#cory jameson

[saveraedae]

WHO WANTED RANDOM WIKI IMAGES!? Oh no one? Damn. You’re getting them anyway, been having the random whim to remake a bunch lately, so here’s a bunch. There’s more where that came from to be posted in the future, I recommend keeping an eye on the wiki.

row 1: Owen Peterson and Sandra Mandel

row 2: James Talevara and Aaron Fitzgerald

row 3: Ava Glenn and Sophie Smith

row 4: Miles Dean and Benjamin Washington (Adult edition™)

row 5: Cory Jameson and May Turner

[wwprice1]

LOVED this week’s Ultimate Spider-Man #1. An exceptional start to the series!

[daresplaining]

Matt: “The press doesn’t care about me or Daredevil or any of it. They just want a show. And what a show I put on for them tonight. I ate at a very expensive uptown restaurant...all by myself. Then I resist the urge to go to Milla’s house and beg for her forgiveness and understanding. Then I resist the urge to go over there and yell at her how marriage is a sacred bond that I do not take lightly!! And that I shouldn’t be punished for mourning the death of past loved ones while at the same time trying to live my impossible double life in the present. I resist the overwhelming urge to run up to the Daily Bugle and scream in J. Jonah Jameson’s %^&*ing face that I am, in fact, Daredevil and I did declare myself the Kingpin of Hell’s Kitchen. Kingpin of crime? No. Just Kingpin!! I just wanted there to be no Kingpin so I made myself Kingpin. That’s it. It’s so simple. Why does no one understand this simple concept? And, you know what? I don’t care that no one understands. I got my results. I have what I want. And although it has totally destroyed whatever was left of a normal life for me...I do not care. Because, end of the day, someone’s life was saved because someone out there is scared of me. And they should be. Crime is down and life is better in this part of the city and if this is the price for that...fine. I can live with it. "But there is this overwhelming desire I'm filled with to punch someone in the face!!! Anyone will do at this point. But I know that isn't right. And it certainly isn't what my sensei taught me, but I can't help it. I want to punch someone really, really badly. In the face. Why? (Well, why this time?) Because the only thing on this planet Earth that I felt one hundred percent good about was the fact that I finally found a woman who would actually marry me and love me and stand by me through all of this. And now I know I haven't. What I found was a woman who does love me...but after actually spending a healthy amount of time with me has decided that she would rather pretend she never met me than actually be with me. And, end of the day, it's my fault." Daredevil vol. 2 #61 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, Matt Hollingsworth, and Cory Petit

In which Matt is...as they say...Going Through It.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Collective Intelligence Institute

History is written by the winners, which is why Luddite is a slur meaning “technophobe” and not a badge of honor meaning, “Person who goes beyond asking what technology does, to asking who it does it for and who it does it to.”

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/07/full-stack-luddites/#subsidiarity

Luddites weren’t anti-machine activists, they were pro-worker advocates, who believed that the spoils of automation shouldn’t automatically be allocated to the bosses who skimmed the profits from their labor and spent them on machines that put them out of a job. There is no empirical right answer about who should benefit from automation, only social contestation, which includes all the things that desperate people whose access to food, shelter and comfort are threatened might do, such as smashing looms and torching factories.

The question of who should benefit from automation is always urgent, and it’s also always up for grabs. Automation can deepen and reinforce unfair arrangements, or it can upend them. No one came off a mountain with two stone tablets reading “Thy machines shall condemn labor to the scrapheap of the history while capital amasses more wealth and power.” We get to choose.

Capital’s greatest weapon in this battle is inevitabilism, sometimes called “capitalist realism,” summed up with Frederic Jameson’s famous quote “It’s easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism” (often misattributed to Žižek). A simpler formulation can be found in the doctrine of Margaret Thatcher: “There Is No Alternative,” or even Dante’s “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.”

Hope — alternatives — lies in reviving our structural imagination, thinking through other ways of managing our collective future. Last May, Wired published a brilliant article that did just that, by Divya Siddarth, Danielle Allen and E. Glen Weyl:

https://www.wired.com/story/web3-blockchain-decentralization-governance/

That article, “The Web3 Decentralization Debate Is Focused on the Wrong Question,” set forth a taxonomy of decentralization, exploring ways that power could be distributed, checked, and shared. It went beyond blockchains and hyperspeculative, Ponzi-prone “mechanism design,” prompting me to subtitle my analysis “Not all who decentralize are bros”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/12/crypto-means-cryptography/#p2p-rides-again

That article was just one installment in a long, ongoing project by the authors. Now, Siddarth has teamed up with Saffron Huang to launch the Collective Intelligence project, “an incubator for new governance models for transformative technology.”

https://cip.org/whitepaper

The Collective Intelligence Project’s research focus is “collective intelligence capabilities: decision-making technologies, processes, and institutions that expand a group’s capacity to construct and cooperate towards shared goals.” That is, asking more than how automation works, but who it should work for.

Collective Intelligence institutions include “markets…nation-state democracy…global governance institutions and transnational corporations, standards-setting organizations and judicial courts, the decision structures of universities, startups, and nonprofits.” All of these institutions let two or more people collaborate, which is to say, it lets us do superhuman things — things that transcend the limitations of the lone individual.

Our institutions are failing us. Confidence in democracy is in decline, and democratic states have failed to coordinate to solve urgent crises, like the climate emergency. Markets are also failing us, “flatten[ing] complex values in favor of over-optimizing for cost, profit, or share price.”

Neither traditional voting systems nor speculative markets are up to the task of steering our emerging, transformative technologies — neither machine learning, nor bioengineering, nor labor automation. Hence the mission of CIP: “Humans created our current CI systems to help achieve collective goals. We can remake them.”

The plan to do this is in two phases:

Value elicitation: “ways to develop scalable processes for surfacing and combining group beliefs, goals, values, and preferences.” Think of tools like Pol.is, which Taiwan uses to identify ideas that have the broadest consensus, not just the most active engagement.

Remake technology institutions: “technology development beyond the existing options of non-profit, VC-funded startup, or academic project.” Practically, that’s developing tools and models for “decentralized governance and metagovernance, internet standards-setting,” and consortia.

The founders pose this as a solution to “The Transformative Technology Trilemma” — that is, the supposed need to trade off between participation, progress and safety.

This trilemma usually yields one of three unsatisfactory outcomes:

Capitalist Acceleration: “Sacrificing safety for progress while maintaining basic participation.” Think of private-sector geoengineering, CRISPR experimentation, or deployment of machine learning tools. AKA “bro shit.”

Authoritarian Technocracy: “Sacrificing participation for progress while maintaining basic safety.” Think of the vulnerable world hypothesis weirdos who advocate for universal, total surveillance to prevent “runaway AI,” or, of course, the Chinese technocratic system.

Shared Stagnation: “Sacrificing progress for participation while maintaining basic safety.” A drive for local control above transnational coordination, unwarranted skepticism of useful technologies (AKA “What the Luddites are unfairly accused of”).

The Institute’s goal is to chart a fourth path, which seeks out the best parts of all three outcomes, while leaving behind their flaws. This includes deliberative democracy tools like sortition and assemblies, backed by transparent machine learning tools that help surface broadly held views from within a community, not just the views held by the loudest participants.

This dovetails into creating new tech development institutions to replace the default, venture-backed startup for “societally-consequential, infrastructural projects,” including public benefit companies, focused research organizations, perpetual purpose trusts, co-ops, etc.

It’s a view I find compelling, personally, enough so that I have joined the organization as a volunteer advisor.

This vision resembles the watershed groups in Ruthanna Emrys’s spectacular “Half-Built Garden,” which was one of the most inspiring novels I read last year (a far better source of stfnal inspo than the technocratic fantasies of the “Golden Age”):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/26/aislands/#dead-ringers

And it revives the long-dormant, utterly necessary spirit of the Luddites, which you can learn a lot more about in Brian Merchant’s forthcoming, magesterial “Blood In the Machine: The Origins of the Rebellion Against Big Tech”:

https://www.littlebrown.com/titles/brian-merchant/blood-in-the-machine/9780316487740/

This week (Feb 8–17), I’ll be in Australia, touring my book Chokepoint Capitalism with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We’ll be in Brisbane tomorrow (Feb 8), and then we’re doing a remote event for NZ on Feb 9. Next are Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. I hope to see you!

[Image ID: An old Ace Double paperback. The cover illustration has been replaced with an 18th century illustration depicting a giant Ned Ludd leading an army of Luddites who have just torched a factory. The cover text reads: 'The Luddites. Smashing looms was their tactic, not their goal.']

[bumblebee-art-blog]

Pride Month is ending, so let’s draw some sapphics being cuties! <3

Cory Padilla- the one and only VioletSpider of Earth-12218! A fourteen year old, Puerto Rican, lesbian who’s just trying her best at the superhero thing

Rose Jameson- JJJ’s youngest child who, unlike her father, admires VioletSpider. Perhaps she feels more than admiration. She is also that one kid that has way too many extracurriculars. She’s editor in chief of the school newspaper, manages a blog as a hobby, Girl Scout member, and a red belt in taekwondo

[unlikelyfanhairdoalmond]

🌟 All Through The Night - FULL Short Film with Tim Daly 🌟

What a performance! 👏🏻

I can understand why Tim said it would be hard for Téa to see it (in reference to her dad going through something similar at the end of his life), because it is hard to see him like this.

It’s the night before his father, a retired choir conductor with Alzheimer’s (TIM DALY of "Madam Secretary" and "The Sopranos"), moves into a long-term clinic, and Neil Kelly (LUKE SLATTERY of "The Boys in the Boat") is determined to stir his dad’s memory while facing his own.

- - - - - - -

Produced, Written and Directed by GRAHAM MARVIN

Starring: TIM DALY, LUKE SLATTERY, HAYDEN BERCY and MYRNA CABELLO

Featuring: THE CHORAL SOCIETY OF GRACE CHURCH IN NEW YORK

- - - - - - -

Producers: LENNY MATIAS and KENNY SILBER

Director of Photography: ZACH STOLTZFUS

Casting: CONRAD WOOLFE

Editor (of project AND this trailer!): RONNIE RIOS

Colorist: SODALITE COLOR / TAM LE

Post Sound: SILVER SOUND / CORY CHOY

Original Music: FORREST WEIHE

Production Sound & Post Choir Mix: RYAN DEROSA

Production Designers: JUNE HUCKO and CHELSEA SMITH-DOUGHERTY

Choir Music Arrangement: JAMESON MARVIN

Choir Conductor: JOHN MACLAY

- - - - - - -

Executive Producers: MIKE KARP & RAMON TORRES, ANNETTE KIM, POLLY & JAMESON MARVIN, SARAH EVANGELINE NORMAN, BEN SMITH, FRANK SMITH, MAY SMITH, JEFF WANG

- - - - - - -

1st AD: AMBER LEASURE

Key PA: SAM REYNOLDS

Addtl PAs: MITCH DELTUVIA and JOHN PAPOVITCH

1st AC: DARLENA CHIEM

2nd AC: MAX BATCHELDER

Camera PA: ANDREW COHEN

Set Decorator: STEPHEN HASSETT

Key Grips: DAVID PERSAUD, CHRISTOPH RUSSI and MATT IACONO

Gaffer: AYA FAHAM

Electric: NOAH SOLOMON

Best Boy: DEVIN HOLLINGER and NICK ROONEY

Script Supervisors: DEVIN SMITH and DANIELA PAIEWONSKY

Makeup: FLORIANE DAVID

Hair: STESHA ROSS

Covid-19 Testing: PROJECT INDIE HOPE

Co-EP: GERRY PASS

Associate Producers: CHARLIE PHOENIX and CORY CHOY

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Dennis King will be back for a second term as premier of Prince Edward Island, with CBC News projecting his Progressive Conservatives will claim victory in the 2023 provincial election.

Polls closed at 7 p.m. Monday, and as of 7:45 p.m. PC candidates had been projected to win in eight districts and were leading in another 12 for a total of 20. 

King and members of his cabinet were the first to pick up their districts, with PC Matthew MacKay running away in District 20: Kensington-Malpeque. King was projected to win in District 15: Brackley-Hunter River.

Fellow cabinet ministers Natalie Jameson, Steven Myers and Cory Deagle were also projected to be re-elected.

When the P.E.I. legislature was dissolved in early March, the Progressive Conservatives had 15 seats; the Greens had eight seats, forming the Official Opposition; the Liberals had four seats; and the NDP and Island Party had none. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[superpoweredfancast]

Ultimate Spider-Man #10 Review

Ultimate Spider-Man #10 Marvel Comics Written by Jonathan Hickman Art by David Messina Colors by Matthew Wilson Letters by Cory Petit The Rundown: Jonah and Ben continue their investigation into Fisk and end up poking a bear close to home. Ben Parker and J. Jonah Jameson are determined to get to the truth no matter where it lies and their first stop is a tense meeting with Fisk’s attorney…

[graphicpolicy]

Ultimate Spider-Man #10 makes us want a comic focused just on Ben Parker and J. Jonah Jameson

Ultimate Spider-Man #10 makes us want a comic focused just on Ben Parker and J. Jonah Jameson #comics #comicbooks

Fan-favorite duo Ben Parker and J. Jonah Jameson take center stage in this investigative mystery issue! But in this world of shadows and secrets, every unturned rock leads to danger… And they’ll soon have to decide which is the greater challenge – uncovering secrets or keeping them! Story: Jonathan HickmanArt: David MessinaColor: Matthew WilsonLetterer: Cory Petit Get your copy now! To find a…

[f4iry-bell]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 𝟏

pairing: popula!jameson hawthorne x nerd/goodgirl!reader

summary: who would have guessed taking an unwanted picture of her could lead to that tense moment? more than that, who would have thought it would get his attention to make a deal? and guys like him drain a person inside out when are interested in you.

warning: jamie being a slight jerk, very little. little over the top reader(?)

series taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @lyra-kane @bewitchingkisses @zenikswaffleshop @off-to-the-r4ces @jamcarven (lmk if you want to be added!)

a/n: IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS WHOLE THING, YAY. a lot of jerk jamie in this fuc guys. sorry;(

word count: 1.5k

masterlist | series master list

“Did you just take a picture of me?” The tone and how sharp it was so surprising to the two boys to her side, one with the camera, and one with a stupid smile.

“Maybe.” The boy who was holding the camera didn't take her frowned brows, and dagger throwing eyes at him seriously. No one really takes her seriously, most of the time she is just invisible but definitely not today.

“Delete it.” She demanded, taking a step closer.

“Aw, don't want others to see your pretty face?” The boy holding the camera teased her, and then turned to his green eyes friend with a stupid smirk.

“I said, delete it.” she demanded again, this time more serious and firm than before.

“Or what?”

“I'll sue you. I'll take you to court, but before that I would like to formally inform the student body for violating my privacy, and I'm pretty sure you'd be dealt with by the faculty.” She didn't blink once, she adjusted her glasses after ending her threat.

“Woah, now let's not go there, princess” the green-eyed boy took a step forward with his hands in front in defense. “We don't want trouble.”

“She's bluffing.” The idiot with the camera said.

“She's not.” The other guy said without taking his gaze away from her face. And he is right. She's not bluffing.

The idiot was looking at her face, scanning to see what the other guy was seeing. “Alright, I'll delete it. I was just taking random pictures of the campus anyway.”

She was waiting for him to do it, but he didn't do it, yet. “Do it, right now.”

“I'll delete it later.” He said.

“Delete it now, Cory.” The green-eyed spoke, she almost thought he was a decent guy. Almost, until he spoke again. “We don't want our front row princess to tell on us to her teacher, now do we?” His lips curved up to a stupid, irritating smirk.

Her face could have sworn it was hot as hell from all the anger if it was possible. Cory finally deleted it, and showed her. “There, happy now?”

She didn't reply, just turned and walked away from them. She could feel as though her skin was being burnt because she knew that a pair of beautiful green eyes was staring at her as she walked away.

Two weeks have passed since this incident. Jameson has forgotten about it or so he thought, he did see her in class and think about how different she was that day from how she acts in class, she almost speaks to no one other than the professor to ask for doubts or questions. He wondered if she even has friends, with her introverted personality, and quick to try and sue anyone who would want to be friends with her? Or the real question is, does she want to be friends with anyone at all?

Yeah, she probably hates everyone. But why is it taking psychology? Maybe that's not her major, he wondered what her major would be. It's definitely not psychology, because he can't imagine her as a psychologist. Maybe she majors in business, but then again, why would she take psych?

Why are his thoughts filled with her and her life? She is no one. She is just some girl passing by, a girl who happened to be more than just what she shows. He knows that, Jameson knows how to read people. Even before his psychology classes, he was not as good as his brother but he is good, and he can read her, just a little more time with her, and he'll have a master degree on her.

The next couple days Jameson skipped psychology classes because he couldn't help but stare and observe her, it was getting ridiculous to the point that even Dean who sleeps in class noticed it. For two days Jameson spent psychology class hours on the rooftop, he has done this on Heights Country High, why not in Yale too? But today was different, the door’s latch was already open, and the door was about 4 inches open.

He pushes past the door and saw someone standing near the edge, at first he thought this was a suicide attempt, but the person was calm, quiet, looking everywhere with a notepad on one hand and a pen on the other. The person was a girl who wore her hair up in a ponytail, her skirt was moving in the direction of the wind, he knew who it was. He could never forget her back profile.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't my favourite front row princess.” He regretted speaking out of the blue because it scared her to the point she jerked up, she could have fallen.

“Fuck!” She yelped.

“You know how to curse?” He teased her.

“Yes, asshole. I’m not 2.” She rolled her eyes when she turned to see who it was.

He smiled. “Never thought I'd see the day where you'd skip classes. Or are you stalking me?”

“Last I checked, I was here first. So, are you stalking me?” she asked.

“I've been here for a couple days, princess. What are you doing here?” He answered and asked the question out of curiosity.

“What are you doing here?”

“You first.”

“No.”

“I'll figure it out on my own.” He said and started to observe, she was writing something down before he interrupted her. He can't figure it out, it's too vague, maybe if she gave her notepad he could get something.

She was quicker than him, she somehow figured that he was about to snatch her notepad from her, and was on her guard.

“Come on. How about we make a deal, yeah? You tell me why you are skipping class and hanging out with yourself on the rooftop, and I'll owe you one.” He tried.

“How do I know that you'd actually keep your word?” She raised an eyebrow, rolling her eyes.

“A Hawthorne never not keep his word.” He said it out proudly. Something to be proud of from that name.

“Right, you're a Hawthorne.” She added. “Why are you so determined to know why I'm here? You get nothing out of it, and yet you're saying you'll owe me one.” She was questioning whether or not to agree to this deal. Having Jameson Hawthorne owe you one is a vid deal.

“I'm a man of mysteries. I also tend to like mysteries. And you, princess? One hell of a mystery. I figured that much two weeks ago when you threatened to sue my friend.” He smiled, taking a step closer. “So? What do you say? Deal?” He asked.

She sighed. “For my journalism class, I have to write about something new…something that is ‘not in my bubble’ as my professor worded it, hence the rooftop.”

Jameson’s face was pulled together in confusion. “Still a bit vague. Are you going to try to fly?”

She rolled her eyes which made him smile. “No. Just looking at people from a different perspective. I don't think I can go out of my bubble but I can always observe people from different angles and be them for a while to write a different story. Sounds a bit stupid but it'll work. And I'll get an A.”

Jameson noticed how her eyes sparkled when she said ‘I'll get an A.” It made him smile even wider.

“That's still not doing what your professor asked.” He pointed it out.

“But it's not the same repetitive story as before. It's new, so.” She shrugged.

Jameson was quiet for a while. “You said you can't go out of your bubble. Is it can't or won't?”

She just glared at him as if he lied about something. Ironically he only told the truth.

“See? You don't even try, and say you can't.”

“It's not easy for me, okay? If I do new things out of the blue, people will stare at me, look at me weirdly or bully me too. I can't just step out of my bubble like that. Even if people are nice, it's me. I'm awkward, and just stupid when it comes to socialising or anything that's not just academics, and some extracurriculars that I do.” She let out a quick sigh before shaking her head.

“So stupid. I don't even know why I'm telling you this.” She murmured.

Jameson was quiet for a few seconds. “I'll tell you what. I said I owe you one, right? How about this; I help you get out of your bubble. I'll help you socialise and all that stuff, stuff that are not you. I'll help you with them.”

“When you owe someone it's up to them to decide what it is.” She said with a little sass.

“I know, princess. But think about it. It's a good one. I'm just suggesting, it's up to you.” He took another step, now only two feet away from her with his hands extended in front. “Deal?”

She bit her lips out of frustration.

Jameson chuckled. “Take it or leave it. Don't need to kill yourself over it.” But he wanted her to take it, so bad.

She let go of her bottom lips, and relaxed her shoulders. She passed the pen to the other hand, holding both the notepad and pen in one, she spoke “deal.”

Her soft palm met his and shook gently. The touch shouldn't have sent goosebumps to Jameson but it did.

part 2 →

[weirdsciencecomics]

Ultimate Spider-Man #8 Comic Review

Written by: Jonathan Hickman Art by: Marco Checchetto Colors by: Matthew Wilson Letters by: VC’s Cory Petit Cover art by: Marco Checchetto, Matthew Wilson (cover A) Cover price: $4.99 Release date: August 21, 2024 Ultimate Spider-Man #8, by Marvel Comics on 8/21/24, finds the Parker family and J. Jonah Jameson enjoying a shared birthday party for the Parker children. Meanwhile, the Kingpin…

[mystoriesandcharacters]

Heterosexual Parents

Cheryl and Justin Tran

Lily and Kenzõ Sano

Susan and Seo-Yun Moon

Rachel and Michael Macedo

Linda and Trevor Rhee

Charlene and Charles Bubble

Melissa and Nathan Sparkler

Claudia and Spencer Jagels

Janet and Gregory Coffey

Judith and Darius Burdette

Bernice and James Berger

Martha and Jason Sweetz

Regina and Holden Van Dew

Polly and Lucian Marlowe

Leonora and Henry Ekins

Ava and Titus Teaford

Vera and Ivan Borisov

Dahlia and Dante Crook

Lorie and Kenneth Salts

Lucia and Giovanni Capello

Aikara and Ritsu Miyamoto

Barbara and Atticus Madler

Eden and Jarvis Linnet

Marjorie and Caleb Crisper

Sharon and Peter Janzer

Imogen and Gideon Blue

Victoria and Lucas Lacelle

Isadora and Porter Paratore

Charlotte and Edward Paratore

Sandra and Andre LaMane

Aylin and Nicholas Carbine

Ashley and Gordon Naron

Dina and Dewey Decko

Priscilla and Andrew Pearlette

Isobel & Preston Brightwind

Geraldine and Glen Gibbsite

LGBT Parents

Catalina and Natalia Gonzalez

Lisa and Gloria Gaffner

Roxanne and Erin Forestier

Uma and Penelope Taplin

Thora and Jane Pagels

Mitchell and Noel Prickler

Tessa and Iris Welling

Sylvia and Sheila Froning

Avery and Logan Zill

Cole and Stuart Glover

Eddie and Chris Lacer

Ethan and Gavin Balliet

Andrew and Ronald Kidwell

Zachary and Levi Heers

Liam and Asher Crowding

Travis & Cameron Nelligan

Susan & Monica Gooseberry

Gerald & Dylan Nutbrown

Marissa and Leona Turmeric

Divorced Parents

Zelda Zilles & Freddy Valois

Piper Citrus & Douglas Zahler

Felicity & Tommy Axtell

Geraldine & Timothy Turcaz

Brianna & Andrew Berrien

Seraphina & Dominic Marrone

Tamara & Percy Purnell

Marsha & Ross Ebonite

Diana & Alexander Zhōu

Audrey & Maxwell Juneberry

Carmelita & Diego Romero

Alexandra & Johnny Blackberry

Selena & Earl Glowez

Other Residents

Anastasia Novikov

Shannon Twist

Bertha & Ernest Crumble

Nancy Zheng

Lila Wonderstar

Edith Prism

Janice Timmons

Karen Gim

Tammy Cho

Stephanie Song

Renee LeGrand

Evelyn LaMane

Fiona Lavergne

Régine Cardoux

Tracy Timmons

Teens and Children

Clover Tran

Ozzy Tran

Enzo Moon

Prudence Sano

Tyler Zahler

Cory Sparkler

Alan Jagels

Darcy Valois

Sapphire Rhee

Sage Rhee

Mackenzie Macedo

Ruby Marlowe

Ginger Gonzalez

Genevieve Gonzalez

Chloe Bubble

Joey Bubble

Trish LaMane

Harley LaMane

Praline Coffey

Lena Welling

Elijah Welling

Zelda Froning

Kendra Burdette

Jessica Burdette

Zaria Burdette

Fiona Heers

Calliope Snowflake

Juniper Blue

Tiffany Van Dew

Topaz Van Dew

Bijou Carbine

Delilah Naron

Lemon Javins

Mona Kulkarni

Ophelia Davern

Elodie Ekins

Posie Lacelle

Jameson Paratore

Luna Chen

Phoebe Teaford

Esme Berger

Eloise Ollinger

Leona St. Cloud

Alexis Miyamoto

Roxy Capello

Lizzie Zant

Willow Forestier

Wendy Lacer

Desmond Decko

Esther Janzer

Luanne Junebug

Dion Marzel

Julianne Inglett

Heather Salts

Hudson Taplin

Blake Balliet

Mabel Pagels

Axel Crowder

Jasmine Crook

Marco Crisper

Samuel Linnet

Rebecca Madler

Lexi Daffron

Shawn Dasinger

Dariel Farson

Ryan Canright

Dimitri Borisov

Margaux Nelligan

Kate Kidwell

Dexter Axtell

Logan Turcaz

Jacques Berrien

Yvette Marrone

Tobias Purnell

Athena Pearlette

Vincent Ebonite

Nathan Gooseberry

Maxwell Nutbrown

Maxine Zhōu

Isla Brightwind

Juliet Turmeric

Grace Juneberry

Amaya Romero

A.I. Blackberry

Pepper Glowez

Ingrid Muse

Kylie Spize

Agatha Glover

Patty Perrin

Opal Sourtwist

Elio Zill

Mandy Tunesong

Betty Crinkle

Dorcas Cloudberry

Finn De Glam

Zoe Sweetz

Gina Gibbsite

Josephine Joynes

Lola Jentzen

Luca Barone

Kevin Prickler

Haylie Sweetbutton

Brielle Thames

Occupations

Cheryl Tran = Baker

Justin Tran = Comic Book Writer and Illustrator

Lily Tran = Lawyer

Kenzõ Sano = Business Owner and CEO

Polly Marlowe = Mayor

Lucian Marlowe = High School P.E Teacher

Rachel Macedo = Lawyer

Michael Macedo = Lawyer

Linda Rhee = Doctor

Trevor Rhee = Doctor

Zelda Zilles = Music Producer

Freddy Valois = Fashion Designer

Claudia Jagels = Judge

Spencer Jagels = TV Producer

Piper Citrus = Juice/Smoothie Bar Owner

Melissa Sparkler = Weather Host

Nathan Sparkler = Dentist

Charlene Bubble = Socialite

Charles Bubble = Real Estate Developer

Catalina Gonzalez = Chef/Restaurant Owner

Natalia Gonzalez = Chef

Nancy Zheng = 7th Grade Teacher

Shannon Twist = Hair Stylist

Bertha Crumble = Candy Store Owner

Ernest Crumble = Candy Store Owner

Edith Prism = Middle School Principal

Anastasia Borisov = Dance Teacher

Gloria Gaffner = Romance Self Help Book Writer

Lisa Gaffner = Scientist

Susan Moon = Nail Salon Owner

Seo-Jun Moon = DJ

Businesses

Crazy Treats

Moon Mani

House of Styles

Hair 2 Dye For

LaMane Books

Mademoiselle Renée’s Theater

Sweet Snowflakes

Sugar Hills

Hecho Con Amor

Fiery Rockets

The Sparkle

Pizza Pizzazz

Chamber of Imagination

Black Fruity

Funk N Fresh

The Lotus Dragon

Athena's Eye

Game Space

Rain of Petals

Purple Brew

Miss Anastasia S Dance Studio

@unvale-io

[wwprice1]

Ultimate Spider-Man #3 was so excellent this week! One of the most fun titles on the stands!

[devicus]

@tragicmaagic​ continued from here.

“i mean, i probably would’ve walked over to your house anyway because this party is... a snoozefest.” he shrugged, “your dad is... a dick.” he chuckled, “we should go somewhere other than here because i’m so bored.” he pressed his lips together as he looked at the blonde.

[prettylittleocs]

starter for @tragicmaagic​ // CORY & WEDNESDAY !!

plot idea: x

    cory’s parents were throwing one of their usual parties. it was like they didn’t even notice he was there. when he saw wednesday walk in, he immediately walked over to her, “thank god you’re here. i was about to go fucking crazy.” he said to the blonde.

[chanelslibrary]

Perceiving You - Prologue

Pairing: Chris Evans/Reader

Word Count: 4,576

Warning: Mention of weed, mention of alcohol [rating will go up with later chapters!]

Summary: You had always been overlooked and labeled an Outcast. That didn’t stop you from being hyperaware of the Popular Jock Chris Evans, and secretly harboring a crush on him while navigating high school with your best friends Pete and Crystal. Seventeen years later, you have to wonder is it coincidence that Pete, Crystal and Chris show up in your life again around the exact same time?

You’re older, wiser, and definitely more stubborn nowadays, so is it just another twist of fate when you suddenly start getting mysterious and threatening letters in the mail, or will your headstrong nature push away the Hollywood heartthrob that is back in your life and finally noticing you.

Authors Note: This is my first fanfic (sorry its so rough!), but I am looking for betas if anyone is interested. Please message me, and thanks for reading. Hitting like and reblog means a lot!  AO3  Chapter 1

Credits: dividers @firefly-graphics​

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・

Flashback

September 1998, Senior Year

“TOUCHDOWN FOR EVANS!!! THE WARRIORS WIN!”

The crowd in the stands next to you erupts, and the shadows from the bleachers fall over Crystal’s austere face. All you can see is the orange tip of what could be, but isn’t, a cigarette in her mouth. You can hardly hear Pete’s sigh and defeated words. 

“Guess that’s it folks.”

Crystal whines and and offers you a hit off the joint her and Pete have been passing back and forth the entire game. You decline with a shake of your head as the band and cheerleaders ramp up their end of the game celebration on the football field. Crystal stomps out the joint before a passersby could see your illicit activity. 

“Oh, come on guys! It’s not like you were enjoying the game anyway,” You say, trying to cheer them up. 

“Yeah, but I was just getting my high going!” Crystal fires back with glazed eyes that contradict her words.

“Hey, Schlozinger!”

Pete, you and Crystal, turn to see a tall boy with brown skin, white teeth, and a blue and red letterman jacket yelling from the main entrance into the stadium. Swarms of students are walking past him cheering and heading towards the parking lot, but he stands tall–like a pebble caught in a rushing stream. Pete nods to the boy as acknowledgement.

“You coming to Parker’s party?!”

“Eh…?” Pete looks at you, clueless. You had driven everyone to the game tonight. 

The boy continues… “Everyone’s celebrating man! Come to Parker’s crib!”

“Uh, can I bring friends?” Pete asks.

“Yeah, man!” The boy smiles then turns to his friends, two other boys who have joined him in the crowd wearing basketball jerseys and they walk off together.

Pete turns back to your and Crystal’s expectant gazes with a sheepish smile.

“So, want to go to Parkers?”

Crystal beats you to the punch.

“Who is Parker? And why did Cory Jameson invite you to a party?!”

Cory Jameson. That’s who Letterman Jacket was. You knew you recognized the starting basketball player, not from going to the games or anything, but from seeing him and all the other Jocks in the hallways. 

“Parker. Justin Parker?! The starting quarterback!! How do you not know who he is? Doesn’t matter. We’ve just been invited to a football party. It’s gonna be all that and a bag of chips!” Pete exclaimed, looking so excited.

“Correction: YOU were invited. WE weren’t. Also please, stop with the chips comment,” Crystal implored.

“Pete, how do you know Cory Jameson enough that he invited you to a party?” You asked. 

You were so confused. The reason your little group worked so well was because Pete, Crystal and you were similar, all loners and outcasts within your high school. This is what made you all bond. Pete making friends with Jocks like Cory Jameson and Justin Parker changed things. You didn’t want to begrudge him friendship—that is how you guys ended up forming your own group, by not having friends in the first place—but what would happen to your group if one of you became popular? This was a question you constantly thought about, not in any real capacity, more in an abstract way. Because one of the deepest secrets that you had not told anyone, not even your two best friends, was that you had the biggest crush on Certified Jock, star of the football team, and most popular guy in the school, Chris Evans. 

“Well, I’ve been helping to tutor some of the guys on the basketball team after school.” After seeing Crystal’s confused look he elaborated.“Mr. Moore asked me if I could help a few guys because they were struggling in their science classes, and I said yes. And it turns out they are pretty cool,” He finished with a shrug. “I know you guys would like them if you hung out with them. Can we go? Please!” He begged looking at Crystal.

“Why are you begging me?! She’s the one with the car,” Crystal pointed at you.

Pete turned his pleading eyes to you. You felt trapped, and pressured. 

Did you want to go to a loud, chaotic party with Jocks, Cheerleaders, and Popular People? No. Did you want to let down one of your best friends? No. Did you want a chance to see Chris Evans? No. (Yes.) Did you need alcohol to make it through the night? Yes.

You swallowed. “Okay, let’s go.”

“YES!” Pete fist pumped, and we moved toward the claustrophobic crowd of students headed towards the stadium gates. 

Justin Parker was rich. Like we-have-tons-of-ugly-but-expensive-art rich. By the time you pulled up to the modern mansion that bordered West Concord the party was in full swing. Pete led the way past the glass front door which was unlocked, and you were instantly assaulted with the opening beat of “Too Close” by Next. Pete started looking around, past the gyrating bodies in the foyer, for friendly faces. Crystal’s face screwed up in detest.

“I need alcohol! My high is wearing off!” She yelled in your ear over the beat. You nodded, and motioned to Pete that you were headed to the kitchen in search of drinks. He had just spotted what you assumed was a Jock based on the bright red Lincoln-Sudbury Regional High School jersey they were wearing, and took off towards him. Crystal and you navigated through clusters of classmates in the once roomy, now stuffy living room, towards where you thought the kitchen would be. You passed through an archway into a formal dining room, where the table was being used for beer pong, and dodged flying ping pong balls as you exited through a side entryway. 

“Finally!” Crystal yelled when you made it into the spacious kitchen. People were scattered throughout the kitchen, taking shots on the large island, digging through the pantry in the back, and in the center of the room, near the sink was Mr. Quarterback, Justin Parker, surrounded by Popular People holding court. He had a red solo cup in one hand and his arm around a Blonde Cheerleader. You had never bothered to learn most of the Popular People’s names, Chris excluded, and the girl hanging on Justin cackling at his jokes, overly make upped face screwed up in glee, just further proved why you never would. Crystal and you shared an annoyed look as you headed toward the counter where all the liquor bottles and cups were. While she mixed a concoction together you discreetly looked around the room for a familiar face. Possibly trying to see another Popular Person that happened to play on the football team. Crystal nudged your elbow. Your drink was ready.

“What is it?” You looked into the dark liquid in the cup.

“Just try it!” Crystal pushes the cup towards your mouth, while she takes a sip from her own cup. You take a sip. It’s strong! But the coke flavor helps to drown out the burning of the liquor. 

Did she give you rum? 

You take another swig and smile at Crystal. She smiles back.

“Let’s go find Pete!”

Fifteen minutes later, you guys find Pete in the fully furnished, walk out basement playing air hockey with some of the football team. He doesn’t see you past the large crowd surrounding the table. When you walk up and crane over heads to see the action, Pete assists Big Popular Jock–a burly guy with shaggy brown hair that keeps falling into his face, and a few pimples on his forehead—with a goal, and all the Jocks and Popular Girls surrounding the table explode into cheers, clapping Pete on the back. 

“Well, that isn’t a sight you see everyday!” Crystal murmurs with a shake of her head. She’s not used to seeing Pete surrounded by Popular People either. He’s the 6 '4, slightly pudgy guy with glasses who always tries to make himself smaller by curling his shoulders inward to avoid scaring people with his height and stature. Or the guy who lights up when he sits at the abandoned lunch table in the back of the cafeteria with you, talking your ears off about the latest computer software he downloaded. No one would let you guys sit at their tables the first week of classes freshman year, so somehow you all found yourselves at what you call “The Slab”. It’s just a lopsided lunch table around the corner from the rest of the cafeteria, but it gives you the illusion of privacy and superiority. 

“Let’s just go get another drink and wait until he’s finished. It looks like he’s having fun,” You say while tugging her arm. You pulled Crystal further into the basement seeing the familiar faces of classmates, but even with the effects of the rum starting to flow through your system the feeling of Other still followed you around. You were used to it at school, that was part of why Crystal, Pete and you became such fast friends that first day freshman year at that lunch table. You guys spotted that you were all Others in the Jungle of Jocks, Cheerleaders, Populars, Goths, Druggies, Band Geeks, Theater Kids, Anime Club, Nerds, Artsy Kids, and Floaters. But it was bizarre that the imprint of that identity was still on you in the world outside of Lincoln-Sudbury Regional High. You needed another drink.

The two of you weaved in between bodies towards a bar/kitchen where more alcohol was being passed around. Crystal pushed her way past a Goth couple standing in the entrance to the bar area playing a game of hockey of their own, but with tongues. You followed, while she headed straight for the refrigerator. 2Pac started singing about California, and you nodded your head to the beat as you turned to look at the rest of the room over the bar, and immediately noticed him. You stiffened. Chris was in the family room leaning against the back of a couch talking to a Jock. He looked cute? relaxed? happy? like he belonged. He had a lazy smile on his face while he listened to Jock gesture and ramble–probably about the final seconds of the game–and in his right hand was a Solo cup he periodically took sips out of. You would have been content to just stare at him like that if it wasn’t for the Brunette Cheerleader on his left who was clinging to him figuratively and literally. The front of his red LSR Football shirt was clutched in her bright pink manicured hand, and she kept trying, unsuccessfully, to get Chris’ attention by interrupting Jock’s story to bring the spotlight back on her. Your face must have shown your disgust because Crystal's face popped into your line of sight.

“What’s got you looking so sour?” She says as she hands you a Bud Light can. You take it and shake your head. She turns her head to look at where you were staring. “Oh! The Populars?! Forget about them. Come on, I thought I saw a game room back this way.” Crystal grabs your hand and heads toward the other entry of the kitchen. You follow, but not without a backwards glance. Jock is gone, and Brunette Cheerleader is standing in front of Chris trying to talk to him, but he’s ignoring her looking around. His blue eyes catch yours for one second, then Crystal grabs your arm and pulls you around a corner. 

Justin Parker’s game room was the size of your bedroom. After you both walked in and closed the door to a blaring Semi-Charmed Life, Crystal looked around in amazement. To be honest, you were impressed too. The Parker’s had two televisions with what looked like multiple gaming systems–those were not your forte– a modern IKEA desk and chair in one corner of the room, on top of the desk was a state-of-the-art blue IMac computer, a black leather couch and matching recliner sat in front of the T.V.s, and a gray bean bag chair was positioned in another corner of the room. Crystal darted towards the gaming systems calling out names which would probably mean more to Pete. “Nintendo 64! Sega Dreamcast! AND PLAYSTATION!”

You went and plopped down on the bean bag, replaying the last minute in your mind, while Crystal booted up a game. As you steadily sipped on your beer, you wondered what would have happened if Crystal hadn't dragged you away. Would you have turned around? Talked to him? Punched Brunette Cheerleader in her big nose? Who's to say. It wasn’t like you had a chance with Chris—him being Mr. Popular, Captain and Wide Receiver on the football team, boy-next-door handsome, charming, and the lead in almost all the school plays! The guy could be a Jock and crossover into Theater Kid and not get bullied. He defied high school laws. But that’s probably why all the girls wanted him. He was “sensitive” or ���passionate” or whatever bullshit he spewed to get girls to sleep with him. 

Had you mentioned you weren’t happy you had a crush on him?

Your stupid heart and brain just had to have a soft spot for the Chris Evans. The first incident that made you start to look at Chris differently happened in the fall of Sophomore year. By that point Pete, Crystal and you had already bonded over your uneven table and knew your place in the high school Jungle. A new kid had moved in next door to you named Collin, a Nerd if you ever saw one. He was short, red headed, with acne covering his whole face, and you felt for the guy. You tried being nice and made some small talk with him on the bus to school, but he was so shy it felt like pulling teeth. You vowed then to look out for him as much as you could, and spread the word to Crystal and Pete for them to do the same. Pete earnestly agreed, and Crystal rolled her heavily charcoaled eyes and begrudgingly accepted. They both knew there was only so much you guys, as Others, could do in the Jungle. One day in late October, it had just snowed—which wasn’t uncommon in Boston in fall—but this day it was warmer, slowly melting the last few patches of ice and snow that lingered on the high school parking lot. You were walking across campus leaving European History, your last class of the day, being swallowed up by the student body exiting Building B–the middle of the three buildings that make up LSR high—when you saw Collin alone 20 yards ahead in the parking lot, walking towards your bus stop at the end of the lot. Before you could try to catch up with him, a group of Jocks walked out of Building C, the southernmost building, heading towards the football field and they caught up with Collin first. The group of four guys yelling startled Collin and he must have slipped on a patch of ice that was along the edge of the lot, because next thing you know Collin was flat on the ground, and books were sprawled everywhere. Jock #1, who you found out later was another Wide Receiver named Anthony Fieldstone, led the group in laughing at Collin and saying what you could only assume were mean remarks (you were still too far away, fighting your way through students walking across campus, to hear). Jock #2 and Jock #3 laughed along and even pointed when Collin tried getting up and slipped again. But it was Jock #4 (later identified as Chris Evans) who had laughed at first, but after seeing Collin continue to struggle turned to his friends and said something. Anthony ignored Chris, and went over to Collin and pushed him down and kicked one of his textbooks into a puddle, turning to Jocks #2 and #3 for reactions. By this point you were within 10 feet of them, and heard Chris this time. 

“Guys, stop! Just leave him alone,” He muttered, while their laughs increased. Then you saw Chris turn his head, look at the ground with his brows furrowed, and a look of determination came onto his face. By now, you were within 5 feet of Collin, who had gathered all of his books and was sporting what looked like two bloody knees through his jeans, and fresh tear tracks down his pale face. Chris took a step towards his friends and made a comical, slip-on-a-banana-peel fall on his back. This immediately got the Jock’s attention. They started roaring with laughs.

“Evans, you’re just as clumsy as Red here!”

“Oh snap!”

“Yeah, yeah. You guys gonna help me up here?” Chris gave a sheepish smile and held out his hands. You had arrived at the scene and caught Collin’s eye. 

“Collin! Are you okay?” You asked, as you gave him a once over and looked around for any books he might have missed on the ground. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He sniffled. You put your arm around him while he clutched what seemed like at least five textbooks. 

Does he always walk around with his entire locker?! 

By the time you turned to walk away, Chris had been helped up by the Jocks, and now they were distracted with teasing him and each other, and were headed towards the football field. You turned Collin toward the direction of the bus stop, but not before taking another look at where Chris had fallen. There was no ice there, no snow, nothing. Being on the Varsity Football team as a Sophomore meant he definitely wasn’t clumsy enough to trip over his own feet, which meant he had faked his fall. 

Why? To take the spotlight off of Collin? To stop his asshole friends from bullying another kid? To be nice? Why would Popular Chris Evans need to be kind to Nerd Collin Peery? 

You didn’t find the answers to those questions that day, but for the rest of that school year you started observing Chris Evans. Discreetly of course, Crystal and Pete would have wondered why you suddenly had an obsession with a Popular Person. You noticed that although at first glance he seemed like a regular Jock, (he made the Varsity Football team his Sophomore year and would later become Captain his Junior and Senior years), he actually defied stereotypes when Sophomore year he tried out for the spring production of Run for Your Wife and got the lead part of John Smith over most of the upper class guys. The charming, British accent he put on for that role, and how he effortlessly hit his every cue and jokes endeared him to the audience—at least that's what you assumed happened on opening night since you didn’t actually go and see him—but you were certainly captivated listening, hidden in the upper rafters of Kirshner Auditorium Tuesdays and Thursdays that spring while you waited for your older brother to finish Track practice. 

 He also volunteered. And not just the forced community volunteering all the Jocks had to do for their team, but he did it in his spare time. You found out at the start of summer between Sophomore and Junior year. Crystal’s family dog, Lester, had just died and she was extremely devastated. Her mom told her getting a new one might help ease her pain, so you suggested she look at the Pound. That is how the two of you found yourselves leaving the Buddy Dog Humane Society on a Saturday, with a black Lab/Border Collie mix named Mabel, and as you were checking out, and getting final forms for Mabel, you noticed from the corner of your eye a teenage boy hauling a couple of trash bags down a long hallway toward an exit. Your parents had been hounding you to get a job the past few months, and the idea of extra work didn’t sound too terrible if you were able to hang out with cute dogs. So you asked gray haired Sharon, the nice lady helping you, if you could apply for a job there even if you hadn’t turned 16 yet. She told you the Shelter didn’t hire anyone under 21, and she must have seen the confusion on your face when you glanced at where the teenage boy had just exited. “Oh! That’s Chris. He volunteers here on the weekends. You’re more than welcome to volunteer! We could always use an extra hand around here. Let me get you a form,” She stated as she walked away. It didn’t click in your head that she meant Chris Evans until you and Crystal were walking down the sidewalk a couple minutes later—Crystal cooing at Mabel while she steered her toward the backseat of her black 1990 Acura Legend—when you saw him dumping more trash bags into a giant industrial trash bin on the side of the building. His dark blue t-shirt had ridden up, and you must have been staring too long because Crystal called your name through the window of her car to get in, and Chris looked up to lock eyes with you. He gave you a slight smile as he pulled down his Humane Society shirt over his khaki shorts. Your eyes widened as if you had been caught in a salacious act (was checking out a Jock salacious?), and your heart started racing, so you did the most logical thing and abruptly turned and dove into the front seat of Crystal’s car. On the drive back to Crystal’s place you made a mental note: Chris Evans volunteers to help puppies and has nice abs. 

There were also other small things you noted about him throughout your Sophomore and into your Junior and Senior years, such as how he would treat people in the classes you shared with him. Instead of ignoring or outright bullying kids who were overweight, gay, or nerdy he would talk to them when he was sitting next to them in class or if they were doing a project together, and after play practice he would socialize with the crew working behind the scenes, and the actors who were stand ins and extras.

So…what? He’s not an asshole, unlike the rest of his Jock friends. That doesn’t mean he’s an amazing guy—it just means he’s not an asshole—and now you have gone and developed a stupid crush on the guy! 

Why does your inner cynic sound eerily like Crystal? 

This is why you had to keep your crush a secret. Because Crystal, or even Pete, couldn’t fathom why you would like a Popular guy like Chris. Although maybe Pete wouldn’t be so judgmental based on how comfortable he looked with the Jocks earlier…

“What are you daydreaming about over there?” Crystal’s voice snaps you back to reality. 

“I wasn’t daydreaming!” You protest, as you notice you had emptied your beer can while you sat reminiscing. Your head feels light and fuzzy. “Sure, you weren’t. Come over here and play Smash Bros with me!” She insists while her fingers fly over the controller. 

“Nah, I’m good over here,” you stated and slumped further into the bean bag and closed your eyes, trying to get comfy. Your limbs start to feel loose the longer you sit, and apparently so does your mouth as you say, “What do you think of Chris Evans?”

Crystal doesn’t stop playing as she asks absentmindedly, “The star of the football team?” 

“Yeah,” You confirm. 

“He’s a meathead Jock. What of it?” She responds over the sound of her game.

“Doesn’t he have pretty blue eyes?” you asked dreamily, thinking about your eye lock with him minutes before. It took you a minute or two to realize that the sound of buttons clicking had stopped, and Crystal was being extremely quiet. You slowly blinked your eyes open to see her looking at you with an inscrutable look on her face, and you replayed your question in your mind. Crystal reacted before you had a chance to, with an eyebrow raise and the question, “You like Chris Evans?”

Yes. No. Kind of.

 “No!”

“But you like his eyes?”

“I mean…”

“So, you like him?” She was looking at you. Why did it feel like your answer was so pivotal?

“I just want to kiss him!” 

Where the hell did that come from?! We were talking about his eyes! 

You swore you were never drinking again after tonight. Crystal’s hazel eyes shuttered and her mouth pursed. 

“You want to kiss him?! Why? He’s just an idiot with good hair and an over inflated ego, who can catch a ball!” She blurted as she stood up from the floor and walked towards you. “You and him aren’t even on the same level! You are too good for him. You're smart, sweet and so unbelievably beautiful,” She pressed while looking in your eyes, and placed her hands on the bean bag close enough to your legs you could feel their heat, while she knelt on the floor. You gave her a drunk, bashful smile, and she returned a heartfelt one. 

“Crystal, thank you. But it's nothing, really! Plus it’s not like anything is going to happen anyway!” You chuckle, trying to convince her and yourself. She only gives a strained smile and a huff of a laugh as she moves to stand, then quickly changes the topic.

“It’s getting late. Let's go find Pete and get out of here!” You wobble as you try to maneuver out of the bean bag, but Crystal helps you find your feet. “I’m driving,” She adds as you leave the room. The two of you find Pete sitting on a couch in the upstairs family room chatting with a random collection of people. He doesn’t protest when Crystal tells him you guys are leaving and if he wants a ride he better say good-bye to his new friends. As the three of you head towards the front door Cory Jameson flags down Pete in the foyer, and breaks away from a group of Jocks in the corner.

“Hey Schlozinger, glad you stopped by man…”

You tune out their conversation because past Cory’s shoulder you see garish pink nails card through the back of short, brown hair that you would be able to recognize anywhere. The guy the brown hair belonged to, was pressing Brunette Cheerleader into the foyer wall and kissing her like his life depended on it, and solidifying his identity was his last name printed on the back of his shirt: Evans #13. You turn before you see them do anything more. Crystal had seen it too. Pete is done with his good-bye, and you can’t get out of that house fast enough. You can slowly feel your buzz wearing off as your mind spins. 

Crystal was right. You and Chris are not on the same level—he is so out of reach it’s laughable! So, maybe it was a good thing to see that little display. You and Chris Evans may go to the same school, but you are from two completely different worlds, and you needed to remember that and forget your stupid crush.

Pete follows your lead to the car, humming a 2Pac song, and Crystal is behind him smiling to herself, suddenly in a good mood.