and relaxing silence, filled the space between (Y/N) and Morgan. Of course, you could still hear the bustle of the New York streets below, but her floor seemed to be deserted.

(Y/N)’s eyelids began to droop, growing heavy after such an early morning, but she was abruptly shaken awake by a crashing sound outside her door, that only got louder as the door swung open.

In tumbled a brunette boy with wavy-ish hair and a toothy grin-turned-grimace. His hands were full of what looked like salvaged electronic parts. “Sorry about the noise,” he gasped out between breaths, “I didn’t want to make more than one trip and it seems I overestimated my grip.

Behind him wheeled in a huge suitcase. A few steps after that and an older lady stepped inside. His mother, (Y/N) assumed. Standing up from her spot on her unmade bed, she approached the woman, asking if she needed a hand. She was swiftly turned down and told to relax but (Y/N) didn’t miss the flare of recognition in the woman’s eyes as she put two and two together.

(Y/N) quickly spun around as the boy dumped all of the metal pieces and wires on to his desk before turning to face her and sticking out his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Peter. Peter Parker. What’s your name?”

(Y/N) grinned back. She hadn’t had to introduce herself in a long time. But something nagged her from the back of her mind. Peter Parker sounded awfully familiar.

[hermionefae]

First Waltz as Man and Wife Sherlock x Fem!Reader (Victorian era)

Requested by @sovereignoblivious "May I please request a cute Victorian Sherlock x Reader where they have their first dance as husband and wife at their wedding?"

Mr Sherlock Holmes was not one for showing emotion, this stretched far beyond the socal normaties of a Of a standard Victorian Gentleman. But despite thus far you still had fallen for him.

He had saved you from a burning building as you had been caught up in one of Professor Moriarty's devious plans. He picked you up in his long arms and carried you out of the burning building just before it collapsed around you and you never let go.

Mr Holmes maintained that you were suffering some sort of delusion that was making you feel attracted to him, purely because he had rescued you but as you two became more acquaintanted he found himself actually enjoying your company. You were far smarter than the majority of your female counterparts and you weren't interested in the normal things such as darning or beauty regimes. You had a morbid fascination with death and crime, which was probably why you were mixed-up with Moriarty in the first place. This enabled you to be an adequate companion for Sherlock on his cases when Doctor Watson could not come.

Your first kiss and subsequent marriage proposal had been on a case in India of all places. Sherlock had been so elated that you had helped solve the mystery that he had practically fallen on one knee and proposed to you on the spot. You naturally said yes and you shared a short but passionate kiss. It would've been longer but a tiger had just been set upon you two and you had to run for your lives.

You were married a few months later in a small church not far from Baker Street. Doctor Watson was obviously made best man and you were married at 1pm on a Wednesday afternoon in Spring.

You hadn't wanted to spend a huge amount of money on the wedding so your dress was a white long dress with 3 1/4 length sleaves, a corseted back and buttons down the front.

Sherlock's brother Mycroft had been kind enough to lend his home on the outskirts of London for the reception.

You dined well with your closest friends and Sherlock's family and then Sherlock stood up and held out his hand "Mrs Holmes, would you do me the honour of joing me for our first dance as Man and Wife?"

"It would be a pleasure Mr Holmes" you said, taking his hand and following him to the dance floor.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I crave your indulgence for a moment or two. Some of you may or may not know, I have a secret passion for dancing and so my new wife has agreed to be my partner, not only in life but also for this Waltz. The perfect Waltz should be so steady that a candle would not deminish whilst the couple are moving around the floor. Mrs Holmes shall we?"

You collected a candle stick and joined your new husband on the floor. You two had practiced the Waltz in the front room of Baker Street, late at night because dancing was one of your weaknesses. Luckily all of the rehearsals had paid off and the candle did not deminish.

Once the music had finished and the audience had applauded, Sherlock drew you close and tilted your head up and whispered "I love you y/n"