#if you follow me on tumblr and you see me at walmart no you fucking didn't

[pisshandkerchief]

selfie because I washed my hair and I don't entirely hate the way it looks today

[lockandkeyhyena]

Sorry in advance for the long block of text here… Ive been seeing your ocs all over my feed and now im obsessed!!! Hope you do not mind answering my 5000 questions!! . ~ What was Hercules like as a wee lad?… For the sake of science if you stuck him in a room with 6 other children, what would he do..? would he have any notable / unusual habits compared to the others….? ~ If Hercules could wish for anything ever in the world what would he wish for. Also whats the most expensive thing hes ever bought! ~ Does he have any consistent quirks/stims…? Any silly gestures or quotes ? ~ What do you think an average day would be like for him ? What does he usually eat ? … Hows his morning / evening routines? Is it basic or extensive? Do you think hed be the type to take an hour long candle-lit shower and bathe himself in 50 creams lotions perfumes … or does he just dip and go ? ~ What is his house like…? Does he have his own or is it a family home / did he inherent it. Do you have any idea what it would look like ? What does his own personal room look like ? does he enjoy keeping/collecting anything in particular , or is he a minimalist

Okay now for the sake of science and connecting to Hercules psychologically I must know how he would react to the following scenarios: ~ If he one day woke up in a 4x4 cage in the middle of the Arizona desert what would be do? … ~ If he was walking around one day and suddenly the government said his city was gonna be nuked in 10 MINUTES what would he do? … ~ If he went to walmart and saw a child throwing a tantrum over toys what would he do? …. ~ If he was sitting around and a cute little kitty or puppy came up to him and wanted food and pets really badly what would be do? … ~ if he was going on about his day and, bare with me now, was firsthand witness to the oppa homeless style tumblr text post scenario, in real life, what would he do? That is all .... Thank you for your time homie of tumblr nation

please DO NOT apologise these sorts of questions and character analysis things are the stuff i LIVE for. strap in folks its gonna be a long one gonna answer these in bulletpoint form maybe a drawing or two scattered throughout!

~ Hercules was,, uhhh,,,,, Not that similar to other children and that fact only exacerbated as he got older. At his mentally healthiest he probably would’ve gotten a lot of ‘wow you’re so mature for your age!’s from adults. Growing up being completely desensitised to violence and in a relatively loving but still very fucked up environment will do that to you.

In regards to sticking him in a room with a bunch of other children and seeing what happens- he actually went to kindergarten! Titan was surprisingly firm that he have as regular of an education and upbringing possible for the kid of a mafia boss. She…. half-managed.

In regards to your thought experiment, here are some drawings from his time at kindergarten when he was at his least traumatised!

~ If he could wish for anything. This is an amazing question- what do you give the man who thinks he has everything he wants? He’d probably wish for whatever problem in the moment that was stumping him to be fixed (gang relations, nosy detectives, etc). Personally I think he should wish for some therapy but thats just me.

In regards to money, he’s really not that extravagant a spender (leave that to Titan) and his quarters are rather modest, the most he’s ever spent on things are probably gifts for his mother lol.

~ Oh BOY does he have stims- he taps. He’ll rhythmically tap his cane on the floor, tap his feet, twitch his tail and tap his nails against the nearest surface. He usually does this when he’s impatient or bored and it’s Not a good sound to hear when in a meeting with him. Though he tends to do this unconsciously and will usually stop if he notices and is in the company of other people (he thinks its unprofessional).

~ Like I said above, he’s really not super into decadence, he thinks extravagance and showy displays of wealth are tacky and unnecessary. His morning routine is probably something along the lines of wake up at 8am, take an ice cold shower, get dressed, eat breakfast (homecooked meals only. He’s a surprisingly good cook), check up on his finances, go do all the things he needs to do for the day, come back home and go to sleep. Very important note is that he wears those cartoon blue and white striped pyjamas.

~ DESPITE not being into overt displays of wealth, he does in fact live in a giant fuck off victorian mcmansion that he inherited from his mother. He doesn’t even use half of it and spends all his time in the house either sleeping or holed up in his study.

His study is a mess btw. Papers everywhere, needs to be swept. He’s very embarrassed about it but since he only ever uses it for all-nighters he never has any time to clean or organise it. His bedroom is immaculately tidy with only a few personal effects and the rest of the house aside from the essentials and a few guest rooms is covered in a fine layer of dust.

okay and here are his reactions to some hypothetical scenarios!

~ Cage in the desert. Okay so his thought process would probably go something like this;

Step one. Don’t panic. Evaluate the time of day through the position of the sun. Scan memories from last night to check for any gaps or places he could have been drugged.

Step two. Go down through his list of enemies and try and figure out who was most likely to have done this.

Step three. Do not panic. Felines can survive for three days without water. It likely hasn’t been more than half a day since he was kidnapped and Leroy will have been alerted to his disappearance and is likely looking for him now.

Step four. Do. Not. Panic. Stay put and attempt to look for weaknesses in the cage, if none can be found stay put and don’t waste your energy. Prepare to drink your own piss if things get bad. Also prepare snarky retort for when Leroy finds you.

~ Nuke scenario. Probably try very hard not to panic and follow his emergency evacuation plan of the city and try to get as far away as possible with his friends most valuable employees.

~ Child tantrum. Depending on the age of the child he might just straight up flash a gun at them to try and get them to shut up. He wasn’t this whiny as a kid- what’s their problem?

~ Very cute animal begging for attention. If alone, the most logical course of action is to acquiesce to its’ demands and give it a pat. It doesn’t take away attention from the task at hand will get it to stop making annoying noises. If he’s with other people he would ask them to give it attention to get it to stop bothering him.

~ Oppa homeless style. He would slowly back away, go home, get out a bottle of his strongest liquor and re-evaluate what he’s doing with his life. Too bad oppa homeless style doesn’t exist in the canon of sadboycats 😔

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE QUESTIONS and apologies for the absolute wall of text in response. These kitties have been eating up my brain.

[tyrantrhys]

I have to write about my dream somewhere and I think tumblr is the best of the worst places to share this.

A few nights ago, I had a vivid as fuck dream about myself as my persona stalking Dottore in a freakin' grocery store.

It was like a Walmart but...bigger?

Anyway, I just saw this man and his handsome arms reading over ingredients of every single box he set eyes on and I just couldn't stop staring.

Every isle he walked, I'd be just down the other end just following him like a total freak.

Walmart tends to sell stupid Valentine bears and plushie things with big hearts fluffy pick up lines, right? In my dream, I find one of a cute purple bat with a heart that said...

Wait for it...

"You make me thirsty" kkhhh--

And I bought it so I could give it to this handsome man.

God-

But I'm a nervous, awkward, pathetic worm bastard who can't say hello without my voice screeching in like a chalkboard.

So I just keep following this man until we reached the frozen food.

He bloody turned the fuck around because I was following him so close he felt me there.

And my dumb scared ass hides in a freezer so he wouldn't see me???

There was another person hiding in the freezer. They said they were stalking Sebastian from Black Butler. So I left and placed one of those handicap carts inftont of the freezer so they couldn't get out. Lololchristhelpme. I'msuretheydiedhahaohno.

He made it to check out and I just watched with creeper eyes how he did his check out. Once more, I followed him out of the shopping facility and into the parking lot.

I stood next to his stupid caddy and choked when he got in. He didn't see me once. Even when I was standing right in his car window.

And he drove the fuck away.

I smiled and cried in my dream holding this damn bat that I planned to give this total stranger. And then I woke up feeling empy.

Honestly...yeah. Realistic as fuck. Now my brain holds this dream like its a memory.

😂

[barbiegirldream]

I think there is an issue when it comes to Dream. A part of the fandom and the antis treat him like not a human. Some instances he’s treated like a corporate figure and others like a character in a show.

So people have trouble respecting one of Dream’s very few boundaries which is to not speculate at all about his sexuality. That is for him and him alone. Yet people act like he’s keeping something from us or lying. It’s no ones business but his own. But still I see people trying to guess. And I’m not talking DNF memes/fics/art he’s obviously fine with those. But I mean actually trying to understand his sexuality. Because if he was a fictional character we could do that. But he’s not and he’s asked us not to.

And on this topic Queerbaiting. Dream is a human being. He’s not a corporation. He’s not keeping us watching or subbing or buying merch with the hints and subtext he might date George or any of his friends. He’s just flirting with his friend. And that’s a normal thing to joke around with. Seriously if you’re still unclear go watch iNabber’s video on this.

And also also as Dream is not a corporate entity he is not performing Rainbow Capitalism. It’s his merch company that his friends are apart of and his money goes back into it. Dream asked his fanbase which is comprised of a large number of fanbase is LGBT+ and we wanted this merch. I ordered George’s pride sweatshirt and I’m happy to have it. I wanted to buy some of his merch anyways. This isn’t Target or Walmart selling us a rainbow t-shirt and the funds are going into anti-queer foundations. The money I paid will be contributed to the Trevor project. Like Dream, Sapnap, and George have been very transparent about their support. And it isn’t only in June.

And with the ADHD. Of course people are happy to say they support neurodivergents. But as soon as they are confronted with traits of ADHD that isn’t hyperfixations and humming they freak out. I’ve seen people call Dream rude for interrupting. And it is rude anyone with ADHD I think it’d be safe to say knows this. I sometimes feel however that if I don’t say my piece right fucking now I’ll literally die. It’s infuriating to have that little verbal filter. Yet my friends are patient with me. They know I’m trying. When I can’t stop pacing around my co-workers don’t make me stop because if I do it now I’ll have relaxed when I have a customer. Sometimes I lie in bed all day but I’ve only slept two hours in the past thirty hours so yeah I’m tired to the bone but I can’t just Ugh.

Anyways people hate hate hate it when Dream displays that he’s actually nuerodivergent and not in the way you see on your Tumblr positivity posts. Dream is a real human being he is not a character in a story who’s written to have ADHD. He can’t be bad rep. He can’t replicate bad stereotypes. He is an actual person living with ADHD. There is no curbing it because it would be more convient or it would fit your narratives better. The amount of times I see “he can’t blame everything on his ADHD” is so aggravating. He’s or anyone is not saying he has no responsibility. We are saying it’s expected and normal for Dream. Just I swear to god the way people think ADHD is can’t sit still disease really shows when they think he should just do something different in reaction to certain things.

Also when you invalidate Dream’s reaction to things you’re invalidating a shit ton of neurodivergent kids who do follow him. And I seem to recall everyone having lots to say in defense of these impressionable kids?

I think everyone who hates on him needs to take a couple hundred steps back and remember that this is a young man from Florida who likes to play Minecraft with his friends.

[a-fritterer]

One thing I love about tumblr is, here bloggers try their best to spread news about all the shits that keep happening around the globe (BLM, Yemen crisis, Phillippines Anti Terrorist Bill, Polish LGBT education ban just to name a few).

These encouraged me to draw attention to news that have been circulating on Instagram but surprisingly found no one to talk about it here in tumblr. The matter itself is alarming and I feel we should be more vocal about it. For your reference I attached some Instagram links which contain the details, go ahead and check them out.

To give you the picture of this whole shenanigans of global fashion brands that are threatened by this campaign and collective rage of angry hashtags, western brands such as Kohl's, ASOS have canceled product orders from their Asian (Bangladesh, India, Pakistan, Cambodia, Vietnam etc) suppliers. Not only that, these brands (Gap, Arcadia, Primark, Walmart, Fashion Nova, Kendall + Kylie etc, you can find the whole list in venetialamanna's instagram post) are refusing to pay for the in-process goods which is resulting in forced shut down of factories. A major portion of these unemployed workers are women often having no government protection, are even forced to work at rates below living standards (see giving fashion for more details). It's just an irony how Kylie Jenner posted her support for BLM on her social media but her companies are refusing to pay the workers in Bangladesh (where most of the workers are brown women). Not only that, she even went on her way to delete those comments where people used the #PayUp hastag and called her and her sister out. Like bitch, what matters most to you is being a billionaire where you don't give a fuck about the workers whom you're depriving of their rights?

FUCK YOU Kendall + Kylie!

FUCK YOU Cardie B, Diddy, celebrities, fast fashion brands who've bloods on your clothing lines.

Wanna hear a joke? A lot of these brands are even giving sales on their clothes where behind the scene they've millions of dollars yet to pay up and for them people are starving.

This is a small blog but I will request you to spread the words. Please try-

Use the hastag #PayUp on your socials, email the brands, flood them with hashtags

Sign the petition

if you're on instagram follow Who Made Your Cloth, ReMake, Clean Clothes Campaign to stay updated.

Support Remake, CleanClothesCampaign, Labor behind the labels, Asia Floor Wage Alliance, Garments Worker Center, One Billion Rising, Pull Up for Change.

Donate to garments workers and their unions

DO NOT SUPPORT the companies that are sucking the labor force and not treating the employees fairly.

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A post shared by @whomade.yourclothes on Jun 22, 2020 at 10:59am PDT

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A post shared by 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 (@remakeourworld) on Jun 23, 2020 at 9:25pm PDT

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A post shared by Chicks For Climate (@chicksforclimate) on May 4, 2020 at 11:24am PDT

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A post shared by Venetia La Manna (@venetialamanna) on Jun 23, 2020 at 11:55am PDT

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A post shared by Clean Clothes Campaign (@cleanclothescampaign) on Jun 21, 2020 at 3:49am PDT

Spread the words, reblog, attack them with #PayUp hashtags everywhere. Kylie, Kendall and these global brands cannot get away without paying up.

Thank you for your attention!

[1990stae]

Go Dance ~ myg

- series : opposites attract

- pairing : fboy!yoongix x carefree!reader

-genre : angst 

- word count : 1.5k (its short im sorry)

- warnings : drinking, dirty dancing ? cursing/swearing, its a pretty chill chapter. unedited

-a/n : IVE NEVER WRITTEN ON TUMBLR BEFORE SO IM LIKE LITERALLY TERRIFED SO UH, FEEDBACK IS AMAZING YES PLZ GIVE ME THAT

--

Friday Sep 28 , 4:30 PM

“ yn c’mon, we never do anything anymore, why not just, this one party..”

“Because the last time I let you boys drag me to a party, there was some guy groping me for half the night because you thought, and I quote , ‘you two would be cute.’” you looked at Jin lightly before sitting down next to Jimin at the table. 

The boys had taken you to your favorite coffee shop as a small bribe to get you to join them tonight at some frat party you were not interested in. You had already decided to go of course, but Taehyung had already gotten you snacks and makeup from Walmart and you wanted to see just how much more money you could get them to spend before they caught on.

“I’d need new clothes for the night, all of mine are old.” you mentioned, taking a small bite from your cakepop.

“I can buy you something, as long as it’s not too expensive.” Jin pipped up. 

“Are you sure Mom? I dont wanna spend your money.” 

“Yea for sure. It's just a small outfit. Isn't it?” Jimin let out a snicker as Jin finished his sentence.

-

Friday Sep 28 , 8:47 PM

“You’re not wearing the outfit I bought ?!” Jin exclaimed as you pilled into his car, sitting next to Tae in the backseat.

“ I said I was wearing jeans and a  hoodie. You thought I was joking?” you baited, seeing your friend realize what you had done.

“Hyung, how did you not see what she was doing? It was quite obvious.” Jimin told Jin as the car began moving.

Jin said nothing and turned on the radio as he drove towards the campus housing. You lived a few miles away in an apartment with Taehyung, so the drive was short and sweet. 

As you approached the house, you could feel the bass shaking lightly. Stepping out of the car made it more noticeable. The ground below you shook lightly as you walked alongside your friends up to the house. 

The lawn was littered with people dancing and smoking, all sorts of things you thought were better done where the police couldn't catch you. Once you and the boys reached the house you could feel your ear drums bursting at the noise. It wasn't a pleasant sensation nor was it a good song. You sighed and continued following Jin through the house. Stopping in the kitchen.

“Joon!” Jin yelled over the music, throwing his arms up.

“Jin! You guys made it.” He hugged Jin loosely before turning to his friends. Two of which you recognized.

“This is Hobi, Jungkook, and I'm sure you all know Yoongi.” Namjoon patted Yoongi's shoulder lightly before turning back to Jin. Yoongi took a small drink from his cup before looking around, avoiding you and your friends. 

“Right, this is Taehyung, Jimin, and Yn. Nice to meet you all.”

You heard a small scoff and looked over at Hoseok. He seemed uninterested by the situation, but to be fair, so were you.

“Joon, I'm gonna go dance. I’ll see you guys later?” He asked his friend. 

“Yea! Have fun Hyung!” Namjoon told Hobi before watching his friend disappear into the crowd of moving bodies.

You looked around before finding the solo cups and alcohol, moving over to make yourself a drink. Mixing the Coke and Rum in a cup evenly before hearing Tae speaking to Jungkook about some class they had together. 

“Coke and Rum? Seems boring.” a voice mentioned.

“Thanks, I try,” you replied sarcastically before looking up from where the voice had come from. He kept his drink close to his chin as he spoke.

“I didn’t know you and your friends knew what parties were.” he spoke, this time following it with a sip from the cup.

“ aren't you supposed to be sober? Healthy athlete or whatever.” You commented as you turned your body outwards, leaning onto the counter behind you and watching your friends converse about school and work.

“I don't drink” You looked up at him confused as he brought the cup down to your nose, “it’s Coke. I thought loners were always wasted. What's with the half assed drink?”

“I came here with three other people. What about that screams loner to you?” 

“Loner, stoner, same difference really.” he brought the drink back up to his mouth before taking a sip.

“Why are you here if you don't drink?” You knew he was popular, and that he often went to these types of parties. But you only went when forced, and your plan was always to get waisted. 

He looked upward towards the crowd of dancing bodies, “because girls do,” he said to you before sitting his drink down and moving into the room crowded by people.

Jin noticed the separation of you and Yoongi and moved over to where you were standing, taking your drink from your hand and taking a quick drink before handing it back.

“I'm guessing that didn't go too well.”

“Whatever could you mean? It went amazingly. We’re getting married this spring.” you said with a side eye, moving your attention down to your phone and swiping away the notifications.

“He’s really not that bad, yn. Give him a chance. He’s just a bit cocky ya know?” Jin tried, looking at you with small, pleading eyes.

“Why do you want me close to him? He’s pretentious and annoying.”

“Don't ask questions. Go dance,” Jin grabbed the drink from your hand before pushing you away from the counter. You sighed and moved to where you saw Taehyung and Jimin dancing. 

-

Friday Sep 28 , 11:24 PM

Once the three of you were together you felt ease rush over you, being with two of your best friends at a party was a feeling you enjoyed. A feeling you felt to cherish. Tae and Jimin were two of the most free spirited people you knew and being around them just seemed to make you feel free as well.

It wasn't long before you three were joined by Jin. Laughing at the people who seemed to lack rhythm and coordination. Jin mocking their dance moves to make you all smile. Jimin and Tae avoided the girls who came up to them. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him, surrounded by girls, as he practically just stood there, enjoying it. A small scoff escaped your mouth as you watched his eyes scan them as they moved around him. 

The situation was corny and gross enough with him finding you in the crowd, your head turned toward him. This small thing boosted his ego, an ego that was already inflated. A smirk planted on his face as he began moving against the bodies surrounding him, holding eye contact with you for the entirety of the song that happened to be playing.

Jimin seemed to notice the smug expression on Yoongi's face as he pulled you closer into him and danced with you pressed to him. 

One of your favorite things about the friends you kept, was that they never seemed to ask questions or doubt each other, just simply followed along. So when Taehyung's arms snaked around you as he stood in front of you, and Jin moved closer into you, you thanked whatever demon or devil sent them to you, because as you turn your attention away from Yoongi and towards your friends who were, in all honesty, helping you do a softcore porn at this point, you heard the girls around him make sad noises. 

By the time the song had ended, Yoongi had disappeared from the living room and you didn’t particularly care. 

“So, who were we seducing?” Tae asked you, shifting away from the close position. 

“Everyone, we were fucking hot.” Jin remarked.

“Yoongi was being a bitch, didn’t think our little yn should have to put up with a bitch boy playing games.” Jimin told the boys before smiling at you.

“I believe whatever we were doing seemed to work because.. Mr. Min is missing and you’re still here. “ Jin teased before walking back to the kitchen, followed by you and the other two.

“I’m bored, can we leave?” you said, pouring yourself a new drink and facing them. They looked as tired as you did. 

“Leaving so soon? No after party?” Yoongi's voice chimed from behind the counter.

“Hmm, yea i think so. There isn't anything interesting here, besides the boys,” you paused and brought your cup up to your mouth, “and there aren't many interesting boys either.” 

You walked out of the house, followed by your friends and all settling into Jin’s car. 

It was tradition, to say the least, to spend nights at your and Taes apartment after late nights, and although it was only a little after 12, no one felt like going home alone. 

You oddly enjoyed this party more than the others you had been to, which was saying a lot seeing as you never liked attending the ‘popular kids’ parties. Not until now.

[maybedefinitely404]

American Dream

Genre: angst with a happy ending/fluff

Pairing: romantic Dukexiety 

World: just-out-of-high-school AU

Content: homophobia, threatened abuse from parents (no actual violence), extreme cold, getting kicked out, minor religious talk, getting outed, AIDS and death mention, fluffy Dukexiety because my heart needs it.

Word count: 2.3k

Comments: She doesn’t have Tumblr, but I need to give a shout out to my kiddo for proof reading and beta-ing most of my fics. She pushes me to write more, and even if she won’t see this, I just need to say it.  

This fic is inspired by the song American Dream by MKTO.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up… 

The night coolness spread through Virgil like a sickness. It was unforgiving, toxic, seeped with the memories of the evening that curled through his stomach in dark tendrils. Below his bare feet, the sidewalk burned in the way that only ice does, small pebbles digging into his soles. He would do anything for socks. God, why hadn’t he grabbed socks? 

Probably for the same reason he hadn’t grabbed shoes. 

Please pick up, please pick up, c’mon, pick up already!

His eyes hurt. They already burned with unshed tears that he’d still been too scared to release, and the cool air didn’t help. Crying on the street was a vulnerability he wasn’t ready to face. His lungs burned. He’d been sprinting non-stop for who knows how long. His own panicked gulps for air and the all-too-loud hum of a blinking streetlight were the only sound on the silent street. Virgil had been watching the moths swarm at the fixture for who knows how long, finding odd solace in the fact that at least there was still some life in the darkness. They were still alive, untouched, same as they were yesterday and probably the same as they would be tomorrow, unfazed by the complete turmoil his life had become. And that was somewhat comforting. 

“Virgie, you okay? It’s almost midnight!”

Thank fucking god. He opened his mouth to speak, to explain to Remus what had happened. Obviously, Remus would care. That wasn’t a doubt in his mind; that was the only reason he wasn’t anxious as all fuck right now… about the call, that is. He was anxious about approximately everything else. But as soon as the first noise made its way past his lips, the first utterance of a plea for help, everything that he’d been holding back burst forth like a broken dam. He clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the loud sobbing that he suddenly couldn’t contain.

“Shit. Virgil, what happened? I’m coming over. Are you at home?”

That’s the issue. “No,” he gasped, mildly surprised he hadn’t crushed the phone with the way his grip tightened, “I got kicked out.”

“What the fuck?!”

Virgil flinched. “Can… can you come p-pick me up? I’m at the corner of Jackson and Pullard. Please, please, come get me…”

“Yes. Absolutely. I’m on my way. Stay there, okay?”

Virgil hung up reluctantly after agreeing, not wanting his boyfriend to drive while on the phone, even if Remus gladly would have done it. In fact, he’d used to do it all the time; text, eat, do his makeup, all while cruising down the freeway. He’d only put a stop to it when he saw how much it affected Virgil.  

He counted down the minutes on his phone, always having been nitpicky with times, knowing that it shouldn’t take Remus more than ten minutes to get there. If he remembered correctly where he was at the moment, that is. Remus had gotten kicked out of his parents’ house in his senior year of high school after a bad fight. They’d never really been great parents, always showing favoritism towards his brother (amongst other things), and he was more than willing to leave. Virgil had tried to beg his parents to let Remus stay with them, but they’d downright refused, calling him a bad influence and a string of other insults that Virgil didn’t even like to think about. God forbid what would happen if they found out the two were dating.

…Well, they did now. And God hadn’t exactly forbidden what they’d done. 

But Remus hadn’t had a solid place to live since it had happened almost a year ago. He couch surfed for a while, bouncing between some old friends who had now gone off to college, or just lived in his car. He’d made it work, and had claimed to Virgil that he actually didn’t mind it that much. If he was telling the truth, Virgil wasn’t sure. He’d saved up some money and bought an inflatable mattress that filled up his back seat area, and Virgil was able to give him his family’s old camping stove by convincing them they lost it. It’s not like they’d gone camping since he was a kid, anyways. Last he’d checked, Janus was home for break and Remus was staying with him for the two weeks he was in town, but those two weeks were probably pretty close to done. Unfortunately, Virgil and Janus had never gotten along, so Remus didn’t bring him up. It was a mutual understanding. 

As soon as Remus’ car pulled up to the curb, ten minutes on the dot, Virgil basically flung himself into the passenger seat. The car was warm, so so warm, he almost cried again, this time in relief. Remus pulled back onto the road as soon as he was buckled on. 

“Vee, what happened?” It wasn’t hard to guess, there were only so many reasons his parents would have to kick him out. He’d narrowed it down to his parent’s finally having it with Virgil’s tattoo artist dream, or… well… 

“Someone at my mom’s work found my Instagram. She went up to my mom, basically started gushing about ‘how handsome I was with my boyfriend’. Specifically the picture of us at Pride from a couple years ago.”

“Ah.” Remus knew the picture well. He’d printed it out and it was pinned to the inside of his sun visor. 

“Yeah. Mom called my dad, they were both waiting when I got home. Had screenshots and everything. They grilled me about ‘dishonoring God’ and ‘throwing away my life’. Said I was gonna get AIDS. Die before twenty five. Ya know. The whole lecture.”

Remus didn’t. Surprisingly, him being gay was not a concern of his parent’s. His brother was gay too, and they didn’t give a rat’s ass about that. He nodded along anyways.

“They went on for so long. It was insane. Then they dropped the whole ‘you’re not our son’ thing-” Virgil’s voice cracked, but he swallowed around the lump in his throat and continued, “I figured this is where it was leading to, them kicking me out? I thought they’d give me time to pack, though. Except my dad started getting physical-”

“HE WHAT?!” Remus was tempted to turn the fucking car around and drive to Virgil’s house, just to give his parents a piece of his mind. He was fuming; fuck, he hadn’t been this mad in a while.

“Relax, Rem. I got out before he could actually land a hit. That’s why I don’t have anything with me. I had to run.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know.” Virgil pulled his feet up onto the seat cross legged, trying to rub some feeling back into them. Luckily, they weren’t bleeding, just cold as hell. That was one less thing to worry about. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course, Vi,” Remus’ voice had taken on a softer edge that he rarely allowed anyone to see, and he reached over to take one of Virgil’s hands into his own, “Speaking of which, why were you on Jackson? That’s, what, three miles away from your house?”

“When I say I ran, I mean literally. I was scared they would follow me.” Virgil shrugged, as if the statement wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing Remus had ever heard. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, I just ran. That’s why it took me so long to realize I should call you.”

Remus sighed, letting his thumb run against Virgil’s knuckles. “You don’t have to act all brave, Vi.”

“I don’t think I ever saw you cry when you got kicked out.”

“That’s because I didn’t love my parents. I honestly didn’t. I know your parents mean a lot to you. And I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

It was the truth, but he honestly didn’t want to think about it right now. What kind of loving family kicks out their child? Virgil took a shaky breath in and mumbled, “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Okay. Let’s talk about something else. What’s our plan?”

Virgil was quiet for a long moment, as if deep in thought. He watched the scenery fade from his suburban area of town to the darker, rural parts of the town’s edge, not knowing or caring where they were driving. The escape from street lights was nice. “Why do we need a plan?”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up at the sudden playful tone in Virgil’s words. “Oh?”

“I mean, is anything really holding us here?” 

“My, my,” Remus crooned, pulling into an empty lot and parking in the furthest spot from the street, “I thought I was the impulsive one.”

“I’m serious, Rem!” Virgil laughed, swatting lightly at Remus’ hand. The happy sound was like music to his ears. “I’m dead serious! What’s keeping us here?”

“Patton? Logan?”

“Both across the country. And you know they’re considering staying there when they graduate.” Janus’ name was an understood thing. They both knew his school was barely an hour from the other two. Even if Virgil couldn’t stand the guy, he knew that Remus and Janus went far back. Judging by Remus’ slowly brightening expression, he could assume that Janus would probably be down to stay there as well. 

“Work?”

“I work at Walmart. They won’t miss me. Try again.”

Remus scrunched his eyebrows almost thoughtfully, even though this was maybe the easiest decision he’d ever had to make. Plus, they both knew Remus didn’t really ‘think’ in general. “It almost sounds like you want to take a roadtrip, my little emo.”

Virgil scrunched his nose at the nickname, but let a wider smile spread across his tear stained cheeks. “I kind of do.”

Remus shut the car off, turning to his boyfriend with a shit eating grin. “I like this new side of you.”

“Well…” Virgil’s voice turned sheepish under the almost cheshire cat level expression, “Should we?”

“Let’s make up our minds tomorrow.” Remus stated, gesturing to the mattress behind him, “Sleep for tonight. You must be exhausted, coming up with ideas like this.”

Virgil grumbled under his breath, something about ‘not being a baby’, but clambered into the backseat after Remus, double checking the locks on the doors as he went. The air mattress was comfier than he thought it would be, and it was only made better when Remus pulled him in like a teddy bear, tugging a blanket over them. They both sighed in contentment, then promptly burst out laughing at the synchronicity.  

“Oh my god, what have we become?” Remus gasped, pulling Virgil in closer nonetheless. Virgil snorted in response, looking up to meet Remus’ eyes through a haze of sudden exhaustion and amusement. The laughter died down slowly as they both gave in to their fatigue, finishing the day with a slow kiss that left them both breathless. Virgil fell asleep with plans forming and circulating through his mind, the rest of the evening almost forgotten.

--------------------------------------------

His parents were at work, and Virgil knew their kitchen window didn’t lock properly, which was what led to him stuffing everything he could into a black duffel bag while Remus kept watch from his car. He wasn’t too concerned about the parents coming home, but it gave him ample time to look over the map he’d bought from the gas station that morning and plan a route. He didn’t want to admit that his leg was shaking from pure excitement. This idea had been somewhere in the back of his mind for a long time, but he knew Virgil valued his relationship with his family and liked being near them, so he never brought it up. Granted, the situation wasn’t great, but he considered this ‘making the best of it’. A twisted paradise. 

He barely flinched as his trunk was thrown open and Virgil threw his bag inside before hopping back into his seat.

“Okay, so how about we drive up to Maine, apparently the sea food is legendary! Then we cut back through Ohio. There’s literally nothing in Ohio, but we can cross it off the list at least! And then-”

Virgil laughed, cutting him off, “I thought we weren’t planning!”

“Well, we need at least a rough idea,” Remus said with a pout, “What we do there and how long we stay, that’s up to impulse. I was thinking we should try to get through all the states, wouldn’t that be cool?”

Virgil could only nod, leaning forward to kiss Remus again. “Sounds amazing,” he murmured, so close they were almost touching. They’d talked to Logan and Patton earlier that morning, and they were equally as excited for the two of them. Remus had called Janus while Virgil was packing, quickly explaining the situation (and also why Remus had disappeared in the middle of the night), and Janus supported it. Made sense, since he was almost as impulsive as Remus. Plus, he was going back to school in a couple days, so it didn’t make much of a difference. That said, they still didn’t have a time limit. Their friends were just starting second semester, meaning they could schedule themselves to arrive in California for summer break, or they could spend longer on the road. But schedules are for chumps. 

As they rolled out of the quaint neighborhood Virgil had grown up in, Remus reached down and took his hand again. “Say goodbye to white picket fences.” And god, the joyful expression on Virgil’s face was enough to make him melt.

By the time they hit the freeway, they were both nearly shaking with anticipation. Virgil stuck his hands out the sunroof, the wind whipping through his hair, and let out a whoop that was almost contagious. This was the start of something amazing, they both felt it. 

Cali, here we come.

[amphtaminedreams]

Spring/Summer & Haute Couture Week 2021: Whoops, I’ve Missed a Loooot (Part 2)

Hey to anyone reading,

I’m so sorry for the gap between the last fashion week review post and this one! Argh. I had no idea I posted it as long ago as the beginning of March but I think we can all agree that lockdown has fucked with our perceptions of time completely. I wish I could say the delay in posting was as simple as me being busy but I’ve also started to reflect on whether or not I want to carry on this format of posts for the time being; on the scale of problems, this one is wayyy down there in the very lower quartile of the first world region, but my motivation to carry on this kind of content in the form of long-winded text posts is...meh...not so much there anymore. At first I was thinking the issue was that working on these was my last priority on my daily to-do lists but as I’ve got back into writing fiction, it’s kind of occurred to me that the fact I was putting these posts on my to-do lists in the first place along with things like doing the ironing and contacting student finance speaks volumes. When I’m back from work or winding down, opening up Tumblr and coming back to this draft isn’t something that I think of as a fun stress reliever in the way drafting stories is. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my imagination or my creativity or expressing myself in any way and it’s not much of an escape from day to day life in the way that writing dialogue or exploring characters is. Maybe it’s because I’ve done quite a few of these posts now but I just tend to feel like I’m repeating myself, you know kinda like when you’re writing an essay and trying to fill up a word count; of course there are collections that I do have a lot of opinions on but by and large, sometimes it boils down to THESE CLOTHES ARE JUST FUCKING PRETTY, OKAY?! There’s only so many things you can say about a tulle skirt or an exaggerated collar before you want to strangle yourself with said tulle. I used to think iF VoGUe RuNwaY wRitErs CaN dO iT WhAT's MY exCusE until I realised that 1). Vogue Runway writers actually get paid and 2). for the most part all they do is explain the designer's intentions behind the collections verbatim without giving a critical opinion anyway.

I think a lot of the pressure I feel to justify what are in reality quite simple observations and opinions goes back to some of the feelings I explained in my first ever fashion week review where people who know more about fashion and have a formal education in the subject tend to be kind of gatekeep-y and elitist. It can never be that you appreciate different things about a collection but rather than one of you has taste and the other doesn’t and if it wasn’t obvious, the taste level assigned to you by the powers that be tend to positively correlate with the amount of money you have available to spend on a degree that has a reputation for failing to provide a steady income, which for most makes it an unrealistic avenue to pursue. I know, I know, the pressure is totally self-inflicted and wholly imagined seeing as I have under 500 followers on here and those who do interact with these posts most likely do so for the pictures but I still feel it, and given that I’m going to have enough external pressure to write essays when I return to uni in September, why on earth am I wasting time putting it on myself? When just posting photosets of my favourite looks is not only actually enjoyable for me but is also what other people WANT to see too? Nobody wants to read a self-indulgent paragraph like this when they’re here for the clothes and to be honest, for the most part I don’t want to write them anyway unless it’s something I have strong feelings about or if a collection can only be properly appreciated with analysis. I think I’ve made pretty clear which designers I’m a fan of, do you really need to hear me raving about Gucci or Zimmerman or Miu Miu or Balenciaga again? Is there gonna be anything revolutionary in yet another rant about Maria Grazia? Course not. I mean, if you are reading, you might have to witness those things one last time because I do intend to finish off this season’s review in this format for consistency purposes and because I’ve already got all the notes now but on the whole, I doubt anyone will miss my rambles.

So, with all that in mind, I think after I finish my S/S21 posts I am gonna start just uploading these posts without the written part. I mean, for one, the simplicity of doing this means I’m much less likely to procrastinate making them which in turn means I’ll be able to get them out right after the shows as a kind of summary as opposed to months later when they’re no longer as relevant. This will also give me more time to work on the writing I actually enjoy. Right now I’m going through and editing my 17 year old self’s “grown-up” take on the Pretty Little Liars blackmail murder mystery style plot line which I wrote back when I was completely and utterly obsessed with the show and bitterly disappointed by the last couple of seasons. The writing is pretty mediocre and often hugely cringey to read back now but I am still a fan of the basic plot and I’m genuinely motivated to see if I can make it something actually worth reading, and to get onto that ASAP; this feels especially important right now given that the HBO version of the series’ apparent upcoming release has sent that ever-present writer’s fear of seeing-your-same-storyline-done-better-by-somebody-else-thus-forever-relegating-your-version-to-being-the-poor-imitation-so-you-gotta-get-there-first into overdrive (or maybe that’s just me and my neuroses). Again, it’s a totally unfounded fear based on the fact that the HBO show will probs get millions of viewers whilst I will be doing little more than shouting into the void but anybody who’s used Turnitin to submit an essay that ultimately counts for little more than like 1% of your grade or degree will know that no matter how irrelevant your work is, the concept of failing a plagiarism check, be it via a computer algorithm or one random stranger on the internet’s assessment, is enough to conjure visions of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse galloping towards you screaming “START THE WHOLE THING AGAIN” before releasing a hoarde of 2015 Chanel vs. Walmart style comparison memes.

Now, speaking of Chanel, I should probably get back into the reviewing. 

So for the last time for a little while, here’s Christian Siriano:

Siriano’s designs are a great example of work I feel guilty enjoying. I know that when it comes to quality, the high fashion community have a lot of (negative) things to say and I really can’t speak to that because quite honestly, I know very little about textile manufacturing. Solely from my own point of view though, I do like his work a lot. I wouldn’t claim for a minute that he’s a pioneer in terms of his creations but I would 100% love to wear them and I DO hugely admire his commitment to putting women of all sizes on the runway and designing pieces that don’t simply cater to straight up and down types which is more than can be said for most brands. I get that his collections are pretty formulaic, taking what has worked for the likes of Chanel and Alessandra Rich, De La Renta and Carolina Herrera, Michael Kors too (who is kind of guilty of the same thing himself), but that’s not to say his work is bad. Let’s be real, we’ve been on this planet thousands of years, we’re all taking inspiration from someone, and maybe figures like Kors and Siriano could wait a *little* longer before taking said inspiration but their aim at the end of the day is to sell clothes, not break barriers, a task which although often left to the big name brands, they too often fail at. I’m not going to lie, I’m feeling this whimsical mid-century tea party vibe, it’s elegant and it’s cutesy and My Fair Lady-esque, and you bet your arse I would be absolutely thrilled to wear one of these looks on a summer red carpet. I just can’t say no to anything tulle-maybe it’s that I was on Toddlers & Tiaras in a past life or maybe it’s that I watched too many Barbie Princess films growing up, but I like pretty much everything going on here, especially Siriano is giving us matching fedoras too. Plus, can we take a moment to praise Siriano for his COVID relief efforts? Near the beginning of the pandemic, he turned his studio into a mask manufacturing factory in order to send them out as donations, and I think that is very cool.

Then there’s Christopher Kane who once again came through with the most insanely gorgeous prints:

I mean, paint splattering is hardly a new technique but I haven’t seen it done as a print so tastefully before-it eats the Moschino biro scribble print (which apparently was copied too speaking of the tendencies of designers to “borrow” inspiration) for breakfast. It’s shit because there weren’t many looks in this collection and they weren’t really shot in a way that does them any justice but I thought I’d include the few I saved.

Comme Des Garcons is a fave of the high fashion community and one I look forward to seeing at fashion week but can never quite get behind. I appreciate the what-the-fuckery of it all with this show totally being able to pass as a run-through of some kind of nuclear waste themed scare house at one of Thorpe Park’s fright nights. I assume given that and the plastic Mickey Mouse print it’s supposed to be some kind of reference to the part late-stage capitalism has played in the hellish landscape we find ourselves in today? Or something all intellectual? In which case I made my interpretation with farrrr too much confidence. But Anyway! Who knows! I’ll leave the analysis to the fashion students, and give it one word: trippy.

Onto Dion Lee, a brand I truly do get excited to talk about because it’s rare that I don’t LOVE his work.

Without fail, Lee manages to be confidently ahead of the curve without going out of his way to announce it and his genius to everyone with flamboyant shows and exaggerated designs and extortionate prices. He is very much an underdog in the fashion world in terms of big names but you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn’t love his collections. His S/S21 collection is one of my favourites of the bunch. I love seeing something I’ve never seen before and the palm leaf breast plate is so odd but so cool and so perfectly Dion Lee at the same time; we’ve seen jungle/tropical inspired collections sooo many times *cough cough D&G cough cough* and THIS is how you make them fresh and unique. I mean, never in a million years did I think I’d get behind the resurgence of the gladiator sandal trend but Lee has me changing my mind. This is one of the very rare times you will ever see me using this meme to praise a man but:

I mean, he has Fernanda Ly modelling for him, that the man has taste goes without saying.

Now for a bit of a full circle moment, given that I did actually praise Dior’s haute couture collection in my first ever post; Maria Grazia did GOOD. Well, with haute couture at least.

She’s always pretty hamfisted with her references, there’s no denying, with that Grecian Goddess style RTW collection typifying that statement completely, but luckily she struck gold this time round; as someone who studied the Tudors for A-level history, seeing a modern take on the exaggeratedly feminine renaissance silhouettes with the baroque prints and the deep jewell tones got me super excited especially when you throw in the dreamy tarot theming and the nods to the mystical and arcane. Seeing as the Heavenly Bodies Met Gala (I know, I know, I need to move on) was some time ago now and Cersei Lannister’s *SPOILER* been crushed by a rock (could also be seen as a metaphor for the irrelevancy David Benioff and D.B Wise condemned GoT to when they aired that shitty ending tehe) and so probably won’t be getting a collection based on her costumes any time soon, this is the only fashion take on this kind of period dress I’m going to get…and you know what? I’m okay with that. Thanks Maria, I guess?

Her RTW collection wasn’t absolutely awful either, and slightly better than the past few collections at least. Put a monkey in a room with a typewriter (or show it enough similar well-received collections) and it will eventually write something that makes sense, don’t they say? I like the nomadic feel of a lot of the looks and there’s beautiful layering going on but the aura of exotic opulence unsurprisingly didn’t stick around for long and I found that there was a decline in quality in the midsection of the show that landed a lot of the outfits in either awkward mother of the bride at a beach wedding or The Only Way is Essex Ocean Beach PLT sponsored poolside party territory. The looks picked back up a bit towards the end stretch of the show but I wasn’t a fan of the Gucci style oversized glasses which were so out of place with the rest of the theming that if anything they seemed like a cheap grab at relevancy. So yeah, a middling, subpar Etro-esque collection which is better than usual for Dior I suppose.

Next, Elie Saab, whose S/S21 collection was kinda disappointing, tbh. Oh how the turns have tabled given that positive Dior review and my usual love of Saab’s collections.

I know his dresses lose some of their appeal when we can’t see them in motion but even ON the runway I can’t see myself being dazzled by any of these pieces the way I usually am. They’re lacking the level of detail and craftsmanship I associate with the brand seemingly in favour of block colours and suits and the issue is that the whole Disney Princess fantasy has always been the appeal for me because the silhouettes aren’t interesting enough on their own. They’re not ugly pieces, they’re nice, but does nice really have a place in high fashion when the pieces are so basic in both their design and presentation that the shots could pass as ripped from a catalogue? The strongest parts of the collection were when it did go down the more delicate route with the muted blue suits and the white feather trimmed dresses, the small, ornamental gold details reminding me of a very toned down nod to Schiaparelli’s hardware, but with regards to the bright coloured pieces, I can’t lie-they did look like something you could find in the M&S Per Una holiday section. Then you’ve got the weakest parts, which were just flat out ugly: sheer giraffe print, sweat band style elasticated waits, and long chiffon shirts that I hate to admit read as frumpy. There are times where I’ve not been particularly excited by an Elie Saab collection in the past, but I do think this is the first time I’ve actively disliked parts of it.

Conversely, Erdem’s S/S21 collection was super strong, and solidified the brand’s place in my mind as a dependable source of kooky maximalism, this time round giving us  Anya Taylor Joy’s Emma wardrobe on speed. You could tell me Erdem Moralıoğlu had just raided the Bridgerton set’s fitting rooms and put it on a runway and I would 100% believe you and I mean that in a positive way because to give my unpopular opinion, the clothes were the only good thing about that show. The endearingly florid details of exaggerated bows and clashing florals were still there but this time in a way that felt more subtle and self-assured, as if the calming influence of the wooded set’d had a direct hand in the designs, giving the rugged, ethereal feel to the collection I associate with brands like Brock and Simone Rocha, all whilst keeping the parts of Erdem I’m so fond of.

Is it really much of a shock that I included pretty much every look from the Etro S/S21 show?  Like, you know that Christian idea of God, like, (the voice in my head is very much taking on the dumb valley girl voice that anybody who reads this is most probably getting too) knowing our souls? I think Veronica Etro knows mine. So no, no surprise. Though there were a few unconventional touches thrown into these looks (the campier prints and nautical theming we see with the 80s beach towel print, for example, reminded me a bit of Versace) the mystical bohemian it girl that Etro designs for would still be highly satisfied. Sure, it might be a wardrobe fit for a holiday less adventurous than backpacking but if she wanted a tropical poolside holiday, this collection is the one, the paisley print chiffon mini and maxi dresses especially. I’m just gonna pretend I don’t see the monstrosity that is leggings worn as trousers-it’s a fashion rule I refuse to abandon-because they are the only stain on an otherwise expectedly gorgeous collection.

Next, an unusually reserved RTW collection from Fendi:

More in line with the wardrobe of a European fashion editor than the glamorous trophy wife (who let’s say uses that facade as a guise to ruthlessly run her husband’s whole business empire from behind the scenes because in this house we do complex female characters only), these pieces are lot “smarter” and more professional looking than Fendi’s typical offerings; where I feel Fendi usually designs for the society girl who wouldn’t mind a front page scandal, these are the kind of outfits a young member of Monaco’s royal family would wear for a positively received but business-as-usual press tour. I know, Fendi is an Italian brand, but this is more Southern France to me. We’re talking some 2nd page shots of a Kate Middleton type on a yacht on the Riviera smiling and waving as her PR team’s ideal scenario. Still, whilst fewer exaggerated silhouettes, animal prints and overtly luxurious fabrics (real leathers, silks and furs for example) mean that the drama’s a little toned down, it’s all still very expensive looking and combines the classically feminine glamour of the past and the minimalism of modernity in the artful manner that we’re used to. Maybe it’s me being a basic bitch but I always love seeing Ashley Graham on the runway too, even if brands to tend to use her as their single token plus size model.

Kim Jones’ debut haute couture collection for Fendi, however, wasn’t a very well received one. I don’t hate it personally but I can see where the criticisms are coming from. Whilst it’s closer to the version of Fendi I’ve come to expect and there were some stunning pieces which completely encapsulated that distinctive aura of luxe and glamour, there were quite a few lazy pieces which could’ve been from any designer. I also felt the collection was a bit upstaged by what seemed to be a who’s who of the modelling world; having Bella, Cara, Kate and Naomi ALL walk in one show was a bit distracting and took the focus off the clothes completely.

Giambattista Valli’s RTW collection was gorgeous as ever; the man has undeniably mastered the art of delivering classic, objective elegance, the kind of designs I feel would make you light on your feet and smell like strawberries and cream the minute you put one on. Whilst as a brand his RTW shows are rarely trendsetting, they reliably produce a plethora of unfailingly graceful and demure pieces, as appealing to your mum and your grandma as they are to young women and little girls, and this collection is another victory lap for Valli when it comes to upholding his signature tea party and artisan cupcake making and rose garden strolling and bottomless rosé brunch appropriate aesthetic. There were a lot of outfits that were bordering on overly juvenile, with structures a little too basic to justify the amount of sequins thrown on, but when it’s good, it’s so sweet that regardless of how to formula it is, I can’t help but fall in love.

Valli’s haute couture collection was stunning too and for sure a more exciting offering than the RTW. There was of course a lot of the signature tulle but it was head-turning, over the top in a way that leant far more towards the experimental than I expected. The photos themselves are 100% believable as a some kind of Vogue behind the scenes editorial shoot on the set of live action Disney princess movie (in between takes of the climactic ball scene if you wanna get specific with the vision); if you are looking for a prettier alternative to the primary colours and disruptive shapes of a Molly Goddard collection, this is the one. It’s giving the themes of excess and abundance I associate with that of the Hunger Games Capitol but through the softer lens of a Sofia Coppola movie, and being the typical cinema loving white girl I am, I’m obviously on board with that vibe.

I did SUCH a 180 on Givency’s S/S21 collection from when I first saw it to writing a review. My initial reaction was one of disappointment, I guess simply because Givenchy has given us so many bold pieces and presentations over the last few years whereas this is more low-key. After properly considering it though as I would any other brand, I came to the conclusion that I do actually really like it. It’s still got the strange, androgynous silhouettes popping up throughout and the futuristic space-age details but with a more down-to-earth, streetwear feel, albeit a very slick, glossy spin on the trends of the rabble (that’s us guys) of course before we go believing it’s achievable. On the one hand, the devil horn accents are a touch Claire’s accessories halloween range but at the same time, done with confidence they’re kind of cool and bring something new and fun to the table in line with the dark theatre of Givenchy’s last few shows.

Now for Gucci, which for the first time I have to say, if I'm attempting objectivity, is not a standout. 

Like, can I just start by saying though the format it’s presented in is cute, it’s not ideal as a way of actually showing the collection. I get that the vintage shop bin vibe is a huge part of Gucci’s brand but polaroids make it SO hard to actually see the clothes, and that’s what we’re here for right? I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t like what I see here-the clothes are gorgeous, an idyllic ode to the off-duty wardrobes of Studio 54-ers, bohemian style icons like Charlotte Rampling and young Olivia Newton-John, psychedelic rock guitarists and the inhabitants of San Fransisco’s Haight during the late 60s and early 70s, Alessandro Michele’s favourite period of reference. I can’t pretend otherwise, or act like I wouldn’t want to wear the shit out of this collection. Buut, for Gucci? It’s a little underwhelming. These are the kind of filler looks we get in a typical Gucci show to go alongside the more statement pieces, which this collection is lacking. It’s just that these are designs which usually gets people talking and these pieces don’t do that. It sucks because for most other brands this would be a stand out collection, an immersive, luscious vignette of what people tend to think of as a cultural golden era, but when you’ve had a show that involved models carrying replicas of their own decapitated heads down the runway in the last 5 years, of course something more toned down like this is gonna generate a lot of “is that it?”s.

I owe Hermes an apology. Looking back, I have disliked all their previous collections for the same reason that I now really like this one; maybe it’s in part down to the frustration of still having to whack out the winter coat on occasion in May (fuck British weather and climate change), but suddenly I really appreciate the value of some good quality, versatile outerwear. Hermes is giving us that in spades here and for that, I bow down to them. The pieces on offer are clearly well-made and genuinely practical, and through the minimalist approach manage to retain both an air of timeless sophistication whilst also being youthful and on trend. The leather tactical vest co-ord I can easily see edged up and taking centre stage on one of those insane Seoul street style slow-mo TikToks that were big a couple of months ago and there are several pieces that could tie together a grunge influenced k-style look just as well as they could exist for years on end as the wardrobe staple of a high-powered businesswoman. Designer Nadège Vanhee-Cybulski’s strengths really come through with the simpler looks and it’s the patterned pieces that drag down an otherwise flawless collection; I guess because the aesthetic is very minimalist, the patterns can’t be anything overly decorative but unfortunately this has a bit of a dowdy effect when you pair it with such modest silhouettes. Disregarding those elements of the collection though, it was super good.

It goes without saying that Iris Van Herpen’s haute couture collection was breathtaking; if the fashion community can agree on anything, it’s that this woman’s work is consistently awe-inspiring. She captures the wonder of the universe, the biological structures and kaleidoscopic colours we don’t even register, through fashion in a way that others can only imitate, to mesmerising, truly transcendent effect; I can only assume Van Herpen has mother nature whispering into her ear because how the hell else do you explain her ability to take the kind of microscopic organisms they show you images of in an outdated GCSE science powerpoint and make a dress that resembles one so stunning? Care to explain, Iris? Because if there is some kind of line of communication between the two of you can you please tell the bitch I’m over this weather and that I have cute summer outfits I’m waiting to wear so can she pack this torrential rain shit in? K, thanks xoxo

See it seems shady as fuck to go from IVH to Isabel Marant like this because we are talking 2 designers with totallyyyy different approaches to fashion; Iris Van Herpen is haute couture for starters whereas Marant is commercial, and that’s her thing, but unfair comparisons aside this collection is still a bit of a let down. This is considering I do usually really like Isabel Marant collections based on whether or not I’d wear the pieces, which seems a more appropriate barometer to use to come to a quality verdict. Whilst there were a few of the elegant bohemian pieces my mind goes to when it comes to her brand, the steps outside of that comfort zone didn’t pay off; graffiti print (can be cool if done with some subtlety which apart from a few exceptions was not the case here), cheap looking reflective fabric, and MC Hammer style dungarees, it seems to be an attempt to merge 80s trends with modern urban culture, and an attempt that at times verged on the disastrous. It’s good for a brand to experiment, of course, and appeal to a wider client base than usual, but when it’s bad the unfortunate take away is that the design team don’t have the chops to pull off straying from familiar territory; designers wouldn’t be showing at fashion week if this was truly the case because disregarding the influence of nepotism, fashion is an area you need real talent, perseverance and business smarts to excel in, and so it doesn’t do a team justice when they do fail.

J.W Anderson, on the other hand, really put his best foot forward this season and presented this work in a really cool way too which only added to the positives; whilst the way the shots were edited was funky af, it didn’t detract from the actual outfits, and if we are to see the same limitations when it comes to the F/W collections being released, this is something a lot of designers and editing teams should take note of. The idiosyncratic exaggerated shapes that we see as a recurring feature of Anderon’s collections were still on show but this time round with added femininity, billowing skirts and trailing jewellery that channel the stage looks of Stevie Nicks in a way that’s modern and functional and maybe even fit for the office if you were to work in a more creative industry with a chill boss. Could also work for a coven of witches who practice meditation by bonfires in the moonlight and burn the letters of men who wronged them in some Arizonian desert, so like I said, functional! Who doesn’t like versatility? The only thing I’m not too keen on is the shoes but they’re not so bad that it affects my opinion of the collection and they look comfy I guess.

Lastly, we’ve got to talk about Jacquemus, one of the most influential names in fashion at the moment. And yes, this time round, I’m doing it: I’m buying into the hype.

This collection is gorgeousss! I can see already that a lot of the recurring elements of the show are going to be big summer trends for this year (the cut outs and strappy details on the blouses are everywhere already) even though it isn’t hot enough to have collectively decided the time to start dressing for heat is upon us yet, and that’s always a good indicator of how successful the designer was in their vision and attempts to assess the needs and wants of fashion enthusiasts; whether I’m as big a fan of his work as everyone else seems to be, there’s no denying Simon Porte Jacquemus has always excelled at this practice if the buzz around him is anything to go by. It makes sense given the last year of us all being stuck in and suppressed that a lot of us are already romanticising the summer ahead, anticipating picnics and beach days and general Theresa May running through wheat fields type shenanigans galore, in spite of how dubious an assumption it is to make that British weather will allow for this; Porte Jacquemus has very much catered to this wishful thinking and the popularity of the whole escapist “cottage core” aesthetic, sexing it up a little bit with pieces that hug the body in ways only Mugler knows how whilst being lightweight and relaxed enough to look good with windswept, sandy hair and a little dose of sunburn. I’m talking enough to give you some cutesy freckles and rosy cheeks not PSA on the importance of suncream territory, guys, what is it with those of us on the gen Z/millennial cusp not taking sun damage seriously!? Why do I have to beg so many of my friends to wear it!? Does nobody else remember those photos they’d show you in PSHE in English primary schools of burnt people’s skin under UV lights? Or is that just me being weird and only having such a vivid memory of the images because teachers told us we had to wait until year 6 to see them due they to their “graphic” nature only for my gore-loving self to be extremely underwhelmed when we finally did get that lesson? They showed us a woman giving birth in year 4 for fuck’s sake. THAT was traumatising.

Back to the actual point anyway, with just a couple of negatives, the first of which being that the pieces are very similar to those feminine looks we saw dotted about the Jacquemus menswear collection from last year that were all over fashion Twitter. In Simon Porte Jacquemus’ defence though, it makes sense that those tones and silhouettes would be revisited in a full womenswear collection for that very reason; considering they went down so well and that lockdown gave us a bit of a half-baked summer in 2020, expanding on those elements enough for a whole new collection makes good business sense. We did get some cool additions too, mainly in the form of accessories, with the hardware details on the belts similar to those included in the Givenchy collection and the abstract hair slides being standouts for me. It was all exquisite-the shoes, the jewellery, the styling, everything 10/10. My other nitpick, and I say nitpick not because it’s not important but because it’s an issue that’s hardly restricted to Jacquemus (this casting team are far from the worst offenders, Saint Laurent I’m looking at you), is that I WISH we’d see more diversity with the models. Despite what my body dysmorphia yells at me, I am small, and yet seeing all those fucking minuscule waists made me die a little inside; it’s crazy to me that in 2020 the lack of variety in body types on the runway is still such a problem.

I must have said this a million times but I don’t want to end on a negative note so let me reiterate: this collection was STUN. NING. Plus there were some others I’ve talked about in this post that I’m sure will make it into my top 20 in the final part, Jacquemus, Dion Lee and Etro for sure; we even got some gorgeous pieces from Maria Grazia which I thought was a sentence I’d never type out. Have I said enough to not leave a bad taste in the mouth of anyone who read to the end of this post? I hope so, lol! TBH, it’s impressive given everything that’s going on that the majority of designers did roll out collections in September as usual so serious respect to them and their design teams for that.

In the next post, I’ll fingers crossed be able to include everything from Kim Shui (exciting!) through to at least Off-White (actually pretty good this time?!) and make this whole thing a 4 parter before getting straight on top of the photo posts I’m thinking about doing for the time being for the F/W21 shows. So as usual, if you did read to the end thank you so much and I respect the perseverance you must have to get through all my rambling, lmao. Hope everyone is well and coping okay and again, my inbox is always open for any post suggestions, constructive criticism, or just a chat for anyone who needs a listening ear.

Big love and thank you again!

Lauren x

[atiny-piratequeen]

Dear Miss Fie, yesterday, I made up my mind to leave Tumblr. I even said goodbye to anyone. I hadn't logged out, so I got notifications. Against my better judgement, i decided to check it and ended up spending a good few minutes on it. When I saw what happened with your account, I'm very embarrassed. I feel mortified actually. That someone who hates me is going after you. I'm glad that Mr Lilac, Ms Atinyarmy and Ms yunhofingers whom I know defended you. I genuinely and wholeheartedly apologise. I was not thinking of deactivating. But if I do, maybe if do it this could end. I feel so awful. I just... I'm sorry.

I legit don't know why you're apologizing. Im sorry if this comes off weird sounding but you're not the first person I've defended and had hate anons come to my box and bark and woof at me from behind their little wall of anonymity. You wont be the last.

You and the dumbass "anon" following me are new to my blog so you dont know how i work here so I'll just tell you flat out what people who've been following me for a while already know;

There's not a single thing some fuckass on anon can say to me that will legitimately make me take them seriously. Ive always had the mentality that if you've got something to fucking say, you say it with your chest and people talking shit on anon are only solidifying that every time they spew whatever bullshit from their mouth, they're not even remotely ready to own up to the consequences of their own actions. They hide because they wanna talk shit and dont wanna have people tell others about their actions if they're an active blog, dont wanna be kicked from nets or blocked, dont wanna deal with other people dming them and sending them asks that are just as harassing or tear apart whatever they sent someone else.

Thats why anons send hate on anon. Because they're cowards.

This person deleted their blog. Made a whole new one, new email and all, and came back to me conviently the same day you said you'd leave to...? Continue making a fucking fool out of themselves. They literally didnt make me upset in the slightest yesterday and i can assure you my friends and i spent a jolly good time fucking laughing at them for their piss poor attempt to do so. They're my fan at this point, hope they kick back and read a few fics since they're already here swimming around my blog all in my business again.

And the thing about the bullshit display we saw yesterday is yall all got to see the same ignorant shit i was sending scs for in my dms. This person with their shitty grammar and their anti black ass mentality that lines up with some drunk ass white karen in walmart in 3am annoying people about "why cant it just be ALL lives matter" ass vibes. I can assure you. Not a single thing that stale granola bar yesterday said actually did anything to me.

You dont need to apologize for shit. If i was worried about someone coming to my blog and saying something to me for defending you, i would have went on anon to defend you, i wouldn't have dropped this blog instead of my main, i wouldn't have dmmed that person first when they were harassing you. I could care less about them being in my ask box and while i appreciate the others having my back, even if they didnt, i would've been fine handling Ronald McDonald the clown in my box just fine.

As I've said, you arent the first person I've stood up for and defended and suddenly had bitch ass anons in my box and you won't be the last. Thats just what Mama Fie does. Now stop apologizing on behalf of someone else's ignorance, drink some water, have a snack or a meal, and enjoy your day. Because baby i assure you, im doing just fine here.

[nevermindirah]

FATWS ep 4: The Whole World is Watching

I sobbed through the end credits.

They’re really, actually going there.

We had such good reason not to trust a fucking Disney property to go there. I think half of why I was crying was I was so surprised — I was grateful — that a piece of corporate media would make a nuanced and radical and open-hearted political point.

Sam Wilson actually got to say, out loud, that Karli Morgenthau has a point.

That moment in Civil War when Steve holds the shield over Tony’s head, pauses with this look in his eye, slams the shield down, and the camera pans out to show the shield through the arc reactor — I never believed Steve would hit Tony in the head with the shield, but I didn’t trust the corporations ultimately responsible for this content not to make him do it. The director of this show was clearly setting up shots specifically so we can make parallels gifsets here on tumblr dot com, Walker kicking in a door to Sam and Bucky’s hotel room like Steve kicked in a door at von Strucker’s castle in AOU, Walker pointing a gun over the shield like Steve did in his first Cap action scene in CATFA, probably others I’m not remembering right now. And then that hold-your-breath moment in Civil War. But John Walker took the serum, and he brutally murdered someone he considered an enemy combatant, who was retreating, out of vengeance.

The Avengers are called that, and in the movie with that name Tony says if they can’t defend the Earth they’ll avenge it, but Tony’s politics were always a big ball of yikes. Steve was never, ever about vengeance, not even against Nazis, not even against Thanos. Stop people from committing atrocities, absolutely, and with deadly force that Steve says in CATWS makes him not sleep so good sometimes, but only to stop the harm, never for revenge.

It makes me think of that quote, that white Americans are lucky that Black Americans just want equality and not revenge. I had to look it up: Kimberly Latrice Jones said this last summer, here’s the video, here’s a transcript. Here’s the full quote: “As far as I’m concerned, they could burn this bitch to the ground. And it still wouldn’t be enough. And they are lucky that what Black people are looking for is equality and not revenge.”

Sam Wilson and Karli Morgenthau have a lot in common. They had two one-on-one conversations about it. You could see on Karli’s face how devastated and overwhelmed and regretful she was over killing Lemar Hoskins. What Sam said to her wasn’t manipulation, he really believes everything he said, and she felt it, and those words are digging under her skin. There are two episodes left and I don’t think this is the last time these two people are going to have an honest conversation about all the ways the world’s power structures have used and ignored and failed them and what they could do together to change it.

Karli Morgenthau is a good person who is so desperate that she’s starting to do some very, very bad things.

Zemo is a terrible person, but he did a very, very good thing in destroying that serum.

That moment the now-murdered Flag Smasher and Karli had over his grandfather’s grave is the crux of the whole thing: it’s rare for good and bad to be clear-cut. There’s even an argument to be made that the vengeful way the Allies tried to extract financial reparations from Germany following WWI created the environment Nazis arose from.

Good people making hard choices in a fucked-up world is why I fell in love with Steve Rogers ten years ago, and why I love Sam Wilson, and why I love CATWS, and they are really. fucking. going. there. with The Falcon and The Winter Soldier.

Before I make myself cry again, I’ll leave y’all with this list of gifsets I desperately want to reblog the shit out of following this episode:

the Dora Milaje beating Walmart Cap’s ass

one of Ayo’s fellow soldiers (what is her name??) kicking the shield up off the floor and holding it (oh my GOD I jumped up off my couch and shouted)

actually every single moment Ayo or any other Dora Milaje was on screen

Karli Morgenthau and Sarah Wilson parallels

“She’s just a kid”: Wanda made a devastating mistake in CACW and Steve was right to say it then; Karli made a devastating mistake in the last episode and another one in this one and Sam is right to say it now

[stellar-alley]

Of Scales and Sea Glass

•Chapter 2•

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Eddie goes shopping for food with Bev and Bill, then washes the mer’s tangled hair.)

Also shout out to @ambitiousskychild on tumblr for being my beta!

~

The next morning Eddie woke up to the sound of the doorbell echoing through the quiet house. His eyes fluttered open as they drifted over to his alarm clock. 11:00am, holly shit i never fucking sleep in this much, Eddie wondered why for only a split second, before the memories of the day prior resufaced. “The merman…” Eddie spoke aloud, his eyes wide with realization. 

Hastily, he threw his legs over the side of his bed and stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom. He slammed himself against the door and opened it up wide. 

The merman had been slouched over in the tub, head underwater. He jerked his head out of the water after the sudden bang against the door. Breathing heavily, mind still hazed by sleep, he watched as the small human, Eddie, shuffled inside. He rolled his eyes at the sight, relieved that it wasn’t a threat. 

“It’s just me don’t worry” Eddie’s voice was groggy and tired as he waved off the merman’s worries. “I-uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay-” The doorbell rang again, Eddie stiffened, “Sorry I’ve gotta get this but please- stay here,” Eddie begged before leaving the room. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Eddie rambled as he unlocked the front door. He swung it open to reveal not just one of the Losers, but two. “Ohmygod- Hey guys!” Eddie’s mood brightened. 

Bill and Beverly both stood on Eddie’s front porch. “Hey Eddie, what’s up?” Bev smiled. Eddie moved aside, allowing his friends to come inside. The three settled into their normal seats in Eddie’s family room. Eddie and Bill on the bigger couch will Bev laid horizontally on the armchair. 

“H-Hows the clean up go-going?” Bill asked as he stretched his hands, sore from the previous day of manual labour. 

“It fucking sucks! It’s so gross. What about you guys?” Eddie stopped himself before he started ranting about all the weird shit he’s found in his pool.

“My aunt and I got most of the stuff cleaned up but now there’s a leak in the roof, so we’ve gotta wait for the maintenance guy to come and patch it up, ” she explained. 

Eddie nodded, then asked, “Bill? How’s Georgie?”

“T-Tired, he hu-hates thunder. The tree in the f-front yard lost a ma-masive branch. My parents told me to go get gru-groceries today,” Bill pulled out a list from his pocket, “Wanna join?” He inquired. 

“Yeah, Big Bill and I were gonna go into town and get some supplies, we were wondering if you wanted in?” Beverly raised her eyebrows at him.

“That’d be great actually,” The mental image of the guest  in his bathtub caused him to realize how much he needed to restock his pantry, “Yeah, I need to stock up,” Eddie concluded. 

The shorter boy glanced down at the pajamas that he wore then back up at his friends, “Let me go get changed then we can head out. Oh, don’t use the upstairs bathroom the toilet… broke,” Eddie lied, but the others didn’t notice. He had a bathroom on the main floor that worked perfectly fine and had no mythical creature hiding in it that they could use.

Eddie checked on the merman one more time and informed him of the recent developments before he got ready and left. Eddie called shotgun as they walked down his driveway, towards Bill’s red Toyota Corolla, Bev rolled her eyes as she hopped into the back. And they were off to the store. 

The trio decided on going to Walmart first as it had most of the things they needed. Eddie walked along the aisle with Bill who pushed the cart, and Bev who rode on the front with her phone in hand, she was scrolling through her list, calling out items she needed for Eddie to put into the cart.

They were about to roll past the fish freezers, when Eddie stopped and signaled for the others so to follow him. “Eddie f-fish? Really?” Bill questions as he turns the kart, Bev hopped off to stand beside Eddie as they observed the fish in the ice below them. 

“Yeah, so?” Eddie’s tone is more defensive than he would prefer, but he needs to feed his trashmouth and fish seemed like the most logical food to buy for something that lived in the ocean. Eddie worried about giving him human food, so he decided to start with the fish then maybe test the waters with something like bread, once the mer regained his hunger. 

“Nothing, it’s just every time I ever offered you sushi during lunch you always talked about your hatred for fish,” Bev recalls a memory from when they were in highschool. 

He gestured for the guy behind the counter to wrap up two of the full salmons, “Well, people change,” Eddie shrugs. He smiled as he was handed the wrapped fish. 

“So what was everyone else up to today?” Eddie changed the subject onto the other Losers. 

“Mike’s on f-farm duty. They had to help f-find one of the sheep that got loose during the st-storm. S-Stan had to work,” Bill explained while he looked over the continents inside of one of the many freezers. 

“And Ben’s mom needed help cleaning. OH! And remember his neighbour with that old ass maple tree?” Eddie nodded as Bev continued, “It fell during the storm, broke an upstairs window. Ben’s mom is pissed,” Bev says with a faint smirk playing over her lips. 

~

Bill pulled up onto their street and Bev was talking about some of the new clothes she was making with one of her old dresses when Eddie remembered he wanted to buy a shirt for the merman. 

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Hm? What? Tired of hearing me talk about fashion?” Bev asked curiously. 

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no, I love hearing about the difference between cotton and polyester. I just remembered I wanted to look at some new shirts while we were out. You don’t have any old big shirts do you?” Eddie asked. He would just lend one of his shirts to the fish, but he was at least 2 sizes larger than Eddie. 

“Maybe?” Bev cocked an eyebrow, “why?”

Eddie blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Growth spurt”

Bill scoffed, which earned him a back hand slap on his arm. 

“I can grow!”.

Bill smirked as he took the key out of the ignition. “Eddie you’re n-nineteen, I think you’re a-a little too old for growth spurts.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered,” Bev put a reassuring hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, Beverly,”  Eddie made sure to eye Bill as he thanked Bev. 

~

Derry’s resident Badass: Left the shirt in the mailbox for you! Enjoy

Eddie read the text from Bev. He finished putting away all of the perishable items before checking his mailbox. Inside he found a light pink T-shirt. It looked pretty normal until he held it up and saw there were two seashell decals on the chest, trying to mimic Ariel’s iconic shell bra. Oh Beverly…. Eddie smirked at the shirt, recalling the times she’d worn this shirt to sleepovers, it always rode halfway down her thighs. He chuckled at the mental image of the trashmouth wearing this shirt. 

Eddie ended up deboning one of the salmon's he bought, which proved itself to be much harder then they make it seem on Master Chief. After he proceeded to chop it into bite-sized pieces. He contemplated cooking the fish but opted not to as he can't imagine any way a merman would have cooked fish underwater. Once he was back in the bathroom, he took his usual seat on the closed toilet. 

The merman’s head was leaning against the back of the tub, silently napping. Eddie admired his raw beauty and sharp features. He looked very at ease, his lips slightly parted and moving ever so slightly as his chest rose and fell with every breath. A small smile crept onto Eddie's face before it turned into a devilish grin. He held the container of food with one hand while the other slid into the water, with one swift notion he sent a small splash of water up and onto the merman’s face. 

 He woke with a startle, his glasses fell from his face with the sudden motion. The calm expression on his face turned to confusion as he scanned the room and realized everything was blurry. His breath now quick as his gaze landed on Eddie who was cracking up. He scowled while he slid his glasses back on.

“Oh come on trashmouth! God you're no fun,” Eddie nagged. 

The Mer crossed his arms over his chest (ignoring the subtle pain it created) and  stuck his tongue in protest. 

Eddie only rolled his eyes before getting to what he'd brought. “So I wasn’t sure what you ate so I bought you fish. Is that okay?” He looked to the merman for help. He stared at Eddie blankly before his brow furrowed and he held out his arms and made a grasping motion with his hands. Like a baby asking for its bottle. 

“What? You wanna do it yourself?” Eddie asked, a little shocked by his sudden desire for independence. Although he would be sad he'd never feel those soft lips against his hand anymore… He shrugged it off. “OKay…” Eddie hesitated only for a moment before handing it over to the merman. 

He mirrored Eddie in the way he held it. Once he was sure he had a steady grasp over the container, he moved a hand to take a piece of fish out and popped it into his mouth. The merman chewed then proceeded to swallow it. He popped another piece into his mouth, chewed then gave Eddie a grateful smile with a mouth full of fish.

Eddie nearly gagged. “EW! Don’t do that trashmouth,” he grimaced, but his voice was filled with amusement as the fish closed his mouth, but kept the smile. 

Later that day the cleaners came for the pool. Eddie greeted them in the driveway and led them into his backyard. He explained what he needed done as he stood a couple feet away from the edge of the pool. The main cleaner talked about prices as Eddie scanned the pool. 

There was still so much shit at the bottom, he was excited to see it gone. But something shiny caught his eye on the ground. He blinked and focused on the little blue scales that sat about a foot away from the pool. Eddie tried to keep calm as he realized there were the merman’s scales.

Shit, I can’t let these guys see those, even if they are just scales. I cannot let anyone find out about him. 

Eddie continued the conversation he was having with the head cleaner as he took a step towards the pool, placing his foot right beside the scales, blocking them from the cleaner’s view. 

“We should be done in a couple hours or so,” he explained. 

Eddie nodded in understanding, then he kneeled down beside the edge. “Okay good.” He placed his hand over the scales but kept his gaze on the pool. “The sooner it’s cleaned means the sooner I get to keep practicing. I’m planning on joining my school’s swim team,” Eddie lied. He picked up the scales and slid them into his pocket as he stood up. 

“Oh! Well good luck with that,” The cleaner smiled. Once everything was discussed, Eddie left them to do their job. He patted the scales in his pocket as he walked back towards the house, a faint smile played across his lips. 

~

The next day Eddie explained to the merman how his pool was now clean and full of water while he examined all of his injuries which seemed to be healing nicely. 

“If I find an easier way to transport you then maybe one day you can go swimming there.” The merman only shrugged in response. That worried Eddie as he would’ve thought the fish would’ve been dying to get back into the water, as that’s where he lived. 

“A-Are you okay?” Eddie immediately moved his hand to feel the creature's forehead, checking for a fever. It was a little hotter than normal but that could have also been because it was scorching hot outside. Eddie slid his hand from his forehead to ruffle the fish’s black mess of curls, something he grew quite fond of doing. But it didn’t go too far as his fingers got tangled in knots.

“God, how tangled is your hair?” Eddie questioned. The merman responded by raking his hands through his hair, only to be met by the same tangles. He simply shrugged. 

Since he’d been in Eddie’s bathtub for the past couple of days, his hair had been able to completely dry, which left it in long thick curls that dangeled into his face. Eddie didn’t mind, he thought it was kinda cute… But now that he knew how knotted they were, he had to do something about it. 

He sighed and stood up, “Well, I don’t know what you guys are doing down in Atlantis, but you’ve gotta start conditioning your hair.”

The merman’s face scrunched up, unsure of what Eddie was suggesting. He folded his arms over the side of the tub and rested his head on top of them as he watched Eddie go through one of the cabinets in the corner. 

When Eddie returned he brought back a bottle of shampoo, conditioner and a brush. He sat on the ground and placed everything beside him. “Dunk your head underwater,” Eddie instructed. 

The merman didn’t. 

“Come on,” Eddie removed his watch and sunk his hands into the water. 

The merman sunk down a bit but stopped right before wetting his hair, as if he was mocking Eddie. 

“Oh fuck you,” Eddie gasped drmatically. He moved his hands to splash the merman. Just as the water was about to wet his face, he raised a hand and it stopped midair, and formed a perfect bubble of water before him. 

Eddie froze. Did it do that? He must’ve taken on a shocked expression as the bubble immediately fell back into the water and the merman’s face turned apologetic, as if he was sorry for frightening the human. 

Something tightened inside Eddie’s chest. The way the merman stopped, just for him, made him feel warm… 

“No, no… It’s okay! I just didn’t know you could do that,” Eddie admitted, his face turning a little red as he rubbed the back of his neck. “C-Can you show me again?” Eddie requested shyly. Sure it’s weird and kinda freaky but that doesn't mean I’m not interested. HE HAS FRICKEN SUPER POWERS!

The merman’s expression softened as a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. This time he pulled a larger bubble of water from the bathtub and held it in the air. With his hand sticking out of the water, he moved his bubble towards him and held it over his head. With the flick of his wrist, the bubble fell over his head, soaking his hair, just like the human had requested. 

Eddie’s eyes filled with wonder, and a little bit of pleasure as the fish boy finally wet his fucking hair. “Cool…”

After the initial shock of the whole superpowers thing settled, Eddie began washing the merman’s hair. First off he squirted a generous amount of shampoo directly onto the mer’s head, then proceeded to massage it into his curls and spread it to cover all of his hair. As he massaged his scalp, the mer released a little moan, obviously enjoying the scalp massage. (Eddie heart raced at the sound of that)

Then Eddie rinsed the suds from his inky black hair and proceeded to add the conditioner. Instead of massaging it in, he grabbed his thick-toothed comb and combed it through. The task took a while as his hair was fairly knotted. 

All of the effort paid off though as once his hair was fully cleaned, Eddie took out the blow dryer. Sure, it spooked the mer at first but once Eddie showed him that it was harmless and only shot out warm air, the merman complied. Though he’s only known Eddie for a couple days now, he’s grown to trust the human, especially considering everything he’s done for him so far. The warm air felt nice on his cold skin, plus he enjoyed how soft hair had become once it was over. He ran his wet fingers through his freshly cleaned locks but was given a light slap from the human, as he claimed, “You’re gonna get your hair wet and gross again.”

The final product left Eddie speechless. The merman’s hair was full of soft curls, they ended just above his neck. The pieces that’d once loosely fell in his face now curled to the side and nicely framed his eyes. 

The merman’s cheeks took on a new shade of pink as he noticed the human’s stare. 

Eddie smiled at his hard work, but he also smiled because of the way the mer glanced away shyly, as if he was a little embarrassed at the sudden gaze on him. Eddie would’ve thought he was cute, maybe even beautiful, but just as the warmth began to spread in his chest, he pushed the feelings. We’re from two different worlds. The reminder brought him back to reality. 

“You look nice,” the compliment brought the merman’s gaze back onto Eddie. He gave the human a small nod, as if to say ‘thank you’. 

~

During the span of a week, Eddie had developed a bit of a schedule on how his days would play out. First he’d go say goodmorning to trashmouth and make sure he’s still alive. Then he’d go make them breakfast, he’s been testing out some new recipes for himself, while the mer still ate fish. Actually Eddie’s noticed now that he’s constantly getting food ready for the merman, he’s started putting more thought into his own meals. Which is a step up from frozen meals and cereal that he was used to. Then they’d eat together in the bathroom. Eddie had taken up sitting on the floor so he could be closer to his trashmouth while they ate. Sometimes the fish boy would shoot him curious glances, staring down at Eddie’s food from where he sat in the tub. So Eddie would put a forkful of whatever he had made out in front of the fish and feed him. Eddie was happy to know he could start branching out in his meal planning. Now that he knew human food wouldn’t upset the fish’s stomach. Most days Eddie tried to give the mer a big breakfast so if Eddie needed to leave for any reason, his guest wouldn’t die of hunger.

As much as Eddie wished he could spend his days beside the tub, uncovering every secret the merman held, he knew if he started acting weird, someone was bound to notice. So he kept in contact with his friends, going over to their houses, inviting them over once the backyard was clean. Sadly he’s had to miss two sleepovers as he doesn't trust the fish to be home alone for that long. 

Eddie even moved Goldy’s fish bowl into the bathroom to keep his trashmouth company. Though she’s on the counter, away from the merman’s claws, he seems to enjoy the company. So now when Eddie returns home from a day at Mike’s farm or something, he doesn't seem as lonely. 

Over the past week, Eddie grew oddly fond of the merman. Sure, he couldn’t talk, but Eddie did enough of it for the both of them. Most of the time he just complained about random things, other times he’d explain human things like technology and phones, and sometimes he’d bring his comics into the bathroom and read to him (carefully as he did not want to get them wet). 

Also, most, if not all of the mer’s injuries had healed pretty well.  The only explanation Eddie could come up with to explain the miraculous chain of events was that mermaids had a better healing factor compared to humans. Which was on one hand, good! He seemed happier now that he wasn't in pain. But on the other hand, Eddie knew once he was fully healed, there wouldn’t be a reason to take care of him anymore, which would mean he’d have to… Eddie shook his head, dismissing the thought and returned back to the present, where he was removing the bandages on the mer’s chest. 

The one he had yet to take off was the one that sat on the mer’s cheek. He was slightly worried that out of all the injuries, that would be the one not to heal correctly. Leaving a messy, jagged scar on a face that would have otherwise been considered perfect. With as much care as he could muster, he cupped one side of the mer’s face with his hand (he ignored the butterflies that had formed in his stomach) to keep his head steady while the other slowly peeled the bandage off. 

He held the bandage in his hand and admired the skin that was now healed. Instead of a nasty scar that Eddie had imagined, all that was left was a simple line that was half the size of the original cut. Eddie thought it made him look even cuter, in a badass type of way. 

Eddie realized a moment too soon that he’d been staring longingly at the merman who’s cheek he still cupped with his hand. He was about to move away when the mer quickly reached his hand up towards the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him down. Before Eddie could even process what was happening, their lips smashed together. For a second he couldn’t believe what was happening. Their lips moved together as if they had kissed dozens of times before. The mer’s tongue moved into Eddie’s mouth, snapping Eddie back into reality. He hastily pushed away, falling back onto the tile floor. 

The merman let out a gasp, as if he was gasping for air. His breaths became quick as he held onto the side of the bathtub. “OH THANK GOD! I Don’t know how much longer I could’ve kept that shit up…” He was breathless, but still, he spoke.

Word Count: 7604

Guys when I tell you I loved writing this chapter, I mean it. Literally, that ending scene? I’ve had it planned since the day I came up with the idea for the AU, and I’m ecstatic that I finally get to show it to the world. So I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I did. 

Don’t forget to comment, like and reblog to show your support!

And until next time, 

So Long and Goodnight.

~

[Taglist]

@richietoaster @s-onora @that-weird-girl-blog @beproudtozier @ghostnebula @bellarosewrites @s-s-georgie @lermanslogan @iamcupcakefrosting @madidraw @gazebobullshit @thoughtfullyyoungduck @aangzukos @ambitiousskychild @reddieonwheels @breadheadscorpius @opinions-you-didnt-ask-for

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

[rjzimmerman]

Update on our son

After you read this (if you do), you might ask: why is he doing this post and why is playing Tumblr right now? To get away, to get a break, to escape the sadness and grief and regret. Again, to get a break.

Those of you who follow me, or once in a while read my posts, perhaps recall that our son has been courageously and painfully moving along to retain his transplanted liver and protect his life. He had a liver transplant on December 10, 2019. That liver failed on January 16, 2020, when its vascular system was determined to be so compromised by his surgeons to effectively consider his transplanted liver nonfunctioning. His care team found a second liver, which was transplanted into him on January 17, 2020. During that surgery, he almost died (or perhaps did, and was pulled back to this side) because of extreme blood loss (50 liters were transfused into him). Since then, for five months, he has been subjected to scores of procedures to fix broken or non-functioning internal bits and pieces and invasive diagnostic tests to make sure all was progressing, or not.

He has finally conceded defeat. He can’t take the pain and disability any longer, and does not see a clear path ahead of him for a productive, happy life. As a consequence, he requested that all the tubes and portals and pokes be removed, and that he be transferred to the medical center’s hospice unit to die. He was transferred yesterday. He is on now on the path toward his death, which won’t take long, perhaps a week.

The coronavirus pandemic and the lock-down by most hospitals in the US barred visitors not just to COVID-19 patients, but all patients, including those such as our son. As a consequence, he has not had any visits from family or friends since March 12, 2020, other then three short one-hour visits from his mom. The absence of support from family during this critical phase of his recovery may not be the cause of his death, when that happens, but the absence deprived him of the things we all did for him: moving his arms and legs, cheating and bringing him nutrition (such as blueberry muffins) when the kangaroo bags were providing him with basic crap through IV’s, encouraging him to hang in there, bringing him stuff to do, reading with and to him, talking sports and politics....basically, keeping him active, alive and a member of his various tribes. A couple of weeks ago, he told us, “I can’t do this alone anymore.” I contend, as do several (if not all) of his doctors and nurses, that the visit block directly contributed to the inability of his body to recover and his willingness to continue living.

Which gets me to the real purpose of this post. I dislike the stay-at-home orders and other pesty parts of the pandemic controls. I hate wearing face masks. (I skipped masks at halloween trick-or-treating.) I think it’s insane that I can shop at Walmart but not at the little mom-and-pop store in central business districts. I get really pissed off when I see runners and bicyclists, alone, wearing face masks. But I keep all that to myself, as part of my personal attitudes about convenience and living life as I have always lived life. I accept these restrictions as necessary to restrict the spread of this horrid virus and tamp down the number of people who get sick or die. That is part of my social compact to each of you.

This is addressed to those you who might be republican politicians, or you selfish prima-donnas who want to roast your skin at the beach or play beach volleyball in the sun or who want a pedicure or feel entitled to ignore rules designed to protect me and you, or you who don’t understand the idea that your rights end where my nose begins. Fuck you. My son may not be a COVID-19 patient, but he will be just as dead as a COVID-19 patient who succumbs to the virus, and partially because he couldn’t be around his family when he most needed his family. Thousands of people who will die, and their families, are in the same situation all over the country, so our son and our family members and our son’s friends not alone. Why is this? Because of implementation of rules and policies designed to protect you and your kids and your mom and dad and spouse and grandparents also kept away our son’s family and friends’ support structure. Think of that before you start throwing around concepts such as your constitutional rights. You make me want to puke, if not worse.

[arthurwilde]

Untitled Rust/Marty fic (will most likely post it on AO3 when I get a title), for @twobrokenwyngs, she’s not on tumblr anymore but credit to @inkandcayenne for our conversation on Insufferable Survivalist Rust

Marty isn’t sure what he expected from living with Rust, but somehow the endless stepping on screwdrivers wasn’t it.

He’d known Rust would come with…quirks. Christ, between what he’d seen of how that man lived and the shitshow that his life had become in the past few years, nothing would have shocked him. Too much time alone made an already crazy man absolutely batshit, he figured. Rust was a lunatic. He’d half expected the man to sleep upside down like a fucking bat.

Rust didn’t sleep upside down like a bat, but he was a pain in the ass, albeit a more helpful one than Marty’d had reason to expect. It’s not uncommon to come home to see Rust with a knitting needle, furiously darning one of Marty’s old sweaters that he’d intended to throw away due to the holes in it. (He’d made a “little woman” joke exactly once, and Rust had fixed him with an absolutely withering stare and delivered a speech so blistering that it made Marty want to crawl into a hole and die; he couldn’t follow a lot of it but he was pretty sure Rust had verbally ripped his dick off, so he shut up after that, no matter how ridiculous Rust looked in Marty’s old armchair with his giant knitting needle, brows furrowed and his mustache hanging down over the bottom half of his face, like some hangdog old granny.)

“Hey Rust,” he calls as he comes in. “I wanted to try out that new burger place. I know I’m, uh, off the red meat, but I think they’ve got turkey burgers that should be somewhat acceptable - Rust, man, what the fuck are you doing.”

“I’m fixing your VCR, Marty,” Rust says. He’s on his hands and knees in front of the TV, and his voice is muffled by the - Jesus Christ - screw between his teeth.

“We don’t need a fuckin’ VCR, Rust, it’s 2014. Where the hell did you even find that thing?”

“Marty,” Rust drawls, so fucking slow, like Marty’s name is about five syllables long. “You’re home.”

“Yeah, great fuckin’ observation,” Marty grumbles, making for the couch before seeing the mess, giving up and collapsing at the rickety kitchen table instead. “That’s a great observation, Rust, did your special detective skills teach you that?”

“Taught me more than you,” Rust says. At least Marty thinks that’s what he says; his voice is more or less muffled from his head being half under the TV.

“What use,” Marty sighs, “do we have for a VCR? Everything’s - you know, everything’s streaming now, Rust. We get Netflix on that thing - “

“After Maggie showed you how to use it,” Rust supplies. Marty’s seriously considering kicking him straight in the ass. He’d never see it coming.

“Yes, thank you very much, that’s a very important detail.” Marty sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Is there some reason that you feel the need to keep this outdated technology in our house? Or that you take over the entire goddamned living room - “

“Nothing’s outdated, Marty,” Rust says. “Your concept of time is limited. I don’t know why I expected anything else from you.”

“Oh, now I know you’re full of shit.”

Marty can’t see Rust’s face, but he’s smirking. He just knows it.

“I mean, the socks are one thing, Rust - “

“There you go with the socks again, Marty,” Rust says. He actually sounds disappointed. Fuckin’ asshole.

“People throw away socks when they get holes in them, Rust. It’s what people do. Normal people get holes in their socks, they throw them away, they pick up another pair from Walmart. No one bothers to knit their socks, or make their own hand towels - “

“Well, I’m sorry you grew up with that sense of privilege. Must have been very convenient for you not to learn any sort of skill - “

“Oh, for Chrissakes - “

“To actually keep yourself alive and functional without the aid of mass consumerism, to worship at the American capitalist ideals that keep men in the 21st century from taking responsibility for themselves and their place in the world - “

“Yes, I’m sorry my parents shopped at stores like normal people, not all of us grew up in the goddamn Alaskan wilderness - “

“Maybe you should have, Marty, you’d be a lot less useless, not to mention you might have made some progress on your outdated sense of gender roles - “

“Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk,” Marty sighs.

“At least I’m striving to not be part of the problem, which is more than I can say for you.”

“Yes, you’re a regular saint, and you walked to school every day through ten feet of snow, in your old shoes and a jacket you made from, from the deer you skinned yourself, ten miles and uphill both ways - “

“Not both ways,” Rust says, and Marty’s 80 - no, 90% sure that he’s smiling, just a little, with the corner of his mouth.

“Oh fine,” Marty sighs, getting to his feet, “fine, go electrocute yourself fixing somethin’ we’re never gonna use, see if I care - “

“Marty,” Rust says, loud enough that he actually stops for a moment. He still hasn’t looked up. “Extra hot sauce on my burger.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Shit always gives you heartburn, but fine.”

“And no tomatoes.”

“I know, Rust,” he sighs, grabbing his coat as he walks out the door. Like he’d forget.

[butheknewellenough]

tumblr is just a silly, stupid place, it’s literally not real. HOWEVER!!! i have also met a lot of really cool people through this website that have really helped and supported me this year. starting college was pretty hard, but you guys helped me feel less lonely, and i’m really grateful for that. happy new year and new decade. i hope it brings peace, happiness, and prosperity to every single one of you.

i am extremely terrified to forget anyone as i make this post. if i forgot you, know that i will be ashamed of myself for the rest of time.

the lovey gc (@lovedpants, @girlalmightys, @wallsalbum, @sapphicau, @sweaterpawslou, @rendezlou, @missyoulive, @parislarry, @l0veontour, @baby-blue-28, @donckasters, @rosepetallarrie, @lightsuplarry, @sunlightbi, @louisharry, @snflwrgirly, @thesparklemoji, @wtrmlnsugr, @adoreyousummerskies, @snowyswift): i talk to you guys all the time and i really do feel like i can say anything without being judged. i am so appreciative of how supportive and open and LOVING everyone is!! i truly love and appreciate every single one of you and can’t wait to continue getting to know you guys. (special shoutout to leah for my url and maggie for being my secret santa and liz for teaching my sibling how to make a carrd and lauren for making the header for this) <3

atl louies (@peacheslou, @was2011louisevenreal, @styleandsin, @hrrystylesbian, @peculiarsunflower, @wtrmlnsugr, @louis-tomlinson-af, @onehome, @summerstars28, @sships, @lovetourhl, @dnpdab): baby’s first gc (and by this i mean first one that i made)!! i got so lucky with you all because you’re all so amazing and kind and lovely!!! i know i’m not always super talkative in there, but like you guys always make me laugh. i love how we can roast each other, and also how everyone is engaged to each other. a gc of love and laughs!! i sound so cheesy lmao, but i just don’t care. can’t wait to hang out with y’all when we see LOUIS this summer!!

em (@was2011louisevenreal) you get your own section for driving me to fucking nashville. we’ve also known each other for a long ass time, even if we didn’t start talking until recently. you are so selfless and kind and i am blessed to have you in my life!! you are also so funny and i just love spending time with you, whether it be eating mexican food or shopping at walmart on black friday (on accident). love you!!

madie (@peacheslou) you get your own section because of the jristmas memories. my fellow mika lover, my fellow Baby. you are gorgeous inside and out. you are hilarious and talented and smart. i’m lucky to be your friend!! i love you!!

nashville larries: i hope i don't lose anyone, but there were like. a lot of us so! @rbbsbb, @thepeacering, @theparisinterview, @darlingprincesspark thank you for letting me stay up late talking to you guys in your room. thank you for letting me squeeze into your table at the pizza place (even if it put us in the danger zone when that girl vomited...). i loved talking to and getting to know you guys!! and thank you to everyone else who made squeezing into an airbnb like sardines and waiting on the rainy street for hours fun! worth it to see louis and give him the rainbow barri-gayde he deserves! (and special shoutout to gina for giving so many people louis tats on the way there. you are such a badass and also one of the nicest people i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting) (@hogwartzlou, @velvetsau, @queenbeeharry, @subversivelwt, @cheerleaderharry, @tomlinshires, @alwayseroda, @styleandsin, @pterodicktyl, @definegirlfriends) 

the goldfinch gc (@sweaterxo, @charioteer, @weltonreject, @tragedygirls, @sloppy-bitch-richie, @thenewgothicromance): we are small but mighty. i look forward to future discussions about songs that apply to boreo (and will make me cry) and boris’ slutty, slutty boots. (popchyk forever) <3

skam larries, summer wlw, girls be sexy sometimes, larrie reading club, and bby larries: these gcs may not be as active anymore (or i am not as active in them), but i still appreciate every one of you that i’ve ever talked to you! you are all so lovely and have all made an impact on me!! thank you for that. you are all still very near and dear to my heart!! (@wallsau, @tothe-rain, @atonedirection, @rockingshowlarry, @angelharry, @leedsau, @ot5era, @coalarry, @fondnosescrunch, @heartoutlouis, @goldenkissy, @oioilarrie, @gr8-pot8, @adoreyouhalsey, @holizays, @goldensunflowerera, @harryspdf, @earthyemo, @defencelesslouie, @stormtrooperharry, @shrutishalo, @thehltour, @loudalbum, @alwaysyoump3, @perfectdahling, @embracinglarry)

the burn tables/the lovers club (@softer-boi, @pattyuris, @teasingtozier, @ladybirds2017, @kuninkaanmies, @reddieways, @richiesmp3, @marsisaplanetyall, @jortsbian, @appojoos, @pathetiic-fallacy, @shojobro, @blood-stricken, @itsumoghoul, @taco-belle-of-the-ball, @punkwyrm, @realstephenking, @peachbotttom, @cvirus, @marblejellyfish, @waggledaggle, @pramcine, @vipertooth): baby’s first discord server. i didn't know that i was going to get sucked into the homophobic clown movie, yet here i am! and i’m so lucky to have you guys to talk about it with! you are all so nice and funny and beautiful and creative and supportive!! i’m so happy to be hanging out with and getting to know you guys!!

@cherrysunflwr, @womanstan, @flowers-and-louis, @moonscanyon, @svpportive, @lovedangel, @caroussell, @loverpiano, @apoiios @lightwoodsmagic  we’re not in any gcs together, but i love talking to all of you!!! you are all so beautiful and lovely, and even if we’ve only had like one conversation, i hold it close to my heart!! you are all special, wonderful people and i look forward to getting to know you more in the new year.

and now for the rest of my mutuals!! tagging all of you would take a million years, and i,,,, have stuff to do today. i don't know how people do it. is there a secret that i don't know? or do y’all just have the patience to go through your list of followers, type them all out, and organize them alphabetically? but anyway, just know that if we’re mutuals on here, you have positively impacted my life and i consider us friends. feel free to message me any time!! if there’s one good thing that can come out of this hell website, it’s friendship (and what a perfect cheesy sentence to end this long ass post!). happy new year, everyone!! <3

[cockbiteproductions]

all prime numbers in the Misc section and all multiples of 10 in the other sections

we shall go backwards as the question list was posted backwards...... (and also why i rbed it.... why is it backwards? i dont know but i love it. edit: now that ive seen question 1 it looks to me like one of those forum profile copy pastes where you fill out the entire thing and put it in your profile.)

200: My crush’s name is: hmm...... well. i would rather not say!!!! they could see this post!!!!!!! and we do not want that happening.......

190: My 1st job was: lifeguard in the summer after 9th or 10th grade i think? it was decently fun. i grew up swimming competitively so the swimming part was a breeze. the remembering what to do if someone is drowning part? a bit harder. memory bad. what to do if someone has a potential broken spine/head injury when they’re in deep water? i don’t know bud. but it involves 3 whole people to get them out. 2 in the water, one person at all times holding their head in line with the rest of their body, the other one strapping them to the board (these two people in the water switch off, too) and then one person standing on the side of the pool looking very concerned. also don’t tell anyone but sometimes if i had like a 6 am shift i would get really groggy and almost fall asleep on the stand.

180: Marriage is: whatever people make of it but unfortunately bogged down with like a lot of societal expectations. to me it just sounds like hanging with your “best” friend until you die but a lot of other people interpret it differently.

170: What did you do yesterday? LOL wouldn’t it be nice if i remembered. wait no i do remember. i woke up “early” and watched a dnd livestream and struggled through buffering from my shit wifi. then i took a nap. then i had a chipotle burrito that was way too spicy. and i played a lot of minecraft. and i wrote a bit. and i also did like another 2-3 pages of the codecademy html intro course im working on.

160: Soul mates: nope. [taylor mason voice] i don’t believe in the concept of a soul. you are compatible with some people more than others and that’s based on your values and interests and personality. nothing Soul about it. it’s fun in fanfic and fiction though, but that’s because it’s fiction.

150: Blondes or Brunettes: brunettes..... i like brown hair! but blonde is nice too.

140: Mac or PC: clown face emoji. mac. It’s A Unix System. more convenient for me. my current mac is a giant piece of shit though. though i think that’s my own fault for keeping all my old files from my old mac. shoulda started over. i think i might try to get this one factory reset or something.

130: Wal-Mart or Target: idk walmart. i go there a lot during college. walmart just has a larger selection. i used to go to target a lot as a kid though because my mom liked it more. i think it’s like slightly more bougie?

120: Gay Marriage: fuckin go for it pals. sad that it took as long as it did to become legal.

110: My Neighbors: they are nice i think. the ones to the right are teachers or something. the ones to the left are.... idk. their kids were like maybe 5 years older than me and my brother when we were growing up though and sometimes they would indulge in us tiny annoying kids and hang with us

100: Cried in front of someone: when the finale of the clone wars came out a few months ago and i was sobbing and i ran into the living room to tell my roommate and friend that i was sobbing. i was sobbing. i also recorded myself watching the entire eps and i Sure Was Sobbing.

90: Texted: actual sms text, yesterday in response to a friend who texted me a tik tok. instant messaging like 20 minutes ago to milo. i havent responded yet because im answering this and i cant multitask for shit.

89: Who makes you laugh the most: me obviously. i think i’m fucking hilarious. me aside, @redvsblue​ is the funniest person on this planet. also my friend holly irl who shares my incredibly dumb sense of humor. also you!

83: The most difficult thing to do is: hmm........ in general or for me personally? idk..... a lot? i am not a very courageous person. so i guess being brave.

79: First time you had a crush: >:( not appreciating this line of questioning that lines up with the prime numbers/mult of 10. i will not be saying as they ALSO follow me on tumblr. though they don’t use it often. shout out to middle school.......

73: Tomorrow: hopefully wake up around 1 pm at the latest. make a plum smoothie. play some more minecraft and get more netherite (new update slaps). do more coding tutorials. get some writing done. the same ol same ol.

71: Next Summer: hopefully i will have a job lined up for the fall and the pandemic is Over. i would like to just [do nothing] for the last summer Ever before job starts. if i don’t have a job then it’s Job Hunting Time.

67: The person that makes me cry the most is: what the fuck...... like in a bad way? good way? cry of laughter? sadness? me, probably. my own damn brain be like “well it’s time to think about Yourself and be sad!” i know. very narcissistic of me. also dave filoni (director, producer, writer on clone wars).

61: My Car: not really mine. i just use it. beige 201? toyota camery. my brother tried to convince my dad he needed it more than i did last school year. my brother, who lived on campus in boston and flies to school from nc when he goes there, needs the car more than me, who lived off campus and drove to and from school to get back to nc, thinks he needed the car more than me. what a guy.

59: The movie I cried at was: last movie huh......... when was the last time i saw a movie? idk probably the rise of skywalker when leia died. i don’t know. i sure as hell didn’t cry at cats.

53: How do you like your steak cooked: i am vegetarian.

47: Who’s your best friend: @worthyghouls​ i guess. but also concept of “best friend” is so weird. No Best Friends. just lots of people i am good friends with. feels weird to all my other friends to pick One of them and be like “well i like you more than everyone else” :)

43: Do you have a 5 year plan: only in the vaguest vaguest vaguest sense. i would like to graduate with my bs degree. i would like to live in a city (doesn’t have to be a super big one. where im at rn is fine). i would like to have my first or second job i feel comfortable doing related to the degree i am getting. i would like to live in my own apartment (with roommates)/not with my parents. i would like to not be rent burdened. i would like my roommate to know how to take care of a cat or be okay with helping me learn how to take care of one. i would like to have a cat with said roommate. and that’s about it tbh. not very ambitious, i know. i just want a simple life......

41: Have you pre-named your children: bold of you to assume i will have children. no. if i ended up with child it would be like that tag on ao3 called “accidental baby acquisition” and i would name it on the spot.

30: Actress: hmm..... lauren marcus. lauren lopez. does fiona nova count if she’s going to be in rvb zero? also lindsay jones. aubrey plaza. idk. not many actresses i follow from project to project. it’s more i will see them in something and appreciate them in that role immensely. 

20: Holiday: halloween is pretty chill. just getting candy from strangers? dope. scary aesthetic? amazing. i also like christmas just for the sole fact that i get time off from [life].

10: Restaurant: a favorite restaurant??? who has one of those???? i sure don’t. and i’m not gonna say something cringey like olive garden or mcdonalds. i simply do not have one.

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

California’s Living Dead

PART TWENTY-ONE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: some smoking, a bit more angst here fellas, plentiful pop culture references, the original post of this got deleted somehow so I’m reposting it sorry guys idk anything about tumblr or anything really

Word Count: 4.6K

Summary: Half a year passes for Ella and Jess.

The key zipped back and forth across the chain of Ella’s necklace, clutched in her shaky hands. Cloudy afternoon light shone down on her, gray and gloomy. Cool, humid breezes blew past her, and she knew a thunderstorm was coming. As she trudged into the diner, she made a pointed effort to stare down at her converse. A Sunday afternoon lull left the place less crowded than it would have been were she scheduled for the morning. Instead, she had woken up with a headache and an urge to call Luke’s, but decided against it. She knew Jess wouldn’t be able to hide the cut on his cheek or the bruising on his jaw from his uncle. If anyone picked up, it was bound to be in the middle of an argument, and she didn’t need any more reason to bite her nails until they bled.

Slipping behind the counter, she noticed the way Luke’s eyes widened at the sight of her. As though he hadn’t been expecting her to show up. Salty air hung around them as Caesar fried up some burgers in the back, a sizzling hiss in everyones’ ears. Tying her apron around her hips, she frowned at him and furrowed her brows.

“Something wrong?” she asked flatly.

“Did you know about Jess?” Luke crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head at her.

Ella shrugged, unsure of whether the cat had yet been fully let out of the bag. “What about him?”

Sighing heavily, Luke brushed past her and gestured for her to follow him into the stock room. Rolling her eyes at his dramatics, she went with him. Apparently it couldn’t just be another day at the office. She wondered in the back of her mind where Jess was, but knew it was more than likely he was off somewhere with his nose back in Dead Souls, or escaping with another shift at Walmart. Biding time before he had to let Luke know what happened.

“I’m not stupid, Ella,” Luke said.

Nodding slowly, Ella bit the inside of her cheek and cast her eyes back down to her shoes. “I know. I know you’re not. Look, I didn’t know about school. He only told me last night, alright?”

“And did he tell you where he was planning on going?”

Immediately, she turned her head up to face him again. “What do you mean?”

“This morning, I got a call from Kyle’s parents, about Jess and Dean tearing up their place-”

“Dean sucker-punched him,” Ella interjected.

Luke rolled his eyes. “Nice excuse. I had to write the kid’s father a check! And Jess didn’t even apologize. Instead, he let me know he’s not graduating, and he’s not going back! And we had an agreement!”

Again, she nodded slowly, fiddling with her necklace. “I know. So...you kicked him out?”

“Not exactly. We hadn’t really talked it out all the way. I went out to get some stock, and an hour later, I come back and he’s just gone!” Luke exclaimed, exasperated.

“What do you mean gone?”

“All his stuff, I mean everything he could fit in that nasty duffel of his, he took it. No message, nothing!” Luke watched Ella’s expression fall and the color drain from her cheeks, and he immediately regretted letting all the information slip out in an angry rant the way he had.

Searching the room to focus on anything but Luke’s face, she shook her head to herself, attempting to conceal the way her stomach began doing anxious flips. No message, nothing. Overnight. Gone. “Well...did you know his dad was here? Would he try to go after him?”

Luke sighed again. “Yeah. I told him not to go near Jess, but-”

“You knew before Jess? You didn’t tell him his dad was here?” Ella interrupted, her voice growing tense.

“Look, Ella, it’s more complicated than that. I saw him here last Wednesday. I found his hotel, told him it’d be better to stay away. The guy’s a nobody-”

“Yeah, well, he’s a nobody Jess has been waiting to meet his whole life!” In all her time knowing Luke, Ella had never yelled at him. Not that he was a stranger to her temper. He’d seen it directed at rude customers, mainly Taylor, many times. But never had he faced the fire in her eyes, or the crestfallen look she had. She swallowed thickly. “Jesus. I mean...last night he seemed upset, but not enough to think his father was worth going after. Fuck!”

Soon, she was mostly speaking to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. Luke softened his gaze and ran his nervous palms over his flannel. He brought a hand to Ella’s shoulder so she would meet his eyes again.

“Ella, Jess is an adult. He has to make his own choices. I know it’s frustrating-”

She scoffed bitterly. “That’s one word for it.”

“But there’s nothing we can do. We have to just...let him go.”

Teeth clenching down on the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste coppery blood, Ella shook her head again. “Serves me right.”

“Wait here,” Luke said tiredly, disappearing back into the main room.

Confusion painted Ella’s features for more reasons than one. A cold stone of sadness sat heavily in her stomach. It was a fight. A fight she thought they would apologize to each other for eventually, and then get past. She’d truly thought Luke would find a way to let Jess stay, or at least to look after him while he floated around in his new high school dropout reality. Instead, Jess had taken it into his own hands. Cut and run. But she had to give him credit; it was the most decisive move she’d ever seen him make. Worry flooded her mind. Jess was tough, but tough enough to brave the world alone? With a father he knew nothing about? How bad was the guy anyway? Leaving his son when an infant certainly didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in his character. Tears stung in her eyes, but she shook them off as Luke returned.

“He, uh…” Luke began, holding a worn book and a CD out to her, “This had a little sticky note on it. Just said ‘Ella.’ I’m gonna assume they’re yours, I know you guys share...everything.”

As soon as she took them in her hands, Luke left the room, figuring she would need a moment. With the look she had on her face, he doubted she would be back to work for the rest of the day. Her heart skipped when she saw the CD: Turn on the Bright Lights by Interpol. She tried to stop the way her jaw tensed with anger, and her stomach swirled with nostalgia. The book was hers. The last one she had loaned him. She still had one of his Faulkners sitting on her nightstand, halfway finished. Apparently, he wasn’t eager to have it back. Flipping through her beloved copy of To the Lighthouse (she knew it was cliché, but she always considered it Woolf’s best work), she noticed how his notes stopped with only twenty pages left. She was about ready to throw the book across the room, seeing the inconsequential comments and questions he’d written, when she saw a block of his spiky handwriting on the last page:

Eleanor,

I won’t get a chance to finish, but I really liked this. I remember once you told me it was your favorite book of all time, and I have to admit I didn’t think it would live up to the hype. But it did. Lily Briscoe reminds me of you. A badass artist who doesn’t need anyone. I figured you would want this back, since you love it so much.

-Jess

Blowing out a furious breath, Ella blinked back tears for a second time and focused on the anger brewing within her. It was easier than the sadness. She refused to have her heart broken over him. Love didn’t exist. Why be surprised when the universe proves it again and again? Ignoring Luke’s questioning looks, she went out and shoved the CD and book into her bag by the door. The rest of her shift, she spoke in clipped tones and tugged in annoyance at the loose strands of her hair. And Luke decided it was better. They could both be miserable, silently, together.

.   .   .

A late June morning found Ella back behind the counter, filling coffee cups and twirling around on her sore feet once again. Over the summer, she worked doubles whenever was humanly possible and spent her off nights sketching in the corner table. She tried to keep Jess from her mind, and though it was difficult while spending so much time at Luke’s, a stubbornness in her refused to let her relent. Though Jess was related to Luke by blood, Ella had worked there and been there for so much longer than Jess ever had. Him leaving wasn’t going to destroy her home away from home. She simply wouldn’t let it.

Lorelai and Rory were off on their European backpacking trip, and Lane was toiling away at Bible camp. Pathetic as it was, Ella simply didn’t have anyone to hang out with. She’d always only had a few close friends. Had Jess still been there, she could only imagine what they would spend their time doing. Curled together on his twin bed reading, or arguing about what they were reading, playing cards in her room with Jeff Buckley on the record player, making out to Interpol albums, lunches at the lake, shifts together day in and day out. There had been plans. But she shook them from her brain and got back to work, blowing loose locks away from her face and yelling orders back to Caesar as they came in. Luke was on register, trademark scowl on full display. Soon, he would be away on a cruise with Nicole. Ella hoped it would lift his mood at least a little.

Though, it was a hypocritical thought. She certainly hadn’t been a ray of sunshine the past few weeks, even on her best days, even at graduation. For her speech, she’d read an Anne Sexton poem and connected it to life. She’d looked out at the crowd to see Lane, but not Rory. And not Jess. Her father had cried a little in pride, which surprised her, made her remember the man he had once been. Fiona had cheered and brought her flowers. Adam had smiled and given her a big hug afterwards. But, as much as she tried to revel in the relief and the happiness which surrounded her, there were pieces missing. Big pieces nothing could make up for. Not Jess, even. Her mother. The anniversary of her death had come and gone, and Ella couldn’t believe how long it had been. Time seemed so warped by death. Some days, she felt like she had seen her mother just yesterday. Other days, she thought it odd she had ever had a mother at all. Even Luke and Lorelai had come to watch her speech and cheer her on, but her own mother simply wasn’t there. She’d done her best the whole day to maintain a plastic smile, but that night, she sobbed quietly to Billie Holliday and sketched skeletons.

For just a moment, she took a breath. All the coffees were refilled, the orders were taken. She had no compulsory small talk left to make. She put the pot in the machine and began making a new batch. Leaning against the back counter, she crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. Across the street in the town square, they were setting up for some new, random festival. She could imagine Jess at her side, complaining about all the expensive, meaningless fanfare. A grinch who had been absent at prom, where she stood as a third wheel to Lane and Dave. The phone broke her out of her thoughts, and she went to answer it, but Luke beat her to the receiver.

“Luke’s,” he said flatly. But Ella watched his weary eyes widen in surprise. “Jess? Where are you?”

Instantly, Ella’s heart felt as though it would leap right out of her chest. She went over to stand near Luke, expression questioning. “Is that really Jess?” she asked in a whisper.

He glanced up at her but didn’t answer. “Really? Is he making you pay rent?...Well, be sure to never tell Liz that…”

Ella watched in excruciating anticipation, hearing snippets of the conversation, fragments she couldn’t exactly string together in a narrative. Was it really him? Over a month without a call, and she was beginning to think she would never hear his voice again.

Suddenly, Luke threw another glance Ella’s way, this time anxious. “Yeah, she did…”

“Give me the phone,” Ella said, holding her hand out.

“One second,” Luke muttered, then put his hand over the mouthpiece. “I don’t know if he-”

“I don’t care.” She hadn’t expected grabbing the phone from Luke to be so easy, but perhaps he was too surprised at her sudden movement to resist. Ella paid no mind to the curious eyes of onlookers as she began speaking in hushed, angry tones. “Jess?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I know it’s you, jackass. Where the hell are you?” she demanded.

Jess sighed heavily over the line. “Venice. I’m staying with my dad.”

“Really?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “That guy who walked right out of your life, twice now, without a second thought?”

“Look, Eleanor, it’s-”

“Don’t ‘Eleanor’ me,” she warned, shaking her head. “Actually, y’know what? I don’t care. I don’t give a fuck where you are. All I need you to do is let me know you’re alive. I don’t care how you are, who you’re with, anything. You just need to let me know, every once in a while, that you didn’t starve or end up lying in a ditch somewhere. Be a decent fucking human being, and let the girl with the dead mom know you’re alive.”

“Okay, I-”

“Glad we could sort that out,” she bit out, her tone absolutely venomous. Before he could say anything more, she shoved the phone back into Luke’s hands, and retreated into the stock room. For the rest of the day, Luke let her tear open the cardboard box shipments with an Exacto knife, her face with an ever-present flush as she worked.

.   .   .

Sat up in bed, Ella sketched the same rose over and over. She was reminded of Georgia O’Keefe, painting her door time and again. Mid-August breeze blew in for her open window, and her back leaned against the purple mural of a goddess she’d taken nearly two months to complete. Her eyes were heavier than they usually would be for eleven o’clock on a Friday. She’d finally completed her first week of classes. And it seemed about as tiring as high school had been. All her classes were interesting, and the radio played some pretty-sounding oldies during her drive back and forth from Hartford, but she was already dreading four more years of drudgery. What was the point of working so hard in high school just to have to go through the whole ordeal again?

Existentialist train of thought aside, she tried to let it fade from her mind, focusing only on her drawing. And the Stevies Nicks record playing. Without realizing it, she sang along with the words in hushed tones under her breath. Her damp waves fell over her shoulder, a comforting smell from her lavender shampoo. She’d wanted to shower in the morning, bright and early before she had to drive to math class. But it was also Adam’s first week of high school, and he’d taken much longer than necessary. Most of the time, they got along pretty well, bonding over a shared inclination towards campy ‘80s movies. But the mornings were an exception to the rule they could always count on. Admittedly, it was often Ella’s own fault. She had the tendency to morph into a grouchy monster right after waking.

She breathed a slow sigh as the phone began to ring, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Tossing her sketchbook to the side, she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hey, Eleanor.” Jess’s voice sounded much the same. It was odd to imagine him all the way across the country, a leather jacket city boy on a hot California beach.

“Still alive, I take it?” she asked.

“No, it’s Night of the Living Dead on the West Coast. Haven’t you seen it on the news?” he quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she let out another small sigh. “Goodbye.”

“Wait, Elle, I know you’re mad-”

She hung up before he could finish the sentence.

.   .   .

Eighteen years old. She was a legal adult but she didn’t quite believe it. Fiddling with her necklace, she laid on her huge mattress and stared up at the ceiling. There was a yellowed water stain on the popcorned white surface. Once in a blue moon, it would leak. The day brought torrential thunderstorms, perfect for a birthday, and she thought she may have felt a few droplets on her already-wet cheeks.

Fiona was trying; she really was. She always did. She’d made a cake and they’d sung her the song. But it simply wouldn’t be enjoyable until she got out of the house. Celebrating with her family just made her feel like she was in an episode of The Twilight Zone where they’d recast her mother. She was still attempting to make peace with Fiona, though. And if it made her stepmother happy, she was willing to endure an awkward hour of dinner.

She hadn’t allowed herself to start crying until she got in her room, saw the picture of her grandmother holding her mother as a baby in the old frame on her desk. So many dead women. And here she was, always getting older. Pearl Jam spun on the record player, but it did little to lift her spirits. She was examining the set of faux-ruby earrings Fiona and her father had given her, still in their small cardboard box, thinking about how red really wasn’t her color, when the phone ran. Sniffing harshly, she wiped at her cheeks though no one over the receiver would see her.

“Hello?”

“Happy eighteen, Stevens,” Jess’s voice spoke, making her immediately grimace. Almost exactly one year since they’d first kissed. “You go out to legally buy your porn and cigarettes yet?”

“Fuck off, Jess,” she murmured tiredly, shaking her head.

“Look, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, since-”

“Goodbye,” she deadpanned, slamming the phone down and flopping back heavily against her pillows.

.   .   .

Her history textbook was still open on her desk, and moonlight streamed into her small room. A long evening of studying had seen her call it quits right in the middle of a chapter. She’d collapsed in bed dressed in her jeans and thick sweater, chilled even inside from the October draught. A throb pulsed behind her eyes for what felt like forever before she finally drifted off to sleep. Her eyes were hot inside her skull, achy and dry, when the phone’s ring split through the silence of the night. Clearing her throat, she rolled over in the darkness.

“Hello?” she said groggily.

“Jeez, I thought you laid off the smokes.”

She rolled her eyes at the sound of Jess’s voice, she cleared her throat again and sat up against the mural. “Shut up, jackass, you woke me up.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Still alive?” she asked.

“Seems that way,” he said. It pained her to hear the smirk on his face.

“Well, that’s the goal,” she snarked in a clipped tone before hanging up. As she tried to drift back into dreams, she fiddled with her necklace, tossed and turned.

.   .   .

She chewed on her eraser, brows furrowed as she read over the same sentence in Paradise Lost for what felt like the millionth time. Mostly, she’d been having fun in her English class. But biblical themes had never been her forté, and a poem which spent so much time recounting the story of Adam and Eve made her want to do nothing but roll her eyes. Her mother had been Christian, though they never went to Church. And she’d heard her father occasionally refer to God or say her mother was in Heaven. But if Ella wasn’t going to believe in luck or love, she certainly wasn’t going to believe in any higher power. None of the religions she’d ever encountered or read about struck her fancy even a little.

The phone rang, and it was almost a welcome break, despite such a sudden interruption. Blinking the dryness from her eyes, she got up from her desk and tucked her hair, falling into her field of vision as she read, behind her ears. She sat cross-legged in the center of her mattress as she picked up, wrapping the phone cord around her fingers absently as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Jess answered simply.

She furrowed her brows, glanced over at her small bedside clock. Only four in the afternoon. As much as she wanted to snap angrily and immediately hang up as she had for the past five months, the change in pattern piqued her curiosity too much. And there was something in his voice which felt off to her. “Little early for you, isn't it, Mariano? It should barely be afternoon there.”

“Oh, we’re talking now?” he asked pointedly.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, jackass,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But, fuck it. I’ll go. Leave you to your new dazzling West Coast existence.”

He sighed heavily. “Fine. Sorry. I’m just sick. I thought about going to work but then my Exorcist reenactment got in the way. Something I ate.”

“Hm. California food not exactly up to Connecticut health codes?” she asked.

Jess scoffed. “Like Connecticut can talk. Al’s Pancake World much?”

Ella snorted a chuckle. “Fair enough.” Then, after a moment: “Well, just make sure to drink water. You never drink enough water when you’re sick. Rookie mistake.”

“You’re not exactly one to talk,” he countered.

“What does that mean?” she asked in mock offense.

His tone was joking, but almost nostalgic. “Do you not remember the time you had laryngitis? You tried to come to work! Luke made me drag you upstairs the minute he saw you.”

“I still could’ve been on dish pit or something,” she said defensively. “Besides, that day I finally got you to watch Silence of the Lambs. Not exactly a waste of time.”

“That was a good movie.”

“Good book, too. But the movie was better.”

“Blasphemy!” Jess gasped.

Ella laughed quietly, but was suddenly acutely aware of the distance between them. He wasn’t a two-minute walk away. And she wouldn’t see him on her shift the following day. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Well, I should go. Gotta finish this section of Paradise Lost.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Jess quipped. She’d said the title in an agitated mutter.

“It’s excruciating.”

“Huh. Thought you’d go crazy for college poetry, even seventeenth-century religious stuff.”

Ella scoffed doubtfully. “Milton couldn’t hold a candle to Dickinson.”

“Strong words,” he said.

“Well, that’s the best kind,” she smirked, then bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself. “Anyway...feel better, Jess.”

“Thanks.”

.   .   .

Lights of red, green, and yellow flashed outside her window, hanging from the gutters of the small blue house. Icy, crunchy snow caked the Connecticut roads, new flurries coming down in sheets. Joni Mitchell’s “River” crooned from the record player, and Ella was warm beneath her blankets. Pencil in her hand, she underlined and boxed in phrases from her new copy of Adrienne Rich poems. She and Rory, back from Yale, had been to the bookstore the day after Christmas, when everything was marked down to clearance. She missed those lazy days together with her old friends.

Breathing the lavender scent of her candles, she felt content but dreaded the end of the holiday break. Rory would leave again, and Ella would have to go back to the monotony of college life. At least, now, Lane had quit her Christian college upon her mother’s discovery of her secret life. She was looking for a place to live with her band, and Ella was glad she’d have her friend still near her, living on her own terms. Ella didn’t hate Mrs. Kim, but knew Lane would never be truly happy unless she was out from under her mother’s thumb.

The phone sounded over the music, and Ella knew who it would be before she picked it up. Jess had been calling more often lately, ever since he’d gotten over his food poisoning. He told her he’d never eat another piece of sushi again. She didn’t exactly know the reason for the increase. Perhaps he finally got a cell phone, could call her wherever he was. If he had, she could only imagine the struggle it must have been for him. He was definitely on Luke’s side of the handheld phone debate. Somehow, a shift had occurred. Small. But it had happened. Though their conversations weren’t exactly substantive, she felt a little less upset each time they spoke, anger slowly cooling after all their time apart. The pleasant memories were coming back to her more easily, as soon as she let him get a few words in. She still couldn’t help feeling betrayed, but at least he kept up his end of the deal. He barely went more than two weeks anymore without letting her know he was still on the face of the Earth.

She sighed softly. “Hello?”

“Hey, Eleanor,” he said. “Has all the noise, noise, noise finally ceased?”

She shook her head. “Mostly. Luke was in an even worse mood than he usually is on Christmas. The divorce and all.”

Jess snorted a laugh. “My god, I’m glad that whole bizarro thing is over.”

“You haven’t been here. You don’t know the half of it,” she smirked, thinking back to Luke’s odd marriage to his lawyer. The back and forth, to divorce or not to divorce, made everyone who was watching dizzy. She heard Jess inhale sharply, familiar to ear. “Are you smoking?”

“Who are you? Nancy Drew?” he shot back.

“I asked you first.”

“Depends. Have you been biting your nails?”

Ella scoffed self-consciously. “Those two habits are not comparable at all. But touché.” She cast a glance out the window when the branches of the oak tree scraped up against the pane. “Jesus. It won’t stop snowing here.”

“Yeah. Here, too,” he said off-handedly.

Brows furrowing, Ella let a confused chuckle escape her lips. “In Venice Beach? Climate change is hitting pretty hard out there, huh?”

A pause sounded over the receiver, a slight crackling in between them.

“Actually...I’m in New York.”

She hesitated, blinking twice to process the information before she spoke again. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Things uh...things didn’t work out with Jimmy,” he admitted sheepishly.

Blowing out a long breath, she bit the inside of her cheek. “Jesus, Jess, I’m sorry.”

“You can say it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me so.”

Shaking her head to herself again, Ella rolled the phone cord in her fingertips. “I’m not gonna say that. I just...I want you to have what you want. I don’t...I don’t want other people to fuck things up for you.”

He chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, well, I think I do a pretty good job of fucking things up on my own.”

“Jess-”

“Look, I gotta go. Work and stuff. So, yeah, still alive,” he said hastily.

“Okay. Just...be safe. Don’t get mugged or kidnapped or anything.”

Jess laughed again softly, more genuine this time. “I’ll try, Stevens. Don’t worry.”