#work/collage prep has been killing me

[echosoftheflower]

Okay, to kick off this “attempting to put all my ideas for IBVS online” rabbit hole, let's start with what I'm assuming is CK’s favorite theory of mine.

Rose Beamer has powers.

Now I don't really have much evidence supporting this yet but what I do have feels like some pretty good foreshadowing.

First, let's start off with the powers, we know they are genetic, potentially some kind of gene that is unlocked by adrenaline or some other fight or flight instinct. This is pretty obvious from the fact that everyone who has powers’ siblings have powers. Nevin and Drew, Edward and Geno, and even Edward and Dez are cousins (stated to be on his father’s side). So if siblings are likely to both get powers, then why don't any adults seem to have them? This could either be from them never being unlocked (like how Drew and Dez gained their powers much later on) or the gene potentially skipping generations. 

All of this is to say, that the chances of Rose having powers - or at least the potential for them - is much higher than it may first seem.

The second part of this is something that I've also noticed in Cody (but he is a theory for another day). We know a little too much about her. For a character that's gotten a total of two scenes, we have 1: A character ref,  2: A name, 3: Her job, 4: A pretty good read of her personality, and 5: Her dynamic with Isaac (caring and fun but often busy with work). 

I think she has the potential to become a bigger part of the story and would tie in well with bringing attention back to Isaac (our main character).

Speaking of Isaac, this is where the real powers part comes in. 

If Rose has powers, then what are they?

Well, we know that Isaac's main power is to bring drawings to life, but he also has a seemingly secondary power of being able to move specifically liquid art supplies at will.

And in IBVS there is one other time a person with liquid-based powers is mentioned, seemingly as a throwaway line

"Drew and Nevin both got to the point and opened up, and even their incredibly catholic grandmother, who could have been a hit or miss when it came to something like this, ended up just nodding and saying ‘oh, I knew a young lady like that about twenty years ago.’

She went into a longwinded story about the girl. About how, in her earlier years of trying to get work in the States, she needed to take an extra job at a daycare, and one of her fellow workers, a woman in her twenties, could create ripples in water like currents with her mind. While Drew was utterly thrilled at hearing this, Nevin was only surprised hearing this from his grandmother of all people.

Grandma Jovel proceeded to give the clarification that Nevin wanted to hear–she didn’t plan to tell anyone about them, due to the danger it could create for them.” (chapter 20 season 1)

Grandma Jovel knew a woman like that twenty years ago. If that lady was in her twenties then, then she would now be in her forties, the perfect age range for someone whose only child is currently 16. And also, the lady had minor water/liquid manipulation powers, a power that could easily be matched with Isaac's stronger-manipulation-but-less-materials-affected.

Grandma Jovel also mentioned that she wouldn't tell anyone, "due to the danger it could create for them," so she understands that people finding out they had powers might put them in danger. This could just be the general "we don't know how people would react" but it could also be that something happened to that lady, say, she goes missing.

This kind of branches out into an entirely new theory (and where I start losing evidence) but, Rose may have been one of the women in the lab. It's specified that the woman who wrote the letters in Ghost Stories worked there; however we don't know if it was as a volunteer or scientist, and she also mentioned how they weren't allowed to leave. We also know that the letter never left the lab. There is a chance that Rose worked there as a psychologist to try to understand how and why she has these powers. If these experiments are what I believe them to be (Mr. Wolfe and Xavier testing the supernatural gene to create Sigma) then it would explain why she would never tell Isaac about her powers or help him figure out if he had any, as she would know that people like Wolfe could come for either of them. 

This also goes into another theory about the potential of Isaac's natural powers actually only being the paint manipulation, and the creation part being the other half of Sigma reacting to it. But that's a whole other thing.

TLDR: Rose Beamer may be the lady we hear about from Grandma Jovel in chapter 20

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 31

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 30

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smoking, alcohol use, fluff, light crying, mentions of abuse, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, praise/degradation, anal fingering, squirting, mentions of various sexual activities, nightmares, mentions of harassment/assault, light angst

Word Count: 13.9k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 31.1: The Promise

Friday, August 25th, 1989

"Okay, he's pulling up the driveway now. Places, everyone!" Dustin calls from his spot at the window, he's been peeking through the curtains to watch Eddie pull up to your house. He scurries to his hiding place, behind the armchair in the corner of the living room. Mom, Wayne, the Hellfire kids, Chrissy, and all your other friends hide as best they can behind various pieces of furniture. It's a tight squeeze for most of them. They've had to resort to less desirable spots, like cowering under the shield of the kitchen island, or beneath the coffee table.

These last few weeks have been a whirlwind, to say the least. You've been absolutely swamped at work, as well as juggling trial prep and registering for your classes that are getting closer by the day. You've got an entirely full plate, with a huge dollop of Eddie plopped on top of all of it. The two of you have been doing very well at keeping distance when necessary, it's become the new normal for you. You still make plenty of time for one another, despite your busy schedule, but your shared existence has lessened significantly. As exhausting as it can be, you truly feel like an actual adult for once. Balancing work, life, and relationships. It's something you've always wanted to prove you can do. It's a real, tangible sign that you're all grown up now. And today, you take another big step towards completing the process.

Your various party guests murmur in excitement, but you frantically shush them. You peek through the peephole of the front door, watching your boyfriend kill the engine and hop out of the van. He's holding a large pink gift bag, and he's dressed a little nicer than usual. Black jeans, a red button-up shirt that's only half done with the sleeves rolled up, exposing a good portion of his chest and arms. He looks so handsome, and you can't wait to finally reveal this long-awaited surprise. Your heart pounds in excitement, watching like a hawk as he makes his way to the door. He knocks, and you quickly open it.

"Hey there, sweetheart. Happy anniversary." He smiles at you, pulling you in by the waist to give you a small kiss. He pulls away, taking in your own special outfit. It's a cute, red dress that barely reaches your knees, with spaghetti-thin straps that sit perfectly on your bare shoulders. You're wearing flats with them, simple, black, with little bows on the toes. You also put on some light makeup, baby pink lipstick and natural coverage. "You look gorgeous, Y/N." He compliments you, and you blush.

"And you're looking very handsome, Eddie." You pull back from his embrace, ushering him inside so you can close the door to keep the mosquitoes out. He goes to the counter to put the bag down, thankfully taking no notice of Steve and Robin crouching just a couple feet away.

"So, what do you have in store for me this time, hm?" He asks curiously, making his way back across the floor to you. Eddie boxes you in against the door, putting a hand against it beside your head. He gazes at you hungrily, wrongfully assuming you've got the house to yourselves. "More dirty pictures? Something new in bed?..." He trails off, lowering his head to kiss your neck. You don't reply, unsure how to diffuse this. You know everyone can see and hear him, and it's no doubt going to be a bit embarrassing when they all jump out in a minute. "Am I getting warm, sweetheart?" He asks teasingly, biting down on your throat. Shit, please don't fucking moan. Not in front of all your friends and family, you think to yourself. You grit your teeth to hold it in, struggling to form a sentence as Eddie's hand travels up your waist and toward your chest. You've got to stop this, before he gropes you in front of your own mother.

"W-what's the rush, Eddie?" You stutter, ducking under his arm to get away. His face scrunches in confusion, you never turn him down like this. "I thought maybe I could show you that surprise that I've been keeping such a secret?" You emphasize the word 'surprise', gesturing awkwardly with your hands in hopes that the others will take the damn hint. Mom pokes her head up a little, looking at you oddly. You slowly back away from Eddie and towards the couch, but he follows your every step. He probably thinks you're only playing hard to get.

"I have been wondering about that...but I think there's a certain present I'd like to open even more, angel." He chuckles darkly, looking you up and down.

"Are you sure you don't want your surprise first? It's something very special!" You repeat yourself, trying to subtly nudge your head at Mom. She finally mouths an understanding 'oh' at you, and ducks back down to quietly get the rest of the group on board. You make a mental note to never attempt this charade again, you've severely overestimated their capacity to stick to a fucking plan. You hope these assholes have been enjoying the show, because it ends now. Your ankles hit the edge of the couch in your avoidance of Eddie's charms, making you fall onto the cushion. He looms over you, a slight indent formed in his tight jeans.

"I can wait a little longer, princess. Besides, we're all alone...with the whole house to ourselves." He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip while staring at you lustfully. A mere second after those ironic words leave Eddie's lips, everyone pops out from their hiding places at the exact same time.

"SURPRISE!" They all shout, which scares the absolute shit out of Eddie. He screams at the top of his lungs, whipping around to see that essentially everyone he knows has heard him speak to you in such a vulgar way. His face immediately goes beet red, and he hides it in his hands in shock and embarrassment.

"Jesus christ!" Eddie groans into his palms. You wrap your arms around him, keeping him in place. You lean up to speak in his ear, unable to hold back a laugh at his expense.

"I really got you good, didn't I?" You cackle, your head falling against his shoulder. The others are laughing too, enjoying the mortified expression Eddie made. He lowers his hands after a minute, smiling despite his continued shame. He holds you close to him, and gazes around the room.

"Yeah, yeah. You got me." He waves them all off as they struggle to calm down, and looks at you again. "Fuck, a little warning would've been nice, babydoll."

"You know there's no fun in that, Eds." You retort, still giggling a little bit.

"Damn, Munson! It's no wonder Y/N loves you so much, when you talk like that!" Robin comments, cracking herself up even more.

"I swear, I didn't teach him a damn thing!" Wayne calls out, hoping to absolve himself of any responsibility as Eddie's father figure. The laughing only grows louder, though your own has died off completely at this point.

"Ugh, can you guys please stop? You have no idea how much I overhear in this damn house." Dustin whines while shaking his head in resignation. He holds back a gag at all the things he's unfortunately heard exchanged between his best friend and his sister.

"I second that, I've made enough of an ass out of myself as it is." Eddie chimes in, hoping everyone will move on sometime soon. He looks at you with pleading 'help me' eyes, and you nod in understanding. His randy behavior didn't exactly paint you in the greatest light, either.

"Alright, that's enough, you guys. I think it's about time I tell Eddie exactly what I've been keeping so close to the chest these last few months." You address your guests, calling an end to Eddie's humiliation. They nod in agreement, and take a minute to each find a seat. Mom, Dustin, Eddie, and yourself take the couch. Wayne sits in the armchair. Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy take the dining chairs, with JJ on Chrissy's lap. The rest sit on the floor, expressing no complaints.

Once everyone is settled, Mom leans over to whisper to you. "What was that earlier about pictures? Is that what you used my Polaroid camera for?" She asks, though you're unsure if she's angry or amused.

"It's nothing, Mom. Eddie was just messing around." You reply in an unconvincing tone.

"Uh-huh. Sure." She shakes her head, holding back a smile. It seems like just yesterday that she did the exact same thing for George at the beginning of their marriage.

"Anyway." You clear your throat, turning to face Eddie. Everyone goes quiet, and you take Eddie's hands in yours. He raises an eyebrow, wondering what you're going to say. "Eddie, we've been together for half a year now. And I know you fell for me really early on, as I did for you." You speak sweetly, which makes him smile. "So much so, that exactly one day before our one-month anniversary, Mom offered to pay for a couple months rent, so we could find a place together when we made it this far." You smile uncontrollably at finally being able to say these words to him. It's been so difficult to keep this all a secret, it's hard to keep anything from him at all. But the time is ultimately right, and you have everyone you love right here to support you. "What do you say, Eddie? You wanna move in with me?" You ask, feeling oddly emotional. Happy tears well up in your eyes, because you know deep within your heart what his answer is going to be.

"Of course I do, Y/N. I love you so much. There's no one else I could picture doing this with." Eddie says with a nod, gently cupping both sides of your face. He gazes tenderly into your eyes, before bringing you closer to kiss you passionately. Your lips meet, and everyone around you erupts in joyful cheers and applause. Tears fall down your cheeks, as well as his own. You melt into the kiss for a moment, gaining a collective ‘whoo’ from your guests.

"Okay, I think it's time for presents!" Mom pipes up, wiping a tear from her own eye. She gets up from the couch, going to the dining room table to retrieve the lovely gifts everyone has brought for you both. You don't even really care about the presents, you mainly organized all this to celebrate Eddie, and your undying love for him. It was Mom's idea to give you things to build your home with, which everyone jumped at the chance to do. They care for you and Eddie so much, you wonder every day how you got so lucky.

"Presents?" Eddie asks in confusion once you break your kiss.

"It was all them, Eds. I swear." You giggle, wiping the salty tracks from his face. He does the same for you, giving you another short peck. He can't help it, the fact that you've done all of this makes him want to shower you with affection.

"Dusty, you want to help me out here?" Mom calls to your brother.

"Sure thing, Mom." He gets up to assist her, as do Wayne and Steve. They manage to bring everything over in one trip, piling the presents in front of you on the carpet.

"Wow. Uh, thanks, guys." Eddie says, eyes boggling at the neatly wrapped items sitting at his feet. It feels like Christmas, or a birthday, or even an engagement party.

"Please, it's the least we could do!" Chrissy chirps, giving you both a warm smile. JJ babbles in her lap, the spitting image of his father.

"You wanna pick first, love? I dunno where to start." Eddie chuckles, getting a little overwhelmed by all this. It's not easy for him to have so much attention directed his way. He's been appreciative of almost every other celebration being kept between the two of you.

"Yeah. Let's do....this one." You pick up a bundle from the top, wrapped in pink tissue paper.

"That one's from me." Chrissy says, and JJ lets out a small laugh in agreement. He sure is a cute kid, with sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes.

You rip open the thin paper, revealing some cooking utensils. "Thanks, Chrissy! These are great!" You set them down in your lap, and Mom takes the paper from you to put in a trash bag she brought over. You look over at Eddie, nudging his shoulder. "Your turn, baby." You smile, which he returns.

"Right..." He looks over the pile for a moment, unsure of what to choose. He supposes it doesn't really matter, they'll all end up open at some point anyway. He picks up a red envelope sitting on top of one of the larger boxes, tearing open the seal. It's a card from Hopper and Joyce, with a certificate to Manny's Furniture Bonanza inside. The card itself reads:

Hey there, kiddos! Congrats on moving in together, we're so happy for you! We didn't know what you'd need, so hopefully the certificate will be helpful to you. We'll have to be there for the wedding *wink wink*, and we wish you the best of luck in building a home together. We can tell you make one another so happy, and you're one of those couples that will surely withstand the test of time.

Love, as always,

Joyce, Hop, and the kids

"Aw, that's so sweet." You say after reading the card over Eddie's shoulder.

"You'd better send them a thank you, Y/N." Claudia says, reminding you of the time-honored tradition of thanking older adults when they give you anything.

"I'm on it, Mom. I've been writing thank you cards since I was five." You roll your eyes at her insistence. You and Eddie take turns opening the rest of the gifts, kindly thanking everyone for their generosity. You receive a toaster from Mom, pots and pans from Wayne, bath towels from Dustin, a set of dishes from Steve, a coffee maker from Robin, some bedsheets from Nancy, and silverware from Lucas. You take a small break to gather up the wrapping paper again, having neglected to hand Mom the mess in your excitement. When you continue, you reveal a pair of dish towels from the twins, oven mitts from Erica, matching 'His' and 'Hers' coffee mugs from Max, and a very nice comforter set that your coworkers pooled money together on.

"Well, looks like that's everything. I'm assuming you two want to open your gifts to each other in private?" Mom says, chuckling impishly at her last statement.

"No, we can open them now." Eddie says, hopping off the couch excitedly to retrieve the bag he brought for you.

"Okay. I'll have to get yours from my room." You add, getting up from your seat and heading down the hall.

"Hurry back!" Eddie calls after you, making you smile. He's in a very good mood, the surprise cock-block notwithstanding. So are you, and you can't wait to give him his gifts. You love giving him things, he's very appreciative of everything you do for him. The way his eyes light up in admiration, the heart-melting kiss he gives you afterwards. Those little things make it all worthwhile. You pick up the wrapped gifts sitting on your dresser, almost skipping back down the hallway while holding them in your arms. You rejoin Eddie on the couch, sitting as close to him as you possibly can.

"Here, my love. How about you go first this time?" You say as you put the gifts in his lap.

"Sure thing, princess." He smiles at you, gazing down at the pile of gifts wrapped in blue paper you've presented him with. He opens the smallest one at the top, finding some new guitar strings. He'd mentioned needing some new ones for his prized electric guitar, which he's started to pick up again in his spare time. "Sweet! I've been needing some of these!" He says appreciatively. Next, is an apron that says 'kiss the cook' on it, which earns a small laugh from everyone in the room. "I love it, sweetheart." He grins, giving you a small kiss before opening the last one. He tears away the paper, revealing a black leather photo album. The picture of you, him, and Arwen sits in the little window on the front. He opens it to find all the other photos you've taken together, with plenty of empty spaces for new ones. "This is so thoughtful, Y/N. These photos are great. I can't wait to fill this with more pictures of us." He pulls you into him for another kiss as well as a hug, which you happily reciprocate. You're so glad he likes them. He breaks away from you far too soon for your liking, giving you a loving glance. "Your turn, babydoll."

You open up the bag he's set on your lap, taking out a small sheet of tissue paper used to hide the contents. You pull out a mixtape he's made with all your favorite songs, little doodles of hearts and other lovey dovey things penciled in around the label. "This is perfect, Eds! All my favorites in one place, thank you!" You set the tape down, pulling out the next gift. It's a drawing of you two and the cat, beautifully drawn in black pen and colored in with watercolor paint. It's in a simple, black frame, and it's absolutely gorgeous. Eddie's captured not only your likenesses perfectly, but also the love and happiness that radiates between the three of you. "This is so sweet, Eddie. You're so talented." You smile brightly, turning the picture around for everyone to see.

"Wow, Munson, that looks amazing!" Steve pipes up, impressed with Eddie's artistic skill.

"Thanks." Eddie replies, blushing wildly while rubbing the back of his neck. The others take turns looking it over, giving approving nods and comments.

"Okay, looks like there's one last thing in here." You say, reaching deep inside the bag to pull out something that feels like denim. You set the empty bag down once you free the item from it, and unfold it to inspect what this last thing is. Your mouth drops open once you put it together. Eddie has gone to all the trouble to make you your very own battle vest. It's in your size, in a dark blue wash that compliments your complexion. He's put a cut-up Vixen t-shirt on the back, and has either bought or made buttons and patches from all your favorite bands. There's a Bowie lightning bolt, a Prince love symbol, as well as other patches for AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Madonna, Wham!, Duran Duran, Def Leppard, Michael Jackson, Weird Al, Oingo Boingo, Poison, Joan Jett, Pat Benatar,etc. He even put on the Ozzy Osbourne patch you bought for him at the concert on his birthday. "Eddie, you didn't!" You exclaim, pointing to the patch in question.

"I did, sweetheart. I figured you should have the Ozzy patch. My vest is pretty full already, and it'll look better on you anyway." He says lovingly. "And I tried my best to find all your favorites, but it wasn't exactly easy. So, I made a few of them myself, I hope that's okay." He speaks so humbly, as if his massive effort to show how much he cares about your interests isn't impressive at all.

"It's more than okay! This vest is totally bitchin'! And now we match!" You reply excitedly, slipping it on over your dress. "How do I look?" You ask while posing goofily, biting your lip as you wait to see what Eddie thinks.

"Gorgeous as ever, princess." He chuckles, leaning in for a final kiss before your gathering hopefully disperses for dinner. Everyone 'aw's at you two being so sickeningly cute, and Mom snaps a picture of your affection.

"Another one for the album." She says as the camera spits the photo out. She shakes it in her hand, and passes it to you once you've let Eddie go.

"Thanks, Mom." You take it, letting it fully develop on your lap for the time being. Eddie keeps his arm around you, and the others go off to have some of the food Mom put out. It's mostly chips and soda, but she's ordering pizzas, too. You look over at Eddie, who's smiling bright and wide. He looks so cute, handsome and sexy all at once right now. "Happy anniversary, Eds." You say softly.

"Happy anniversary, baby." He gives you another kiss, though he quickly moves on to nuzzle your neck afterwards. He wants to be close to you, while keeping his libido in check. He spent the entire time he was getting dressed thinking about you. How beautiful you'd look, what dress you'd wear, how perfect said dress would look as it got tossed to the floor in your usual lustful frenzy. "So, I guess this means we have to start looking for an apartment, huh?" He asks, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Yep. Just me and you, looking at all the shitty little places Hawkins has to offer." You say with a laugh.

"Yeah...but soon, one of them will be our shitty little place." He replies, sounding so unbelievably happy about the idea.

"Very true. Ugh, I can't wait to live with you. We can finally be on our own, together." You can't help daydreaming about it, as you have done for months on end. Having landlords show you around until you find a place you like, unpacking the stacks and stacks of boxes together, breaking in the new bed...

"I can't think of anything better than that, sweetheart." He coos, still leaning on you while bringing his lips to your neck. It's only light pecks, small tokens of affection. You hum quietly at his pleasant warmth, thankful that everyone else has piled into the kitchen and dining area for your benefit. "I also cannot wait to get you alone later, princess." Eddie says lowly, nipping your neck slightly.

"Eddie, play nice. There's too many people here." You warn, though it would be so very easy to pull him down the hall to your room to have your way with him.

"Fine, fine. But only because you asked me to. You know I can never say no to you, my angel." He smirks against your flesh, placing down one last steamy kiss before returning to your innocent embrace.

"Because you know I'll punish you for disobeying me." You reply in a sultry tone. You get up from your spot without another word, leaving him speechless as you approach the group.

"You two done flirting over there?" Steve asks, handing you a red plastic cup with unknown contents in it.

"For now." You answer. "What's this?"

"Champagne, it is a very special occasion after all." He answers with a smile, and you take a sip. You make an odd face as you swallow, this is definitely not your kind of drink. "Not good?" He asks.

"No." You say apologetically, giving the cup back. "I think I'd prefer beer."

"And that is why you're my kinda girl, sweetheart." Eddie quips once he makes his way over. He slings an arm over your shoulders, unable to be away from you for more than a few seconds. Steve hands each of you a freshly-opened bottle, which you take generous sips from.

"Ugh, can you two stop being so disgustingly cute for five seconds? You're making the rest of us insanely jealous!" Robin gushes, having already downed a couple helpings of the champagne herself.

"No can do, Buckley. I'm way too fuckin' happy right now." Eddie chuckles, lowering his arm to your waist. He keeps you close, his fingers gently fidgeting around with the hem of your new vest. You smile at his restlessness, you're sure he's counting down the minutes until everybody leaves.

"So, when do you guys think you'll have time to look for a place? I know you've been pretty busy with the trials, and work, and Y/N starts her final year of college in a couple of weeks. That's a lot to handle." Nancy says, nursing her own drink.

"Shit, I have no idea. But we'll figure it out. We've got plenty of time." You reply in uncertainty, you hadn't even thought about that. Everything has been so crazy, and this party has overtaken the forefront of your mind, you didn't even consider how difficult adding another important task would be.

"It'll be fine, princess. We'll work it out together." Eddie says, noticing your unease. He knows how stressed you've been lately, though you seem to be handling things pretty well. You have been getting a lot of headaches, and you toss and turn in your sleep whenever he's in bed with you. But other than that, you're coping. You aren't hiding away, or breaking down. Hell, you haven't even had an anxiety attack in quite some time. Perhaps it's because Eddie has done everything he possibly can to lighten the load for you, which he is always more than happy to do.

"You're damn right we will. When we put our heads together, we are unstoppable, love." You smile, giving him a brief kiss.

"Well, it's good that you two seem to have it figured out. I'm an absolute mess trying to plan this wedding." Nancy says, playing around anxiously with the diamond ring on her finger.

"Have you figured out where you're having it yet? Here, or California?" You ask. It would be pretty cool to see California, you've barely even left Indiana before. But logistically, it's very far, and very expensive.

"Oh, I have no idea. And it's driving me and Jonathan crazy. Because basically each half of the wedding lives in either place, and everyone wants to give their damn two cents about it." She speaks frustratedly, taking a big swig of her champagne.

"Well, what do you and Jonathan want? It's your wedding, after all." You ask, and her expression softens. You're probably one of the few people that genuinely cares what the happy couple wants. It's their day, and yet everyone else has managed to make it about themselves. Her parents want to have the wedding here, because California is 'full of criminals', and Hopper and Joyce want it in California so all the kids can go to Disneyland. But she can't help wondering what that has to do with anything. They could go there any other time. Although, having the bachelor/bachelorette party there could be kind of fun. Otherwise, those events would probably be held at the Hideaway...which isn't ideal.

"It's been hard for me to choose, everyone's reasoning makes either option sound awful at this point. But, putting that aside, I guess California would be the better choice. I mean, who dreams of a wedding in Hawkins?" She answers, surprising herself that she's managed to figure this problem out. Jonathan made it very clear that marry her anywhere she wants, he'd even go to the moon if she asked him to. "Well, that's one issue down. And thirty more to go." She laughs, rolling her eyes at the thought of picking out flowers and hiring a photographer.

"Well, if you want any help, you can always call me and Robin up. We are your bridesmaids, after all." You offer, smiling wider at that idea. That's the one thing Nancy and Jonathan figured out once they got engaged. You, Robin, and Jane are Nancy's bridesmaids. And Steve, Eddie, and Will are the groomsmen for Jonathan. Neither one of them could pick a maid of honor or best man, so you've all collectively agreed to share the responsibilities. You've always wanted to be in a wedding, but you never thought you'd be close enough friends with anyone to do it. You want to wear a pretty dress, and help the bride get ready, and be witness to what the world collectively agrees is the ultimate symbol of love and commitment.

"I definitely will. I still need to go dress shopping. Mom keeps hounding me to wear her wedding dress, but the bulky thing is ancient and smells like moth balls." Nancy crinkles her nose, at the memory of the smell, and those god-awful poofy sleeves.

"Just let us know when you're going, Nance. We'll be there every step of the way to assist you. Ooh, you're gonna look so pretty!" Robin squeals, she's terribly eager to be part of this as well. But who wouldn't be? Nancy and Jonathan are perfect together, and they're some of your closest friends now.

"I'm guessing this means I have to wear a tux, huh?" Eddie asks, trying his best to withhold a sour face at the notion. He hates wearing fancy clothes. Neck ties are so goddamn strangling, and everything else is stuffy to a point where he feels like he's suffocating. He takes another swig of his beer, swallowing hard.

"'Fraid so, Eds. But you're gonna look so handsome." You answer, poking his nose playfully.

"Do I not already look that way?" He asks jokingly.

"Of course you do, my love. You look so good in everything...and nothing at all." You smile mischievously at him, flicking your eyes to look him up and down to prove your point.

"Ugh, stop it! I'm gonna barf!" Dustin cries, having been not-so-casually eavesdropping on your adult conversation. You suspect he's been sent over as a spy by the other youngsters, they really like to know what you all get up to. It's cute, like you're all their older siblings and they just want to participate and feel grown up.

"Quit spying, then! Don't you kids have anything better to do? Shit, when we were your age, we would've snuck out of the house to go get wasted by now." Steve kicks into babysitter mode, as he always does in these situations. He shoos Dustin away, and shoots a disapproving look at the gaggle of teenagers waiting for their special agent to return with intel.

"Oh, don't be so hard on them, Stevie. Not everyone can be a party animal like you." Robin chides him, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, I was not a party animal." Steve scoffs, crossing his arms defiantly.

"You so were! You threw so many parties, and went to every party hosted by anyone else for four whole years!" Robin exclaims. You and the others nod in agreement. You'd never been invited to a Harrington rager, but even the freaks and geeks in your graduating class knew that said parties were the stuff of legend.

"Oh, whatever. It wasn't that many. And how would you know? You weren't there." Steve retorts.

"Didn't have to be there to know that 'King Steve' was doing keg stands and sleeping with every girl he saw for four years straight." Eddie interjects.

"Okay...you may have a point." Steve gives up. He really should know better than to debate some of the biggest losers in Hawkins High history about how popular he was.

"Alright, everyone! The pizza's here!" Mom announces, setting down a stack of cardboard boxes on the dining table. Everyone immediately digs in, piling slice after slice onto paper plates.

You and Eddie cuddle up together on the couch as you eat, with the other young adults sitting around you. You continue to discuss the wedding with Nancy, helping her figure out small details like the color palette and flowers. Even Chrissy joins in on the conversation, and you welcome her. You'd been inadvertently excluding her before, which you feel a little guilty about. Nancy seems to appreciate the help, there's no doubt Mrs. Wheeler has been on her case about the whole thing. It's understandable, a mother dreams of assisting with her daughter's wedding. But Nancy is fiercely independent, so surely any advice from her mom is going in one ear and out the other.

You can tell Steve and Eddie are a bit bored with this conversation, but they sit by and listen to you girls babble on until you've had your fill. It's not like they can come up with anything all that interesting to talk about right now, anyway. As you sit in Eddie's lap, his hands wander around your stomach and hips. He makes subtle touches on your body, trying to tease you to pass the time. You can feel him getting a little hard underneath you, which makes you smirk. You shift your lower half every so often, knowing full well he can feel you rubbing against him each time you do that. He keeps his cool, there'll be plenty of time to pay you back for teasing him later.

Once everyone's done eating, Mom comes around to clean up all the empty paper plates and leftover crusts. Your friends help you move all the new gifts into your room for the time being, and they now occupy a mostly-unused corner by your window. Some of your guests depart for the evening, mainly the kids and Wayne. You say goodbye to them and give them all hugs and thanks for sharing this night with you. Mom goes to her room for the evening, feeling rather tired after all the excitement.

The rest of you continue to hang out for a bit, taking the gathering outdoors for a smoke. Eddie lights your cig for you, as well as his own. The stars and moon light up the night sky, and the lot of you sit quietly while huddled together in the grass. JJ sits on Chrissy's lap, and a cigarette dangles from her manicured fingers as she sits to your left on the end of the gathering. Eddie's to your right, with the others sitting in a line onwards in that direction. Neither Nancy or Robin take part in the smoking, they've never enjoyed it much. But they like hanging around the rest of you too much to be left behind.

"So, how have you been, Chrissy?" You ask, turning your head to look her way.

"I'm doing great. I got a job in town, at the Big Buy, actually. And my aunt is honestly a godsend. She's been really helpful with JJ, and I'm so happy to finally be free." She answers with a smile, taking a drag from her smoke afterwards.

"That's great! Are you doing alright with prepping for the trial?" You question. You wonder if she also finds Murray Bauman to be quite the colorful character.

"Yeah, it's coming together. It's hard to talk about everything, but Murray makes it as easy as he can. He is a bit odd, though." She chuckles, flicking her ash into the grass.

"He certainly is." You laugh. "But, he seems to know what he's doing. He's been very helpful for Eddie and I."

"Oh, that's right! I forgot about your own case. I was sorry to hear about what that asshole Hagan did to your house." She exclaims, which morphs into anger at the thought of some jerk antagonizing you. She considers you a very good friend now, after everything you've done to help her.

"I appreciate that. It's all fixed now, obviously. But I dread actually pulling everything out again in a courtroom." You sigh, not wanting to think about Tommy or the awful things he's done. Not tonight, when everything else has been so positive and sweet.

"So do I, Y/N. It's never easy, but it's what's right. We both deserve justice, and we're damn well going to get it!" She says with complete resolve, even thrusting her fist in the air to get her point across.

"You bet your ass we will!" You mirror her sentiment, clasping her hand with your own for a moment. You two share a bond now, in a way. Here you sit, two young women fighting back against the men who've tried to make victims out of you. It's not just about you as individuals at this point. You both serve as a voice for others who are too afraid to fight back, too scared to say no. It's kind of empowering, actually. Your strength, and refusal to back down, will show the world (or a small town, at least) that abuse cannot and shall no longer be tolerated. Not by you, not by the court, not by society. It isn't the nineteen-fifties anymore. You're in the modern age now, spearheading a new wave of feminism in ninteen-eighty-fucking-nine.

"Shit, look at the time. JJ is way overdue for bed." Chrissy tuts after glancing at her watch. She looks down at her son, who's fallen asleep in her arms. It's going to be one hell of a drive home, he'll surely cry the whole way when she inevitably disturbs him to put him in his car seat.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that." You apologize, standing up from your spot.

"No, no, it's alright. It's my own fault. You mind holding him for a moment so I can get up?" Chrissy says, preparing to lift JJ up for you to take him.

"Oh, sure." You reply uneasily. You've never been one for holding kids, you've always had this weird fear of dropping them. You hold your arms out, and Chrissy carefully hands JJ off to you. He stirs a little from his slumber, but you bring him close to your chest, supporting his bottom with your hand.

"Don't get any ideas, princess." Eddie jokes, gazing up at you holding the small child. He can tell you're not enjoying holding Chrissy's son one bit, your stiffened face says it all.

"Believe me, I wasn't." You roll your eyes, waiting for Chrissy to take JJ back already. He is very cute, but the sensation of holding him is very uncomfortable for you.

"Oh, Eddie, be nice. Don't you want kids someday?" Nancy asks, her eyes glued to the little bundle of joy in your arms. He's so adorable, and she'd love to have one of her own, or maybe two.

"No!" You and Eddie blurt at the same time. The others laugh at your serious expressions and quick protest. Your cheeks begin to burn, wishing you didn't have such a strong reaction to the idea of children.

"Well, that's a shame. You'd make some very cute babies together." Chrissy adds, taking JJ back now that she's standing up.

"Sorry, we don't mean to be so aggressively anti-kid. It's just not what we want, that's all." You sigh, realizing you might have hurt Chrissy's feelings or made her think you don't like her son.

"It's okay, Y/N. I'm not offended." Chrissy giggles. "I get it, it's not for everyone. I just love being a mom so much, I can't help wanting to share that joy with other people." She says sweetly.

"Well, we've got a cat. That must count for something." Eddie comments, flicking his spent butt away. The others groan at that suggestion, comparing a pet to a child is always a no-go. "Ugh, I give up." He sighs, flopping backwards to lay in the grass now.

"Sorry, Munson. Cats may be cute, but it's not nearly the same as raising a kid." Robin says, giving his head a sympathetic pat. He bats her hand away, becoming rather annoyed with this conversation. "Ow! Someone's getting testy. Y/N, control your man, please!" She taunts.

"Don't mind if I do!" You laugh, positioning yourself to straddle his legs. You land hard on him, pinning him down on the ground. He grunts at your weight, his hands immediately going to your hips. He looks at you with an unamused expression. "Now, Eddie, you'd better play nice." You speak teasingly.

"Or what?" He asks, challenging you.

"Or, all the action you're gonna get tonight will be coming from your right hand." You warn, drawing raucous laughs from everyone else. You peer down at Eddie, leaning down real close to show him just how serious you are with this threat. "Now, be a good boy and say you're sorry." His eyes widen at you pulling out that phrase in front of your friends, though they don't know the extensive history you have behind it. A light blush colors his cheeks, and he hopes to God the others don't notice.

"Alright, jeez!" He yields to you, turning his head to look at Robin. "I'm sorry for being mean, Rob." He apologizes, as sincerely as he can muster. He knows that if he gives anything less, it won't be good enough to escape punishment.

"Damn, dude! Y/N's totally got you whipped!" Steve cackles, earning a smack on the chest from Nancy. "Hey, I thought we said no hitting!"

"You earned that one by being an ass." Nancy answers with a casual shrug.

"Alright, well, I'd better get going. Thanks for having us over, Y/N." Chrissy cuts in.

"Thanks for coming, Chrissy. It was nice to see you again." You say kindly, not looking away from Eddie as you speak. His eyes don't leave yours, either. He knows exactly what he's in for once the others leave.

"Yeah, we should probably leave, too. I think we're getting in the middle of something." Robin chuckles, and Steve and Nancy nod in agreement. "Night, guys. Have fun." She says in a sing-song voice.

"Bye, Rob." Eddie answers this time. The other two say their goodbyes as well, and you can hear them catching up to Robin to crack jokes about the both of you. But you don't mind, you're barely paying attention at all. All you can focus on is Eddie, and everything you want to do to him.

"Finally, I get you all to myself." You say lowly once the cars of your guests pull out of the driveway, shifting your lower half over his. He groans at the feeling, and you sense him growing underneath you. You bring your lips to his, kissing him hungrily. Your tongue slips inside his mouth, and his hands grip your hips a little harder. You reach for the buttons on his shirt, clumsily undoing them.

"What are you doing, Y/N?" Eddie asks breathlessly.

"Having my way with you. Is that alright?" You retort, managing to get his shirt all the way open now. You lower your head to plant sloppy kisses on his chest, your teeth biting his nipples when you find them.

"Out here? Someone might see us, babydoll." He says, though it doesn't matter much to him how or where you want to have sex. He'll do anything you ask, no matter the risk.

"It's late, and no one's around. I want you, I can't wait anymore." You pant, reaching for his belt. You hastily undo it, opening up his jeans shortly after. You reach inside, taking his cock in your hand. "Don't you want me, Eddie?" You ask seductively, leaving his chest alone to meet his eyes again. Your pupils are blown wide with lust, and your mouth sits slightly agape. You are the prettiest picture of desire he's ever seen.

"Of course I do, sweetheart. I always want you." He says, groaning as you begin to stroke him in your hand.

"Good." You reply simply, taking hold of his hand to bring it under your dress. He can feel how wet you are through your panties, you must have been thinking about him all day. He rubs his fingers over your clothed heat, making you gasp. You press your lips to his again, and he realizes that this is surely going to be a night to remember.

Part 31.2: Fever

"You sure you wanna do this out here, angel?" Eddie asks as you continue to pump his dick in your hand.

"Ask me one more time, Eds, and I'll change my fucking mind." You answer firmly, shimmying your body over his to remove your panties. You toss them away, hiking your skirt around your upper thighs as you straddle him.

"Sorry..." He swallows hard, watching you get yourself ready for him. "I just一" He starts to explain himself, but there's really no need. You shake your head, smiling down at him as you press a finger to his lips.

"Baby, relax. I want this." You make yourself perfectly clear, not an ounce of doubt in your eyes.

"Then so do I, sweetheart." He says, a small grin forming on his face. He has absolutely no problem fucking you senseless on your front lawn in the dead of night. Hell, he's thought about it a lot as it's one of the few places where you haven't had sex yet. He's been waiting for the day when you'd finally cross it off the list.

"Touch me, baby. Please." You beg, greedily taking hold of his hand to bring it back to where you want him most. He gently frees himself from your grasp, running his palm up your thigh until he reaches your soaked pussy. He carefully brushes his fingers through your folds. You moan at his touch, your eyes falling closed.

"No need to rush, princess. You know I'll give you anything you want." He says sweetly, sitting up to put himself level with you. He continues to stroke your cunt, and you grab hold of his stiffened length again. You open your eyes to meet his, placing your free hand on his shoulder. "You're so wet, Y/N. Is this all for me?" He asks, his loving tone laced with lust. He's always been able to toe the line between affection and seduction, making you feel adored while also turning you on beyond belief.

"Always, Eds." You reply breathlessly. He keeps his eyes on you as he slips a finger inside of you, watching your mouth fall open slightly to let out a beautiful moan. You look down between your bodies, watching Eddie's hand move back and forth between your thighs. His finger glides in and out of your soaked hole, your arousal making it glisten in the moonlight. "More, baby." You plead, waiting in anticipation as he brings another finger to your entrance. He presses it inside, making you gasp. You continue to gaze downwards, a knot building in your belly with every second you spend watching him slowly fuck you with his fingers.

"Such a pretty picture, babydoll..." Eddie breathes. He's completely stuck in place, witnessing you sitting on top of him while making the sweetest sounds, turning yourself on even more by watching him touch you. Your hand absently runs up and down his shaft, his tip becoming red and swollen with need. A bead of precum has gathered in the slit, slowly dripping down the side as you lightly squeeze him while you work. "Look at me, angel." He says, still speaking in his comfortable, yet sexy voice. You do as he asks, finding his gorgeous face admiring the hell out of you. You can't help blushing under his gaze. "My sexy girl. God, I love you so much." Eddie coos, cupping your cheek with his free hand while leaning in closer to you.

"I love you too, Eds." Your lips meet his, soft and warm. He tastes like cigarettes and beer, which is an all too familiar flavor for you. It's addictive, despite how bitter it is. It's him, and that automatically makes it the sweetest thing to ever grace your palate. Your tongues quickly come out to play, deepening your kiss as you fight for dominance. Neither of you care who ends up winning this small battle, it can end in a tie for all you care. All you want is to keep touching each other, and to make love in the dew-kissed grass.

"Can I fuck you, Y/N?" Eddie asks as you pull away. It's the same question he'd asked you on that fateful night six months ago. He sounds just as sincere as he did that evening, if not even more so at this moment.

"Yes, my love." You answer, lifting yourself up on your knees. He takes away his fingers, quickly licking your arousal from them. And in turn, you carefully bring his cock closer to your pussy. You teasingly drag his tip along your slit, drawing low groans from the both of you. You maintain eye contact with him as you slowly sink downwards. His dick fills you up deliciously, and you continue to make muted noises together until he's completely sheathed inside of you. "Fuck...I've been craving this all night." You chuckle lustfully, so very glad that you finally have what you want.

"So have I, princess. But you already knew that." He laughs lightly, grabbing hold of your hips as he waits for you to start moving. Your insides clench around him, just as they did on your first night together. It appears you're both trying to recreate it, in a way. To show how far you've come, as well as how hopelessly in love you've become since then. "Do that again, sweetheart. You know how much I love it." He pleads, and you don't hesitate to do it. He groans at the sensation, and you hold yourself tightly around him for a moment. You can feel every single part of him, picturing the exact size and shape of him in your mind. "Jesus christ." Eddie murmurs, tightening his grip on your waist.

"Is my pussy blowing your mind, Eddie?" You ask lowly, putting your hands on his shoulders for leverage.

"You could say that." He struggles to get the words out, gripping you harder in an effort to resist the urge to buck his hips upwards. You stop squeezing him, and lift yourself up slowly...before slamming back down again.

"Fuck一" You gasp, your head falling forward from his tip kissing your cervix. You allow your eyes to close, letting yourself enjoy every sensation for a moment. You repeat the action, carefully rising, and falling back down with force. This draws more noises from the two of you, and Eddie's hands only squeeze tighter around you.

"Please...go faster, love." He whines. You're driving him crazy with all your teasing.

"You got it, babe." You rasp. You press a brief, hungry kiss to his lips, and start to ride him at a steady pace. Your hips move up and down, rolling to hit your g-spot with Eddie's hands guiding you.

"Fuck." He observes your body bobbing above him, taking in every little detail. Your lips meeting his every so often, punctuating a few gentle bounces at a time. Your tits subtly jiggling inside your dress, cleavage on full display in what little light there is out here. His cock disappearing into your pussy again and again, your most vulnerable parts staying warm and wet as they work against one another. Everything about this night has been absolutely perfect, and having you moaning in his lap is the delectable cherry on top.

"You feel so good, baby..." You whimper, picking up the pace a little. Your kisses become rougher, and you repeatedly take Eddie's bottom lip between your teeth.

"So do you, sweetheart." He exhales, following your lead. He reaches around to grab hold of your ass, exposing more of your skin as your dress rides up your back. You moan into his mouth, speeding up in response. "Go faster, love. I know you can do it." He requests breathlessly, squeezing your flesh harder in his grip. You moan aloud, bouncing quicker now. His dick is hitting all the right angles inside you, and his huge hands helping you roll your hips is melting you from the inside out. "That's it...such a good girl for me." He praises, watching your face twist in pleasure whenever you aren't aggressively kissing him.

"Only for you, Eds." You pant, unable to resist speeding up even more. You ride him as fast as you can, letting out more vulgar sounds along the way. You're getting so close already. The added thrill of possibly getting caught makes every time you land on him feel stronger than the last. Your skin slaps loudly against his, and the humid night air has painted you over in sweat. "God, I love your cock, baby..." You murmur, trying to reach Eddie's neck to latch onto it. You slip your hands under his open shirt, needing to hold his bare skin like your life depends on it.

"More than me, princess?" He asks jokingly.

"No, but I think it's a pretty close second." You answer, clumsily biting down on him.

"Shit一" Eddie grunts at the sting of your teeth scraping against his throat. You're like a wild animal, one small step away from making him your next meal. Far be it from him to complain, when you're absolutely soaked and dragging him down the rugged path to ecstasy with you. Your velvet walls squish and pulse around him, wet noises joining the overarching chorus of moans and skin meeting skin. He's not sure how much longer he can last, though he doubts this is the only round you'll have tonight. "Mmm, I can feel you gettin' close, princess...you gonna make a mess for me?" Eddie smolders, while you continue to mark him up with careless bites and bruises.

"Yeah...gonna cum all over your dick, love. Just the way you like it." You pant the words out, your hot breath fanning against him.

"You know me too well, babydoll. Keep going, be a good little slut for me." He encourages you, helping you both along by thrusting himself upwards to meet your rough bounces.

"Fuck! Keep doing that, Eds. You're gonna make me cum..." You leave his neck alone now, it's far too difficult to keep kissing him through your rough motions. Waves of pleasure are rolling over you, and you can't help your head falling forward as you anticipate your high.

"Don't look away, angel. I wanna see that pretty face when you let it all go." He commands through labored breath. He's completely soaked through his shirt with sweat, and the fabric sticks to him uncomfortably. You lift your head up to meet his eyes, holding yourself upright while helpless noises repeatedly leave your lips. "That's it...almost there一 fuck." He smiles at you, despite his own bliss threatening to take hold. His stomach has begun to tense, and his balls are as tight as can be. Any second now, he's going to lose it entirely.

"Eddie..." You trail off, reaching a hand behind you to take hold of Eddie's wrist. You bring him around in your grip, raising his fingers towards your mouth. You take his index and middle ones past your lips, moistening them with your tongue.

"Whatcha doin' there, baby?" He asks curiously, his orgasm put on hold for a moment. You don't say anything else, you're just following an intense urge you feel inside of you. You release his fingers from your mouth, which are now covered in your saliva. And then you bring his hand behind you again.

"Eddie, please..." You beg as you attempt to press him towards your puckered entrance. You want to feel him in both of your holes. You've done this a couple of times already, though you haven't had him fully penetrate you in this way. You've been a little nervous about it, if you're honest. But tonight, you want to finally try it out. After a bit of preparation right now, of course.

"I've got you, princess. It's okay." He chuckles lightly, giving you what you can't bear to plainly ask for. You continue to ride him at full speed, and you feel his finger slowly push inside your ass.

"Fuck!" You gasp, the combined sensations shoving you further toward the edge. It feels insane to have Eddie inside you in these ways, and it leaves you craving so much more.

"Does that feel good, Y/N? Should I add the other one?" He asks, hoping you say yes. He loves the painfully obvious expressions of pleasure that mold your face into various beautiful shapes.

"Yes, baby...s-so good. I want more." You whine, and Eddie mercifully slips in his middle finger to join the other. Another loud gasp escapes your lips, and he proceeds to rapidly pump his digits inside your asshole. "I'm gonna cum, Eddie. Please...don't stop...oh, god一 FUCK!" Your eyes lock onto his as bliss takes you over. Your mouth falls open, releasing a sound loud enough to draw some real attention to you. But you don't care, the heavenly heat bursting through your body matters far more than the cops being called. Your pussy clamps down around Eddie's cock, effectively yanking him into the lustful pit with you.

"Fuck, Y/N一" Eddie's cut off by a deep groan bursting forth from his lungs, his brows furrowing. His hips buck into you as his sticky load spills inside your cunt. His continued thrusts to meet your erratic bounces cause a warm flood of arousal to gush from your pulsating hole. Your juices spill down messily, quickly being absorbed by Eddie's jeans and boxers. Your ass clenches around his fingers, too, making it difficult for him to keep sliding them back and forth. Your thighs quake as you ride this out, your nails digging into his shoulders to hang onto him.

"Holy shit..." You huff, letting yourself fall forward into Eddie's chest while your high subsides.

"You can say that again, sweetheart." He replies once you've both gone completely still. Eddie carefully removes his fingers from your ass, making you whine at the loss. "Damn, I love it when you do that. That little sound you make...it's so fuckin' sexy." He smirks, gazing down at your head buried in his torso. He swipes his hand along the damp grass, making a mental note to wash up before you start round two.

You look up at him, meeting his satisfied smile with a sultry grin of your own. "What can I say, Eddie? I hate it when you're not inside me." You press a light kiss to his lips, keeping it brief so you can go inside and take this to bed. You slowly lift yourself up, letting Eddie's softened length fall out of you. Your mixed release goes with it, spilling out around his cock and spreading quickly into his clothes. "Fuck." You murmur at the mess you've made, leaning down to lick off what you can.

"Jesus, Y/N." His breath catches at your tongue licking around his dick, and he watches in awe as you clean him up. You can't help moaning a little at the taste, you're such a sweet indulgence together. You do your best to get every last bit you can, you'd hate for it to drip all over the floor.

"Mmm." You hum as you swallow, sitting upright. "C'mon, Eds. Let's go to bed. We've still got so much more to do." You say sweetly, getting off of his lap to stand up. You pull your dress down over your bottom half, and retrieve your panties from the grass.

"Don't have to tell me twice, princess." Eddie puts himself away, quickly doing up his zipper and belt. He stands to meet you, taking your hand. He leads you into the house, and to your room. He makes a small detour to the bathroom, quickly washing his hands and bringing a couple fresh towels with him. With everything you both have in mind, you're going to be making quite the mess. "Just so you know...you're not getting a second of sleep tonight." Eddie says darkly as he shuts your bedroom door and clicks the lock.

"Oh, I'm counting on it, Eds." You reply with a smile, beckoning him to the bed with your finger. Safe to say, it's going to be a long night.

Saturday, August, 26th, 1989

"No further questions, your honor." Murray says as he finishes your line of questions from his end. The trial has been going very well so far. You've answered everything exactly the way Murray told you to, leaving no room for the defense to pick you apart. Your anxiety about this whole thing has been put to rest. You can feel it. You just have to finish this out, and then you'll get the justice you deserve.

"Alright. Mr. Fielding, you may begin your cross-examination." The judge says. He's a gangly, younger man with short brown hair, and a somewhat nasal voice. His name plate reads 'Judge Harold T. Stone'. Your case is being overseen by none other than the goofy judge from Night Court. And Tommy's lawyer just happens to be Dan Fielding from the same television show. This can't be right, can it? This isn't real. But it certainly feels like it. Your ass has gone numb in the uncomfortable chair you're sitting on in the witness stand, and the ledge in front of you feels real enough. The grain of the wood is distinctly read by the tips of your fingers. The subtle grooves and ridges telling you that this is reality, despite the alarm bells in your head saying otherwise.

"Thank you, Judge Stone." Dan says, looking at you with a subtly smug smile on his face. Here we go, just follow the guidelines Murray gave you. Don't let him phase you, don't let him twist your words. Keep your answers short and concise. "So, Ms. Henderson. You were in a relationship with my client for three months in 1986, correct?" He starts, the question sounding simple enough.

"Yes. During the summer." You reply, nodding your head.

"Right. Now, you testified that your relationship with Mr. Hagan was an unhappy one. That he would treat you poorly, and would act unfaithfully on a regular basis. Is that correct?" Dan says, coming a little closer to you.

"Yes." Short and sweet, keep it short and sweet. Just like Murray said. You keep repeating the tips Murray's given you in your head over and over. You're feeling so nervous all of a sudden. Mr. Fielding seems to be building to a rather unpleasant place. You don't know where it'll lead, but you don't like it one bit.

"But Mr. Hagan made it a habit to shower you with lavish gifts, didn't he?" He takes another few steps closer to you, like an animal on the prowl.

"Well, yes. But they came at a price." You realize once that second sentence leaves your lips, that you've slipped up. You look at Murray on your side of the courtroom, and he shakes his head in disappointment. You flick your eyes to Eddie instead, and his expression is the same. It reads all over his face. You're blowing it, sweetheart. You look away from them, having found no comfort. Or reassurance that perhaps you can salvage this.

"And what price would that be, Y/N?" Dan asks, his smile growing wider as he sets his trap.

"Sex." You answer shortly, unsure what else to say without digging this hole even deeper.

"What? You don't like sex, Y/N?" Mr. Fielding asks snarkily.

"No, I do. But not when it feels like a transaction." You explain, though every word out of your mouth seems to be the wrong one.

"Are you suggesting that Tommy was essentially paying you for sex? A promising young man? From an upstanding family in your humble community?" Dan pushes, almost putting you right where he wants you.

"He was trying to. But when I wouldn't do what he said, he'd insult me and threaten to take the gift back." You really wish you'd stop talking now.

"So, it wasn't really about the sex, then? You just wanted the gifts?" There it is, his sleazy angle to discredit you.

"No! That's not what I meant!" You exclaim.

"I advise you to watch that tone, young lady. I won't abide shouting in my courtroom." Judge Stone says, giving you a stern look.

"Sorry, your honor." You address him respectfully, before continuing. "I didn't care about receiving anything material from him. I just wanted a loving boyfriend." You end softly, with a shrug.

"Well, spoiling you the way he did sounds pretty loving to me. And all you had to do was, what? Put out every once in a while? That doesn't seem too much to ask. I mean, a man's got needs, Ms. Henderson." Dan says with a chuckle. You're waiting for Murray to object, or for the judge to reprimand that last string of comments. To call out this man's clearly biased 一not to mention pervy一 behavior. But nothing of that nature comes. In fact, you look to see that Murray has disappeared from the courtroom altogether. "Moving on. You also testified that Mr. Hagan harassed you during the short period you both worked together at the Hawkins Theater earlier this year. Is that correct?"

"Yes." You say shakily, suddenly feeling a little ill. You flick your eyes over to your corner again, finding Eddie, Mom, Dustin, and all your friends giving you disapproving looks. You don't understand why. Regardless of how this stupid trial goes, they're supposed to be on your side. They promised you that much...didn't they?

"You claim that Tommy kept touching you and saying inappropriate things to you at work, correct?" Dan asks.

"Yes." You answer. The less words, the better.

"But that isn't true, is it?" He questions, coming closer. His eyes stare daggers into yours, warning you that things are only going to get worse from here.

"Yes, it is. I didn't want to interact with him at all, unless it was directly related to work." You firmly insist, keeping your anger and disgust at bay for fear of Judge Stone scolding you again.

"Do you keep that same policy with all of your coworkers? Including your boyfriend?" Mr. Fielding presses, smiling even more smugly than before.

"Yes. I keep things professional at work." You say shakily, your confidence has completely melted away to nothing at this point.

"Now, Y/N. You know it's wrong to lie on the stand, don't you? Because I have it on good authority that you did, in fact, engage in...intimate activities with Eddie Munson on numerous occasions in the storage closet at your workplace!" He says accusingly.

"Who told you that?" You ask incredulously, crossing your arms in defense.

"You just did, Ms. Henderson. So, if you'll lie about this, how can we trust your word on anything you claim Mr. Hagan has allegedly done to you? If you ask me, I think you enjoyed Tommy's advances. I think it...excited you, and you've only concocted these stories to keep your boyfriend from realizing how unfaithful you are! I think you were afraid of Eddie leaving you, and you couldn't let that happen!"

"That's not true! I don't feel that way about Tommy at all! I don't!" You cry out, pleading with everyone in the room that this is all a bunch of bullshit. You meet Eddie's eyes again, and he's absolutely furious. His face has gone red with rage, and he quickly turns his head away to keep from looking at you anymore. The others aren't much better, their gaze growing more disapproving and disappointed by the second. They all think you're a liar, and a whore.

"Stop lying to us, Y/N. It's not helping your case, I'm afraid. Now, c'mon, admit it. You wanted to have both of these men vying for your attention. And in doing so, you made Mr. Hagan jealous enough to vandalize your house. It'll be so much easier on everyone if you just take responsibility." Dan speaks like he's begging you to see reason.

"If you can't be honest, young lady, I'm going to have to hold you in contempt." The judge warns, peering down at you from his seat.

"I'm telling you the truth. For the last time, I had no intention of leading anybody on. I did not want to be with Tommy anymore, and I made that perfectly clear many times. He didn't take no for an answer, so he harassed, assaulted, and stalked me. He broke my window, and spray-painted 'whore' on my house. That's all there is to it. Why won't you believe me?" You try to stay calm as you speak, but it's become so difficult, given how aggressively Tommy's lawyer is coming at you. It's like the only way out is to 'admit' that this is all your fault. But you know damn well that it isn't.

"Your honor, I hate to say it. But I believe we have an uncooperative witness on our hands. I request that she be removed from the courtroom, and for this case to be dismissed." The man addresses the judge, who nods in quiet agreement.

"Yes, quite right. Please hold Ms. Henderson in contempt of court, and I declare this case officially dismissed." Stone announces to the room, before looking at you again. "This is what happens when you act like a whore, Y/N. Maybe next time, try keeping your legs closed, hm?" He grins wickedly at you, his words making your stomach drop. "Bailiff, take her away. Court is adjourned." He bangs his gavel, and you feel two strong arms grabbing hold of you from behind.

"No! Let me go! I didn't do anything! I'm not a whore, goddammit! This is bullshit!" You cry and scream and kick your legs, trying your best to escape. But it's no use, the officer pulling you away is far too big and bulky for you to break free. "Eddie, please! Don't let them do this! Mom! Dustin! Anybody! Please, don't let them take me!" Tears flow hotly down your cheeks as you scream, this cannot be happening. This isn't how court works. How is it that you're the one being locked away? You didn't do anything wrong. But nonetheless, everyone has turned on you. Eddie and the others leave the courtroom along with the jury, their backs turned to you as you're removed from the courtroom to be thrown into a cell.

"Y/N, sweetheart." Eddie coos quietly as he shakes you awake. You snap out of your bad dream, your body jolting at rejoining reality.

"The fuck?" You murmur, blinking your eyes. You're very confused as to what's happening right now. Just seconds ago, you were being arrested for 'lying' under oath. And now...you're back in bed with Eddie. You don't know what time it is, or what day. Your dream had you convinced that it was weeks in the future, in the midst of your much-dreaded trial.

"You were having a nightmare, princess. You kept talking in your sleep, and fighting...something. You even smacked me in the face." Eddie says, ending on a chuckle. He knows you didn't mean to hit him, clearly something inside your head was tormenting you.

"Ugh." You sigh, clapping a hand over your face. "It was about the stupid fuckin' trial." You reply groggily, still getting your brain in order. "What time is it?" You ask, uncovering your eyes to look at him again. He gazes down at you kindly, the exact opposite of how he was doing so in your dream.

"It's 2:30 in the afternoon." Eddie answers, stroking your damp hair. You're covered in sweat, and your heart is still pounding in your chest.

"Jesus. What day is it?" You question.

"August 26th, baby. One day after our six-month anniversary. Are you feelin' okay? Did I fuck you too hard, or something?" He jokes, which earns him a light smack on the chest and an unamused look from you. "Hey, what's the problem?" He asks, confused as to where your head's at. It's honestly worrying him that you're so disoriented.

"Sorry. Just...the dream felt extremely real. Well, except for a few minor details." You reply, rolling your eyes. You're not exactly spooked by this odd nightmare of yours, moreso annoyed at your mind trying to convince you that you're at fault in the situation with Tommy. Like, what even is that? You know it's not true. So...what's up with the self-imposed guilt-trip?

"You wanna tell me about it?" Eddie asks sweetly, stroking your arm.

"Yeah, I don't suppose I have a choice in that, do I?" You snark, knowing he won't let you hide anything like this from him.

"Nope. Sorry, babydoll. But as always, I'm here to support you. Even when you're being a bit of a一..." He trails off, stopping himself.

"A bitch?" You ask, guessing that's what he was getting at.

"Uh, well, I..." He says nervously. He doesn't want to sour your mood any further, your dream was hard enough on you as it is.

"It's fine, Eds. I am being kind of a bitch right now, and I'm sorry about that. But I'll explain why in a minute." You sigh again, giving him an apologetic glance. "Care to light me a smoke first?" You plead, forcing yourself to lighten up a little. Talking this out with him should help you understand what your dream means, if it means anything at all.

"Sure thing, love. Maybe it'll mellow you out a bit, hm?" He chuckles, reaching over you to grab his cigarettes and lighter from the nightstand. You smack him again, much more playfully this time. "Ow! Keep that up, sweetheart, and I'll have to teach you a lesson." He warns, his eyes flaring with desire for a moment. You touching him in any way turns him on, even when you're being kinda mean.

"I don't think so, Eds. I'm pretty sore from last night." You grin, mentally replaying all the nasty little things you did to each other for hours on end. Round after round you went, fucking one another in every way imaginable. Standing up, on the floor, against the wall, on your dresser, every possible position in and around your bed. Anal, oral, toys, handcuffs, masturbation, and everything in between was on the table. You of course needed many breaks in between, for water, snacks, cigarettes, even a shower that turned into a couple rounds in and of itself. You completely ravaged each other, until the sun began to rise and you couldn't bear to cum anymore.

"Yeah, I think I'd have to say the same." He smirks, and his cock twitches at the reminder. It was certainly a night to remember, though you're both suffering the consequences of going so hard for so long. Every single one of your muscles ache, as well as your various holes. You're also exhausted, despite sleeping well into the afternoon. You must have fit at least a week's worth of sex into one night, and that's not even counting your risky romp on the front lawn. "Alright, now tell me about this dream of yours." He says, pulling you both out of your reminiscing. He lights two cigs between his lips, handing one off to you.

"Okay, okay." You roll your eyes, taking a long drag of your smoke before telling Eddie everything. You casually let him in on every silly detail of your nightmare. From TV characters grilling you, to everyone you know turning against you, you spare no words in describing the awful experience.

"Well, that's...weird." Eddie says, unsure how to react.

"No shit, Eddie." You scoff, taking a long drag. You flick your ash into the tray sitting on your blanket, hoping he'll say something else.

"Do you seriously still think that it's all your fault?" He asks, getting into the deeper questions.

"I know that it isn't一" You start, but he shakes his head.

"That's not what I asked, Y/N." He cuts in. "Look, we've talked it through before, right? We established that you aren't to blame for Tommy's actions. But, obviously you still don't feel that's the case. It doesn't matter what you know, if you're still feeling guilty about it." He explains calmly, hoping you won't take his words the wrong way. You tend to get a bit defensive about this kind of thing. He doesn't blame you, he would be too. But it's his job to try to help you through stuff like this.

"But I'm not! I kept screaming at the top of my lungs that it wasn't true!" You retort, almost shouting.

"I know that, angel." Eddie says, still keeping his cool. He places his free hand on your arm, gazing into your eyes meaningfully. "Maybe what you're actually worried about is what everyone else is going to think of you? Like the judge, the jury, and Tommy's lawyer? That no matter what you say, people won't believe you over him?" He tries to dig deeper, which seems to be the right direction.

"Yeah, maybe..." You shrug. You don't really want to talk about this anymore. You're nervous enough as it is. You're so afraid of slipping up on the stand, or having your own words twisted against you.

"Is that maybe spelled 'Y-E-S'?" Eddie asks, and you nod quietly. He sighs, stubbing his smoke out to pull you closer to him. His arms wrap around you nice and snug, and he refuses to let you avoid his eyes. "Baby, we've been over this. Tommy may have a fancy lawyer, and lots of money, and all that shit. But do you know what he doesn't have?"

"What?" You ask, completely lost. There can't possibly be any real advantage on your end.

"He doesn't have tons of people ready to defend him. But you do. You have me, and your mom, Dustin, the list goes on forever. Tommy doesn't have anybody like that, because he's an asshole." He speaks sweetly, reassuring you that you have so many people in your corner. "And we aren't going to let anyone think you're a liar, or a whore, or whatever else you think he'll say you are. Okay?"

"Okay." You answer quietly, cupping his cheek with your hand.

"Good." He smiles, giving you a light peck. He thinks of something else as he pulls away, though, raising an eyebrow at you. "Also, why do you keep fixating on that word?" He asks curiously.

"What word?" You play dumb, knowing exactly what term he's referring to. He gives you an odd look, like he's clocked your cagey tendencies again.

"'Whore'. Should I not call you that in bed anymore?" He asks, realizing just how many times he's uttered it in reference to you. He wonders if he's somehow contributed to your guilt or shame in some way by using it.

"I know you don't mean it like that, Eddie." You insist, but he's not sure you're being completely honest about it.

"It doesn't matter how I mean it or not, Y/N. If it makes you feel bad, I don't want to say it anymore." Eddie doesn't back down. "Plus, I've got plenty of other things that I can call you, ya know." He smiles at that, recalling all the other names he has for you.

"I guess it has gotten a bit tainted. You know, with the graffiti and everything. We can stop using it, if you want." You shrug again, picking at your fingers.

Eddie sighs, becoming a bit frustrated with you. "Would it kill you to give me one clear answer today, sweetheart?"

"No, it wouldn't." You say, hesitating to make a real decision on the matter. But he doesn't say anything else, he just waits for you to tell him exactly what you want. "Alright. Don't say it anymore." You say finally, barely louder than a mumble.

"Now, was that so hard?" He questions you one last time, but he's much less irritated now.

"You have no idea, Eds." You say honestly, a small weight lifting off your shoulders all the same.

"Ugh, what am I gonna do with you?" He chuckles, burying his head in your chest.

"I dunno, Eds. Marry me? Throw me off a cliff? It's up to you." You giggle, lowering a hand to stroke his hair.

"Hm, tough choice there, sweetheart..." He quips, though you both know what his real choice would be. He doesn't say another word, but he hums lightly at your fingers massaging his scalp. You settle into each other, enjoying the comfortable silence while keeping one another close. You don't fall asleep again, but it's nice to just be together in the same space for a while. Arwen hops onto the bed to join you, curling up beside your pile of limbs. You both give her some pets, earning her coveted purring and happy mewing sounds. You put out your cig once it's finished, and set the ashtray back onto the table. Mom will surely have a fit for you two smoking in your room, but you honestly don't care right now.

"Alright, you two. It's almost 3pm, it's time to get up." Mom says as she waltzes into your room. She doesn't even bother to knock, which you find a bit rude. She finds you and Eddie cuddled up in your messy blankets, which are barely covering Eddie's ass and your bare chest. "Looks like you two had quite a night." She giggles at the sight of your disheveled hair and bedding.

"Sounded like it, too!" Dustin calls as he leaves his own room to head out for his shift.

"Oh, hush up, Dusty!" Mom chides him while he walks down the hall. "I'm guessing you're both hungry?" She asks cheekily.

"You have no idea, Claudia." Eddie answers, rolling over to sit upright. The covers almost slip to expose his lower half to her. Luckily, he catches them in his hand, nervously clearing his throat afterwards.

"Well, I made chicken pot pies for lunch, if you want some." She offers.

"That sounds great, Mom. You mind giving us a minute to get dressed first?" You ask, wishing she'd learn what the meaning of the word 'privacy' is. You've got to set the apartment hunt into motion as soon as possible.

"Oh! Of course! Sorry for intruding!" She chortles, turning to leave the room. She suddenly stops, sniffing the air. She gasps, facing you again. "Did you two smoke in here?!" Mom asks, crossing her arms.

"It was just once, Mom! I'll spray some pine shit in here or something! Now, get out of my room, please!" You whine loudly like a petulant child. Would it kill her to get off your case one fucking time?

"Alright, alright! Jeez, someone's cranky when they're hungry." She puts her hands up defensively, and quickly leaves the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

"I'm guessing you wanna look for apartments in the paper today, don't you?" Eddie questions, not needing to look at your face to know how much Claudia barging in has set you off.

"Yep. I cannot wait for the day where that never happens again." You say flatly, trying your best to not be in a bad mood for the second time today.

To be continued...

[sidespart]

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough. 

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan 

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning. 

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman. 

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder. 

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

 Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time) 

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back. 

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound. 

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned  into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit. 

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff. 

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

 So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE)  from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ‘all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor. 

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling:  “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly. 

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton. 

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc,  and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just  Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue. 

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ. 

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

[pckarchives]

beneath the cut , you’ll find random tidbits of info that i thought up at unholy hours of the night. took all day but tbh ..... this was therapy. i really said, “i’ll make my own damn self happy,” and it shows.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟏.     ›     alicia marie levesque boyd-whitley.

► hobbies ➔ painting and decoration, primarily. for the most part, this is due to the nostalgia of doing it with her moms. she’s not awful at it, but she’s not van gogh levels of good, either. it’s just for fun, as all things should be. she’s also incredibly creative, so things like renovation ideas come easy to her. she did ballet for several years, but dropped it before she moved to beacon hills. ► social media handles ➔ she’s aleesha on just about everything. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ mostly conventional, with a series of emojis attached to every name. ► favorite color ➔ green. but sea foam-ish green. ► favorite video game ➔ animal crossing new horizons. she’s a simple bitch; she sees cute animals, she plays the damn game. ► favorite song ➔ style by taylor swift. ► favorite scent ➔ pumpkin spice! not to be totally cliché, but that scent is unbeatable. she has a million candles with that scent alone. ► favorite band/artist ➔ taylor swift, of course. ► favorite place to be ➔ nana’s house! ► favorite season ➔ winter! she had so much fun with lucy over this past winter and if that’s the way lucy acts every year for christmas, then alicia looks forward to it! ► favorite word ➔ squishy. ► favorite meme ➔ maybe so.gif ► if they were an animal ➔ cheetah! ► if they were a color ➔ beige. no longer the pure white she once was, but not the tar pit that she could have been, either. a beautiful mixture of purities and imperfections. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *going through the five stages of grief* HHHHHHHHH !!!!! someone just slid in my dms and *voice cracking* this is what they said.... *sobbing* gIRL.... *sniffle* HNNNNNN..... you should sell hoT DOGs.... ‘cause you know how to make a weiner stand. hNNNNNN.... HNNNNN!!!!!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ shake it off. ► aesthetic ➔ paint-stained overalls, tear tracks covered in glitter and flower petals, crooked fingers snagging the last slice of pizza out the box, thick-framed glasses with the lens popped out, it’s for the aesthetic, sharpie’d converse kicks and open hearts doodled onto the palm of your hand –– darling girl, someone will really love you one day. ► motto ➔ “it really do be like that sometimes.” ► theme song ➔ lights up by harry styles.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟐.     ›     amari rose kent.

► hobbies ➔ writing, mostly out of spite. in middle school, she had a meeting with the principal, during which he told her she was at risk of being expelled, due to how many teachers had issues with her. this was the same principal who told her she would never get anywhere, hanging off of tate’s coattails, so she wrote a 50-page paper in the span of one week, shaming the school for its discrimination and unethical practices when it came to students. instead of giving the paper to the principal, she submitted it to the board of education and got the man fired. not only did the essay make it onto local news, it also got her a scholarship to devenford prep; lucky, since tatum had already been offered a scholarship and was on the verge of turning it down because she wouldn’t go without amari. though she hasn’t spitefully written anything that huge since, she is still not afraid to thinkshame. also dabbles in poetry and collage-making. ► social media handles ➔ amari_rose on twitter and instagram. she surprisingly does not have a snapchat! ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. at best, she’s giving nicknames. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ she doesn’t play video games, so she doesn’t know. ► favorite song ➔ bad guy by billie eilish. ► favorite scent ➔ not to kinkshame, but.... leather. ► favorite band/artist ➔ billie eilish, she is not ashamed! ► favorite place to be ➔ wherever tate and owen are, honestly. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ bullshit. ► favorite meme ➔ thA’TS MY OPINION !!!! ► if they were an animal ➔ panther. ► if they were a color ➔ silver. black is a hard color to obtain and she hardly comes close. she’s got all the darkness she doesn’t need, but the world put that in her. still, she’s close to light, too; close to breathing in sunlight. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ to the mIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHER –– yes, YOU, you know who you are –– who said EYE would never be shit, LOOK AT ME NOW, WHORE ! LOOK AT ME NOW .... not shit. and HOW YOU LIKE IT ? *twerks belligerently* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔  sad beautiful tragic. ► aesthetic ➔ messily chopped hair in the bathroom sink, tongue poked out to lick ketchup off of nimble fingers, rushed words in a lost diary, a bottle drifting out at sea, cigarette smoke and tequila-coated daydreams, harsh breaths in and out and in and out, bruised knuckles and bleeding lips, we’re not done here. ► motto ➔ “chin up, chest out.” ► theme song ➔ all the good girls go to hell by billie eilish. alternatively, kiwi by harry styles.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟑.     ›     camden wesley layton lahey.

► hobbies ➔ he took up woodworking a few years back. therapy and whatnot. he likes making little birds and figurines out of wood, keeps a box of them in his nightstand. ► social media handles ➔ he’s not on social media! he’s old, leave him alone. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ very conventional. again, he’s old, leave him! ► favorite color ➔ grassy green. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s always going to be a sucker for mario party. that game is unfairly frustrating, but he would ride or die for it. ► favorite song ➔ i of the storm by of monsters and men. ► favorite scent ➔ peppermint! it used to make him sick, because it’s such a strong smell, but it’s now his absolute favorite thing in the world. ► favorite band/artist ➔ gorillaz. ► favorite place to be ➔ he honestly prefers closed spaces? tight spaces where he can see every corner, every entrance, every exit, every tile on the floor. whenever he starts panicking, he will sneak away to the nearest closet or something. ► favorite season ➔ spring. rebirth, babyyy. ► favorite word ➔ dammit. ► favorite meme ➔ it’s free real estate. ► if they were an animal ➔ german shepard. ► if they were a color ➔ light pink. this strange mix between the pure white of being a blank slate and the awful red of having spilled more blood than he can even remember. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ AWWWWWWW 😍😍 awww, i’m gonna die alone 🤗🤗🤗 awww !!! i’m never gonna know what it’s like to be LOVED, AWWWWWW !!!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ holy ground. ► aesthetic ➔ sweat-dotted skin, racing heart, jingling dog tags, checking the locks on the door once and then again and then again and once more just to be sure, hesitant hands and wet eyes, a smile that’s easy even when nothing else is, sunlight pouring in through a cracked window, a step closer to an answer, five steps back. ► motto ➔ “sure, jan.” ► theme song ➔ clint eastwood by gorillaz.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟒.     ›     charles gerard argent.

► hobbies ➔ someone should tell him that working out isn’t a personality trait, but it really is his hobby. your depression can’t catch up to you, if you’re getting these gainz. ► social media handles ➔ he’s charliecharlie on everything, because he’s funny. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ it used to be creative, but man, that depression hit him hard and he switched to conventional. ► favorite color ➔ white. ► favorite video game ➔ fortnite, shut the fuck up, liam, he doesn’t want to hear it. ► favorite song ➔ perfect ruin by kwabs. ► favorite scent ➔ salt water. ► favorite band/artist ➔ clairo. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the beach. he takes frequent drives up to the closest beach, ► favorite season ➔ summer. beach time! all the time! ► favorite word ➔ yeet. ► favorite meme ➔ y E E T. ► if they were an animal ➔ raven. ► if they were a color ➔ a myriad of colors; there are so many facets to charlie and until he figures out exactly where he is in life, he’s going to keep creating a puddle of colors. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *dancing and singing to the tune of under the sea* ptsd 🤪 anxiety 🤪 crippling depression, there is no question, you should kill me !! let me be with HARAMBE 😤✊ i feel like shit every day ! i’m asking nicely, do it by drowning, under da sea 🌊🌊 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ getaway car. ► aesthetic ➔ that damnable water’s edge, the view from the top of a mountain, gnawed fingernails and scraped skin, 11:11 and back again, holstered knives and picturesque smiles, droplets of blood spilled into cold coffee, palm grazing the door to happiness but not quite opening it yet ––– another day and you might just make it. ► motto ➔ “que ce sang protège ceux qui ne peuvent se protéger.” ► theme song ➔ broken bones by kaleo.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟓.     ›     cora vienna hale.

► hobbies ➔ lowkey has a love of mechanics. she doesn’t trust anyone else to repair her bike, so she learned how to do it herself. also learned how to fix cars, because scott is always messing his up. also still plays soccer when she has the time. ► social media handles ➔ she’s just corahale on everything. it’s more “professional” than what she had before. which was... a series of expletives that made lydia blush. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, unless she really hates you. then she can get creative. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ detroit: become human. ► favorite song ➔ hold on just a little while longer from d:bh. luther snapped. ► favorite scent ➔ pinecones. ► favorite band/artist ➔ bryson tiller. ► favorite place to be ➔ the hale house. it feels good to be able to go there again and not be assaulted with all of the reminders of what she lost. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ buttercup. look her in the eye and tell her it’s not the cutest word you’ve ever heard. exactly, you can’t. ► favorite meme ➔ looks into the camera like she’s on the office. ► if they were an animal ➔ lion. ► if they were a color ➔ gold. pure and beautiful; maybe not innocent, maybe not for everyone. but royal and bold and unrelenting. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ sO... .i just went to starbucks and i got my iced coffee and i was standing in line and these little girls were looking at me. *sniff* and i was like, “okay, funny joke.” so i, um, i’m s–– i’m waiting for my coffee, uh, at starbucks, and these other little girls were just, like, LOOKING AT ME and they kept on staring and then this DAD kept on looking and then he kept on staring. and *uncomfortable laughter* ....... *more laughter* ..... *turns on music* *keeps laughing* *turns music off* what kind of sick fucking joke ? .... *uncomfortable shrugging* ...i EXIST ? *more laughter* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ clean. ► aesthetic ➔ a horrid red fire meets a river of blue, gasoline stains on faded tees, an unexpected smile on a rainy day, the way the forest breathes after a rainstorm, skintight dresses and haughty gazes, a smirk that rests for no one, the innocence of a white wolf in a prom dress. ► motto ➔ “flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo.” ► theme song ➔ big god by florence and the machine. alt. the man by taylor swift.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟔.     ›     daniel nahele mahealani.

► hobbies ➔ he no longer loves hacking or music, because... whew, high school killed everything he cared about. mostly sticks to being lydia’s dress up doll. ► social media handles ➔ he’s d-annyboy on all things, because it’s easy! ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, unless he’s trying to hide something from jackson and lydia. lydia is not afraid to go through his phone, which he genuinely doesn’t mind, that’s why she knows all of his passwords and stuff. but he does not need her to know how many guys he’s fucked that she didn’t like, he’s not here for the lectures. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ wii sports still outsells, he is not taking criticism or debate on this topic. ► favorite song ➔ magic in the hamptons by social house. ► favorite scent ➔ hot chocolate. ► favorite band/artist ➔ childish gambino. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the risk of being gay, wherever theo is. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. ► favorite word ➔ pack. he loves feeling loved, sue him. ► favorite meme ➔ kermit spreading his asshole. ► if they were an animal ➔ elephant. ► if they were a color ➔ orange; just on the cusp of happiness, but always holding back. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ hEY GUYS, i’m just really co–– really confused, ‘cause what does fall have to do with fuckboys 🧐🤔 ‘cause I’VE been fucking boys .... EVERY MONTH, winter, fucking februarymarchaprilmay, june, december... dULY ... *someone taps on the trunk of the car* *looks back* ...that’s my dad *frantic zoom-in* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ afterglow. ► aesthetic ➔ scar-littered skin and callused hands, abandoned hobbies and hopes and dreams, all stashed to the back of the infamous closet, dimples cheeked and optimistic eyes, high school jerseys folded in the drawer, letterman jackets treated like sacrosanct, the memory of when things were simpler and the rain didn’t last so long.  ► motto ➔ “this could be worse.” ► theme song ➔ clementine by halsey.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟕.     ›     derek alexander hale.

► hobbies ➔ book collecting. as their lives continue to not make sense, he collects books on any and every odd ‘myth’ out there and just waits for the day it comes in handy. ► social media handles ➔ lydia has made him dhale on everything, because he’s boring. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ very conventional. he now has a lock on every app in his phone, because fiona and lydia will happily break into his phone to change his contacts, if he’s not careful. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ he doesn’t often play video games, but he will school these youngsters in a game of yahtzee! ► favorite song ➔ when doves cry by prince. ► favorite scent ➔ something baking in the oven. ► favorite band/artist ➔ prince. no, he is not talking about it. ► favorite place to be ➔ the hale house, when the entire pack is there. close second is the loft, when everyone is there. he’ll complain until he’s blue in the face, but everyone knows he’s secretly weak for that. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ no. ► favorite meme ➔ blinking white guy. ► if they were an animal ➔ i... a wolf. ► if they were a color ➔ tree bark brown; steady and stern and stable. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *standing at the bathroom door, glaring* if it breaks. one more time. don’t ––– shut your mouth. if it breaks while i’m sleeping, i will grab you by the neck and shove you down the shower drain. *continues to glare* ......... i’m going to take my shower now. *slowly and threateningly closes the door* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ daylight. ► aesthetic ➔ shattered handcuffs, ashes spread across the floor, delayed inhales and painful exhales, a pool of flowers at your feet ––– begin again. ► motto ➔ “no.” ► theme song ➔ sinnerman by nina simone.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟖.     ›     dominic joseph kim.

► hobbies ➔ yoga, meditation, brewery, skin and haircare routines, and swimming! a king stays busy. ► social media handles ➔ he’s domkimi on snapchat, instagram and twitter, but he’s baddiebbarbietingz on reddit. he has a tumblr account, but he refuses to tell the pack what his username is. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative. feel free to look through his phone, but good fucking luck figuring out who is who. ► favorite color ➔ gold. ► favorite video game ➔ sims 4. he gets the chance to actually build a sustainable life? with a family? in a house? with cheat codes? and love? and aliens? and lovers who become plants? sign him the fuck up. ► favorite song ➔ would you mind by prettymuch. good form by nicki minaj is a close runner-up. ‘cause he do, in fact, be the baddie b barbie tingz banging body b, everybody be on his d, cause he gotta be in reality–– ► favorite scent ➔ pizza! if it’s not good for you, why does it smell so good? make it make sense. ► favorite band/artist ➔ prettymuch. ► favorite place to be ➔ tate’s lab! it’s where he and owen do most of their brewing, aside from their field trips to the greenhouse to get more ingredients. it’s basically where dominic does his best and calmest work. close second is his own apartment, because he does yoga in the living room each morning. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ cecelia. ► favorite meme ➔ who said that.gif. ► if they were an animal ➔ a turtle! specifically, one of the turtles from finding nemo. ► if they were a color ➔ blue. calm and collected. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ so i said i’m a switch on tiktok, right ? and now all these ladies are comin’ out of the woodwork like, “hey, i got a strap-on and a dog collar with your name on it ! ” 😳😳 and i’m like... you put my name on it ? 😍👉👈  /// alternatively: theee necklace my boyfriend bought me just came in the mail *zoom in on necklace* ....I’M my boyfriend ! i bought this for myself ! EEE *excited grin* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ style. ► aesthetic ➔ the push and pull of a tidal wave, a dash of eyeliner here and a bit of mascara there, collared shirts and wrinkled jeans, overrated pop over a bluetooth speaker, a fascination with milkshakes and musicals, a heart that beats out of rhythm but never misses a step. ► motto ➔ “the birds work for the bourgeoisie.” ► theme song ➔ good thing by zedd and kehlani.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟗.     ›     elliot james aldridge.

► hobbies ➔ aside from his bathtub poetry and crime, he has revived his love of cooking and music. is masterful at the piano, guitar and harp, dabbles in cello and flute. he likes his music pretty, okay, sue him. ► social media handles ➔ redacted by the fcc. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ depends on how much he likes you! if you’re kosher, you get a creative name. if not... you get your own name. ► favorite color ➔ blood red. unironically. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s a poker man, but if he has to choose a video game, meet him in super smash brothers. ► favorite song ➔ say so by doja cat. ► favorite scent ➔ blood. ► favorite band/artist ➔ hozier. ► favorite place to be ➔ no offense, but the french quarter in new orleans. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ self-care. ► favorite meme ➔ why would you say something so controversial, yet so brave? ► if they were an animal ➔ hyena. one of the asshole ones from lion king. ► if they were a color ➔ red. he’s not hiding that. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’mnotfallingi’mnotfallingi’mnotfalling, i’m not f a l l i n g, i’m not FALLING, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not fALLING....... !! *deep breath* oKAY, i’m falling. /// alternative: the oNLY reason i have not destroyed the world is because i have not had ice cream in a while, i want some ice cream. but tRUST ME, when i get some ice cream ? your ass is grass and i’m the lawn mower ! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ ready for it? ► aesthetic ➔ a hoop of sterling silver, initials carved into dying trees, tempting eyes and a charming smile, cufflinks left on the nightstand, a prison cell and a funny story, top three buttons left undone, far too aware for his own damn good. ► motto ➔ "excuse me, i'm new in town and it gets worse." ► theme song ➔ sunlight by hozier.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟎.     ›     erica juliet reyes.

► hobbies ➔ tracking deucalion and peter, for one thing, but that’s more of a job than anything else. does raving count as a hobby? she’s officially taken up rock climbing, by the way. a huge slap in the face to her epilepsy. ► social media handles ➔ she changes her handles frequently, because she’s indecisive, she can’t decide–– but she’s currently reyofsunshine on everything. shoutout to fiona. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative and often explicit! ► favorite color ➔ sand brown, don’t @ her. ► favorite video game ➔ until dawn. understand the palm of my hand, bitch.... jesus hot sauce christmas cake.... what were you tweeting, hashtag there’s a freaking ghost after us? your fave could never! ► favorite song ➔ hot girl bummer by blackbear. ► favorite scent ➔ lucy or fee’s baking. she’ll come home just for that. ► favorite band/artist ➔ blackbear. ► favorite place to be ➔ at a party. she’s very into raves. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ motherfucker. ► favorite meme ➔ respect the drip, karen. ► if they were an animal ➔ a horse. enticingly beautiful but will also kill you. ► if they were a color ➔ gold. not as pure as cora’s gold, but twice as inviting. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ all i’m gonna say is that i didn’t take ap classes in high school, escape the friend zone, graduate with honors, get cheated on, go to college, mentally deteriorate, become addicted to nicotine, sign a year lease, drop a sorority, fail chemistry and dye my hair purple, just to cry over the frat boy leaving me on read that smokes weed for breakfast, lunch and dinner 💁🏼 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ false god. ► aesthetic ➔ push-up bras covered in black lace, smeared lipstick against the bathroom mirror, jeans that leave nothing to the imagination, a wolf that lies in wait and fears no god, the epitome of poison. ► motto ➔ “meanwhile, back at the ranch...” ► theme song ➔ needed me by rihanna.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟏.     ›     fiona evelyn porter.

► hobbies ➔ baking, pinterest, cheer, volleyball and softball. truly depends on the season. ► social media handles ➔ feezypeezyporter stays true to her brand. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative! her contact ids are indecipherable, the only people who can understand them are katie and cass. dom gave up. ► favorite color ➔ light green and light pink! ► favorite video game ➔ beat saber! ► favorite song ➔ love again by carly rae jepsen. ► favorite scent ➔ is.... is it gay to say cass? ► favorite band/artist ➔ carly rae jepsen. ► favorite place to be ➔ the loft! it really is her happiest place. alternatively, wherever cass is, ‘cause that’s home, babey! ► favorite season ➔ spring! baby sticks to her brand. ► favorite word ➔ braggadocio. how on EARTH is that a real word? ► favorite meme ➔ let me see what you have. a kNIFE! NO! ► if they were an animal ➔ cardinal. ► if they were a color ➔ green. the color of grass, covering everything, everything, everything. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *crying and sipping tea* it... is ver .... very b... bold of you to assume ............. ! *pained smile*  /// alternatively: ONE OF YOU FAT BITCHES UNFOLLOWED ME !!! *manic laughter* i’m not mad, but like...... *climbs onto bathroom sink and leans in very close* what was the last straw ? ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ me! ► aesthetic ➔ bare lips passing over green leaves, a lullaby to a struggling orchid, spanks and sweat drops and a desperate need for approval, a digital scale blinking red numbers back at you, pills of white and blue and yellow, maybe tomorrow you’ll be happy again. ► motto ➔ “team work makes the dream work!” ► theme song ➔ work this out from the high school musical 2 soundtrack.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟐.     ›     hayden louisa romero.

► hobbies ➔ she has a love of sports. got into lacrosse before her imprisonment, though she was a little too fragile to play a real game. was a soccer star as a kid. also puts on glamour shows for the kids and the dogs, if they ask. ► social media handles ➔ she doesn’t have social media. imprisonment tingz. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. at best, you get an emoji or two at the end of your name. ► favorite color ➔ ocean blue. ► favorite video game ➔ will forever be weak for pokémon. ► favorite song ➔ 1985 by bowling for soup. timeless. ► favorite scent ➔ french vanilla. ► favorite band/artist ➔ she’s getting into melanie martinez. ► favorite place to be ➔ bias goes to being with the ito pack, but the preserve is pretty much paradise. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ covenant. ► favorite meme ➔ and i oop––– ► if they were an animal ➔ manta ray. harmless babey. ► if they were a color ➔ prism clear. a maze of reflections, but so fucking breakable. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ you mess with ME ? w ..... ! y...... ! *vague hand movements* you probably aren’t gonna experience any problems, because i’m afraid of confrontation !! /// alternative: *struggling to place lamp inside of another lamp* i JUST TOOK A TEN HOUR NAP ??? *panic* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ it’s nice to have a friend. ► aesthetic ➔ scars lifted among tanned skin, wary glances to read every room, crop tops floating above your belly, a lack of cares for a world that cares a little too much, marked skin and glossed lips, wanna make a deal with an angel? ► motto ➔ “my priority is me.” ► theme song ➔ i know by pink sweat$.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟑.     ›     judith wendy mayer-argent.

► hobbies ➔ biking! she does it primarily for work, but she also does it for fun. also, huge gamer. and protestor. baby keeps busy. ► social media handles ➔ mayerjude. she can make so many jokes out of her own last name, don’t tempt her. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative! unless it’s someone important or authoritative. then they get their own name. ► favorite color ➔ sunshine yellow. ► favorite video game ➔ fornite. ► favorite song ➔ sunday candy by donnie trumpet and the social experiment. ► favorite scent ➔ cupcakes! the frosting! the delicacy! ► favorite band/artist ➔ maroon 5. ► favorite place to be ➔ in the middle of a protest, rally or march. if she’s not in action, then what is she doing? ► favorite season ➔ spring. ► favorite word ➔ audit. ► favorite meme ➔ surprised pikachu. ► if they were an animal ➔ dolphin. ► if they were a color ➔ sunset orange. no, i will not elaborate. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *walking down the street* so we were peer reviewing papers in one of my classes aaaand this girl goes, “you use some FANCY LANGUAGE ! ” and i was like, “what word ? ” and she was like, “perpetuate.” .........on GOD, we gon’ get you a dictionary. ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ don’t blame me. ► aesthetic ➔ sunflowers pushing up from freshly dug graves, a smile away to keep the doctors away, sprained wrists wrapped in inappropriate laughter, bruised knuckles and black eyes, drink in hand, swinging your hips to that voicemail left by your toxic ex-boyfriend. ► motto ➔ “just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...” ► theme song ➔ modern love by david bowie.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟒.     ›     kali kaira laghari.

► hobbies ➔ knitting. she has abandoned all of her self-care and therapy ideals, now knits and talks to ghosts. mind ya business. ► social media handles ➔ she’s not on social media, either. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. she has no times for games. ► favorite color ➔ red. she’s a scorpio, what do you expect? ► favorite video game ➔ not to be controversial, but she’ll take mortal kombat any day. ► favorite song ➔ nintendo game by alessia cara. ► favorite scent ➔ tea! ► favorite band/artist ➔ alessia cara. ► favorite place to be ➔ aside from wherever rohan is, she prefers the bookstore. confrontations aside, it’s a very small space, quiet and relaxing. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ goddess. and yes, for exactly the reason you think. ► favorite meme ➔ as a treat. ► if they were an animal ➔ scorpion. ► if they were a color ➔ smoky grey. everything’s a little hazy with this one. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *staring at the food on the table, slowly losing her mind while everyone else argues over murder* *holds head in hands* *bangs hands on table repeatedly, screaming* WHAT ARE WE THANKFUL FOR !!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ i did something bad. ► aesthetic ➔ cross-legged sitting in the middle of the road, waiting for a new thrill, fingertips grazing the harsh blade beneath your skirt, popcorn and wine with a man you could’ve loved if you were both a little less fucked up, a question that should never be answered, a world-view that should never be defiled –––– and you did it all. ► motto ➔ “i don’t need permission or advice; just help.” ► theme song ➔ simmer by hayley williams. you should see me in a crown by billie eilish.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟓.     ›     kira fuyuko yukimura.

► hobbies ➔ she trains to keep herself calm. often talks with her fox nowadays; she wants to build trust. and given that kira is doing fuck all to deal with her issues, she needs someone to talk to her. she and her fox get along a lot better these days. she also runs, practices lacrosse maneuvers on her own and plays with lightbulbs.  ► social media handles ➔ she’s a simple woman: kyuki. cut the fluff, cut the extraness. also, kyuki is what she’s named her fox.  ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, save for people who warrant a creative one. aka those whose names she doesn’t know. you would be surprised at how many there are. ► favorite color ➔ purple. ► favorite video game ➔ also a fan of animal crossing! ► favorite song ➔ ahead of myself by the ambassadors. ► favorite scent ➔ cinnamon. ► favorite band/artist ➔ the ambassadors. ► favorite place to be ➔ it’s dorky to say, but she likes being with her parents! they’re still in new york, so she doesn’t get that chance as much. however, her second favorite place to be is.... her bed. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. ► favorite word ➔ poppy. ► favorite meme ➔ guess i’ll die.png ► if they were an animal ➔ truly a fox. ► if they were a color ➔ steel blue. baby is electric. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i might be a BIG, DUMB, GAY BITCH ................ !! *smirks at camera* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ cruel summer. ► aesthetic ➔ a thunderstorm in your bedroom, leather gloves pulled over dainty hands, quick footwork and sly gazes, untied shoe laces dragging across the floor, leggings beneath skirts, quiet meditation before bed, sharp teeth poking into bruised lips. ► motto ➔ “yeah, this isn’t weird at all.” ► theme song ➔ fall in line by christina aguilera and demi lovato.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟔.     ›     liam stephen dunbar.

► hobbies ➔ lacrosse no longer counts as a hobby, considering he made it his entire life. does training with allison count as a hobby? does texting gwen bad jokes count? ‘cause that’s all he does, my guy. ► social media handles ➔ he’s dvnbcr on everything. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, until fiona gets her hands on his phone and changes his ids again. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s that guy who plays all of the 2k nba games. like, he has to stan. ► favorite song ➔ i don’t care by fall out boy. ► favorite scent ➔ turf. he’s a loser, what do you expect? ► favorite band/artist ➔ fall out boy and kendrick lamar are tied. ► favorite place to be ➔ the lacrosse field. he does not stray from his brand. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. lax season! ► favorite word ➔ shit. fuck is a close runner-up. ► favorite meme ➔ i’ve won.... but at what cost? ► if they were an animal ➔ rhinoceros.  ► if they were a color ➔ gray; that perfect intersection between white and black, good and bad, wolf and bomb. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *talking to his mom while she’s watching tv.* hey, mom? will you pause that? you know that guy i’m talking to is 6′4″? can’t wait to get my shit wrecked. so you are a bottom. ...wait. okay, i.... that’s not what you’re supposed to say! what am i supposed to say? don’t –– not that! *goes to sit next to her* i’m 👏 not 👏 a 👏 bottom 👏. bullshit. *confused look of betrayal* is this legal? have you ever done anything for anybody else? no, you’re a taker. /// alternatively: *trying to start a fire* hope so ! you gonna let the fire breathe or you gonna fuckin’ suffocate it ? i will end your goddamn short ass piece of shit useless life. ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ this is why we can’t have nice things. ► aesthetic ➔ a rage that you can never quite tame, hand broken from too many punches, the green of fresh cut grass, car mileage piling up, miles and miles and miles left to go, bashful smiles and reddened skin. kid, you’re not nearly as bad as you think you are. ► motto ➔ “i blame scott.” ► theme song ➔ dr. whoever by aminé.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟕.     ›     lydia charlene martin.

► hobbies ➔ sewing clothes, throwing parties, picking up new languages, ruling the world, saving this pack from falling apart, doing everything in this goddamn house! ► social media handles ➔ queenlydia, but who’s surprised? ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ convention meets creativity in lydia’s phone. everyone has their first name, with a lord/lady/duke/duchess/etc. attached to it. jackson is the only one with king, obviously. you know you’re in trouble when she attaches peasant to your name. good luck climbing your way back up the ladder. ► favorite color ➔ pink. ► favorite video game ➔ not to be controversial, but dead by daylight is that bitch. ► favorite song ➔ honey by kesha. ► favorite scent ➔ strawberries. ► favorite band/artist ➔ kesha. ► favorite place to be ➔ in jackson’s arms, she is not taking that back. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ throne and jackson are tied. ► favorite meme ➔ why are you booing me? i’m right! ► if they were an animal ➔ swan. ► if they were a color ➔ purple. royalty is not a game, kids. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ not a vine or tiktok, but yes, it’s me 💅🏽 & you guys are mad about it ohmygod i make y’all feel that 🤢 well, i just wanted to pop up here & show y'all how i'm doing ! i'm doing great. i'm looking great, i'm feeling great, y'know 💇🏽 i'm obviously over here very booked & busy, while you bitches over here are still looking raggedy & not doing shit ! hahaha ! WOW ! 💁🏽 but anyway, um, i just wanted to let y'all know i'm not going anywhere. so talk your shit, you shitholes ! you can't defeat a bad bitch ! you just cannot do that ! i rise above that ! EW 🤮 so i just wanted to say hey ! & that i'm here to stayyy ! & you gon' be mad everydayyy ! HAHAHA ! SUCCESS ! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ paper rings. ► aesthetic ➔ a crown that fits just perfect, newly manicured nails, breakfasts at tiffany’s and on decorated balconies, the picture on the altar, damp curls and loose braids, tight dresses and sinful heels, brave but never fearless. ► motto ➔ “i’m lydia fucking martin.” ► theme song ➔ okay, okay by alessia cara.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟖.     ›     scott lucas mccall.

► hobbies ➔ video games! he also likes helping the pack renovate whenever they decide to. though he has put fiona on a limit. after she redesigned her room five times in two weeks, he finally had to put his foot down. ► social media handles ➔ he is the most disorganized of the bunch. he’s scootermccall on snapchat, scottymccall on instagram, scotthewmccall on twitter because he’s weak for whatever fiona asks. it’s a mess, but he’s not changing. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, but with lots of emojis to show he cares. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ he wants to say mario kart, because that’s his and lucy’s thing and, um, he’s in love with her. but other than that! life is strange. he hasn’t figured out how to win yet, but gosh dammit, that’s not going to stop him from trying.  ► favorite song ➔ dna by lia marie johnson. ► favorite scent ➔ lucy’s perfume! ► favorite band/artist ➔ panic! at the disco. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the vet! he’s so happy when he’s around animals and it feels good to know that he’s helping these animals get better? ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ lucy. ► favorite meme ➔ i’ll be honest, i can’t read. ► if they were an animal ➔ golden retriever. ► if they were a color ➔ yellow. speaks for itself. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i had an essay that was due at 11:59. instead of being a smart, responsible student, i decided to wait until 11:40 .... to START my essay. i finished the essay on time. but the gag is............. it was a five-page essay. and i got it done in sixteen minutes. *dancing* they gon’ hate me regardless, that’s why i do what i do ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ state of grace. ► aesthetic ➔ a lighthouse drawing in the lost, the open door of a sunken ship, wrongly buttoned plaid shirts, clumsy fingers and stumbling feet, saddened eyes that follow healing hands, the suspension of disbelief ––– whatever that means. ► motto ➔ “everything will work out!” ► theme song ➔ only the young by taylor swift.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟗.     ›     tatum coretta bellfleur.

► hobbies ➔ nanotech mechanics! she learned as a way to make things for owen and amari that they couldn’t afford to buy. won a few competitions, got a few scholarships, got into programs that taught her how to do greater things than she’d ever imagined. took up baton twirling at devenford, but gave it up when she got to college. fiona is trying to convince her take it up again next year. ► social media handles ➔ she’s tatertot on everything, courtesy of one judith mayer. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. keep it simple, thanks. ► favorite color ➔ silver! it’s so pretty. ► favorite video game ➔ death stranding. no, she will not elaborate. ► favorite song ➔ mo money mo problems by notorious b.i.g.  ► favorite scent ➔ flowers! ► favorite band/artist ➔ tupac. yes, she is that bitch. ► favorite place to be ➔ her lab. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ free. ► favorite meme ➔ you know i had to do it to ‘em. ► if they were an animal ➔ doe. ► if they were a color ➔ white. no matter how much she hates being protected, she’s the picture of purity. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *sitting in front of a mirror.* maybe.......... i’m the problem 🤨 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ out of the woods. ► aesthetic ➔ a blanket of snow covering the grime and pain of yesterday, contained explosions and soft humming, tight ponytails breaking cheap rubber bands, tongue poking out the side of your mouth, the sun peeking through the slits of your blinds, wondering where you’ve been these last couple’a days. ► motto ➔ “i’ve lived through this before, i’ll live through it again.” ► theme song ➔ 100 years by florence and the machine.

[artinterviewmagazine]

Conversation With Taj Bourgeois On Selling Their Paintings Online For A Living

Marius Larsson: So first of all how long have you been selling paintings? About 2 years now? Taj Bourgeois: Yeah I quit my job driving taxi in December so a little over 2 years. I had a week where I made negative $70 and that was that. I had to do something different. ML: What made you think you could make it as an artist, and how did you initially get started? TB: I didn’t think I could make it lol, but also felt like it might be my last chance to give it my all. If I didn’t at least try once in my life I was concerned I’d feel like a hypocrite if I were to tell my daughter to follow her dreams. Pretty much I just posted on Facebook “Would anyone like to commission a painting?”. I got five responses, one of which was for $600. Honestly I don’t know if I would’ve felt the drive to commit if it weren’t for that, but also my strategy was and has been basically to just make paintings everyday, so people would see I was taking it seriously and in turn take me seriously. ML: And had you been painting much prior? TB: I had made like 7 or 8 paintings in the months leading up to it, so people were aware what I was getting into and I guess displaying some level of skill. Prior to that I hadn’t really painted since around the time my daughter was born in 2012. ML: What kinds of things did you start off painting? TB: In 2012 or in the months before doing it full time? ML: Tell me about 2012, why you took a break for 4 years and then what got you back into it in 2016. TB: When I found out I was going to be a father I had been in college for just a couple semesters taking random art classes. I was just there for the school loans... ya know.. didn’t want to get a job. Anyway I was in a painting class, and it was pretty much my first time painting. I watched the Basquiat documentary “The Radiant Child”, and it made me think about painting in a very different way. A few months after my daughter was born and I won a couple awards for paintings I did for the college’s annual art show. Then I enrolled at the Pacific Northwest College of Art for the Fall semester, but by that point I was learning about hundreds of artist’s on my own time, and was becoming inspired to try all kinds of things other than painting. I felt I did so well that semester that I decided college wasn’t going to be a good use of time or money, so I dropped out and just followed my train of thought for the next 4 years which led back to painting. ML: How did it lead back to painting? TB: I had been driving taxi for a year and a half, and during that time I felt more and more disconnected from any of my previous modes of art making. I was pretty much sitting in the cab making memes and digital collages. Toward the end the collages I was doing started to become more refined, and I started thinking about the merits of painting the imagery I was putting together. The first thing I painted after all that time was an image of flaming goose which was a meme that had been going around. I decided to painted it very large. It was just something I thought would help test the waters again, and also something I figured I’d like to have on my wall. Of course painting a giant meme is going to get a good response online, so I did a couple more, and then painted some scenes from photos, and then from my imagination. Tried to paint the collages I had made but didn’t quite feel right to try to change their medium. ML: Ok so you had a few commissions and then what? You’d post your paintings for sale and people just kept buying them? TB: Yeah although the first 6 months were pretty rough. In April I only made $500, so I was cutting it close, but I was still in the mindset that most artists have, which is like their art has some mysterious value to it and should be expensive, but then I realized it would make more sense if I took it more seriously as a job and charge by the hour, so I started painting more small funny stuff. Like for me it made more sense to sell a bunch of little humorous $50 pieces than cross my fingers on a $300 piece cause it would take me the same amount of time to do 6 of the $50 ones. It wasn’t until around 6 months that I made my first piece that multiple people wanted, and so what I did was make it multiple times, and that’s when things started to pick up. ML: And what was that piece? TB: It was spider man on the floor of an art museum looking up at a painting of a goofy fish with a human face, and spider man is saying in a thought bubble “That Painting Looks The Way I Feel!” It was originally from an old comic and spider man had been looking at some kind of parody Picasso portrait, but you know with memes pieces get replaced, and the mood changes. The fish’s face was a better mood than the Picasso probably.

ML: How many paintings had you made by that point? TB: Around 70, but had sold maybe 20 ML: What materials were you using? TB: During the taxi days I was in the store (Fred Meyer) and saw this canvas that house painters just lay on the floor to catch the paint drips, and I was like damn 4x15ft for $13? I should get some in case I feel up to making some big paintings someday, but I have always been such a frugal person that it wasn’t until I saw the apple barrel brand paints that I was like damn ok lemme just buy a couple of every color and see if I’m into this. I also bought a gallon of white house paint to “gesso” the canvas. I still use this method on big pieces, and can always stretch later, but lately have been buying a lot of canvas already prepped and stretched. ML: So do you only sell through Facebook and Instagram? TB: Yes oddly enough that’s like 95% of sales. A few every now and then from irl shows where I live here in Portland (Oregon).

ML: I want to go back to something for a second. You mentioned you started painting in 2012, but then you won a couple awards a few months later. How old were you. How did you excel so quickly considering you said you hadn’t painted prior and what were those painting? TB: I was 24. I think painting is one of those mediums where “ability” is far more subjective than most things. You can view enough of it without trying it yourself to the point that when you do try you’ll already have a grasp of it. I have been interested in painting my whole life, so picking up the brush I already had thousands of hours of experience just thinking about it ya know, so like with that show at the college I knew I wanted to make something big and bold. So I cut myself a 4x7ft canvas and ended up making this multi-colored deer looking straight ahead with sort of hypnotic gaze. That was a people’s choice award, and the other got me a scholarship offer, but for that one I basically had just copied Twombly lol.

ML: How would you describe your style today? TB: Hmm I try not to, cause I try all kinds of stuff. I feel my technical skill level is mediocre but maybe my creative level is high? Different people are going to appreciate different things, and I’ve always been more interested in what the painting depicts over how it’s made. I mean skill aside I think most paintings are pretty umm I want to say “derivative” haha are people still using that word in serious? I’m having fun though, staying curious, and I think that comes across. What’s the point of describing my “style” anyway?

ML: I’m curious about how you view your own work. TB: I view my own work with my own eyes lol. I view my art like a loving father or maybe more like an observer, a bird watcher? No, ok I think I understand this question now. My approach to painting is often like a mix of writing, drawing, and making memes. Often I have the idea and it doesn’t really matter how I get there unless the technique is the content itself as with a lot of abstract art. Like, I will entirely base a painting on a sentence describing the image itself with little concern about how i will make it. Like “a shuriken stuck in the back of a smiling man”, so I’ll paint some sky, a fence, some grass, blue jeans, man has no shirt, shuriken, blood, he’s holding a beer, he’s smiling alright i did it… nice. That’s one way I view my work as a route to an image. I used to do this all the time before painting. I have an art book from 2015 where I used this method a lot like I’d write down ideas, and then go out and make them happen. Some elements of the end result were arbitrary although I always tried to have good composition and quality documentation. I didn’t think of myself as a photographer though I certainly was and was good at that aspect too, but it was more the means to document my performance, sculpture, installation… sentence made real. I also view a good portion of my paintings as elaborate pages ripped from children’s books that don’t exist (yet) and they’re filled with weird cute characters I never really had any intention to keep making in the first place, but I’m still doing it for some reason maybe because I like the idea of an overarching narrative, but mostly I think cause they give me a deep nostalgia for illustrations in picture books I saw as a kid or like panels from graphic novels.

ML: That answer is all over the place! I guess that’s what i get for asking such a broad question, but there’s a lot to work with there. Tell me about being a Father. You said it was kind of the catalyst to start making art. How do you think it’s affected your work? TB: Naturally it changed everything. Before my daughter was born I was just so much more aloof, timid, uncertain about making anything. I’d spend so many days just floating around “hanging out” drinking, smoking etc. Maybe I’d draw a little, write a little, play some music, but always felt like I was just killing time waiting for something to happen, and then it did. Suddenly I felt obligated to be at home most of the time, ya know, like a good dad. Other than that I was still in school making the most of it for the short time being. So for that first year I was either home with her or at school. I was just making stuff every day all the time, and it became an insatiable habit especially once I started sharing it online. Yeah honestly I felt the pressure was on. Like I had waited too long to pursue my passions so I had to make up for lost time. I’ve been addicted to making and sharing things everyday ever since. As for my daughter’s influence, yeah I love watching her grow and the things she makes inspire me as well. I’m a bit of a romantic when it comes to modern art and its mythos. I still vibe off what picasso said about how it took him his whole life to paint like a child, so I feel really grateful to work with her. I have literally thousands of her drawings stacked all over the place. She’ll sit down and do fifty drawings in an hour so I’ve gotten a white board lol. Also like I mentioned before it was kind of insane of me to quit my job to become a painter, like I have a kid, rent, bills, a car, and I’m just going to suddenly start painting happy devils to pay for all that? Well, yeah it felt like my last chance to make my dreams a reality. I just wanted to be able to say I did my best and tried to make it work, for myself, and to be a role model in that sense as well. So far so good.

ML: There seems be a big disparity between artists who make a living off their work and artists who don’t, and what I mean is that when you think of an artist making a living off their work you usually think either they have gallery representation, some kind of branding, or business making the same kinds of things again and again, and yet you seem to have been able to find some middle ground and do all of those things without a business, a degree, or a gallery. What’s it been like overall/how is it going? TB: I still got my foodstamp card haha, but to be honest things are better than ever. I don’t know I just keep at it every day. My belief has been that if I just keep making stuff the right people will notice. I’ve never submitted my work anywhere or asked for opportunities. I let them come to me. I just want to make the art not deal with the other stuff. If a big gallery wants to make money off me they most certainly will but for now I’ve just been doing small independent spaces, and cafe’s which bring in a little extra money but pretty much all my sales are online where I talk to every single person directly.  The most surprising thing has been how many people are interested given that I have less than 5,000 followers/friends. To me that’s a pretty good sign that as my reach grows so will opportunities and I’ve been going hard these past two years. I think I’m just going to be making bigger, better things as more people become interested. I don’t know any artists doing it this way or any way really. I’m not sure Portland is the place to make it happen, but god bless the internet! Getting a college degree makes no sense whatsoever except for becoming a teacher, and I think we know how that’s playing out these days, so I’m just grateful to be doing what I’m doing even though teaching would be pretty cool. Technically you don’t need a degree to teach you just need people who want to learn.

ML: One thing that seems to have helped you gain momentum is the price of your pieces. I don’t think I’ve ever followed an artist pricing their work so low that wasn’t just really kitschy stencil art or something. I see some of your pieces for $600 that I’d see in a gallery for $6,000 no doubt, but then I see a great deal of $50 pieces. What made you decide to price your work this way? Has it changed over time? TB: Yeah and it’s always the “artists” that comment on the prices being too low which is ironic cause usually all you ever hear from the average person is mocking how ridiculously high the price of art is generally. Basically I think other artist’s scoff because they’re projecting their insecurity regarding the real value of art, and maybe a little envious they can’t let go of their own pieces as though the abstract painting they made in a few hours should be worth thousands when they could be making a dozen similar pieces in a single day.  But um yeah I pretty much think of my stuff as like $30-$50 an hour and really like  that’s fucking amazing for a job. Yeah idk I have worked some shitty jobs, and it doesn’t make sense thinking that my work should be above what a person like myself can afford in the first place. When I first started though I still had the mysterious art value notion and was pricing things around $200 that I’d price $70 now, and didn’t sell much at first. It wasn’t until I started doing smaller pieces and gauging my time that I started selling a lot more and trying a lot of different things. It’s not like i’m making art specifically about making money but I can understand why people are so interested in this aspect. I don’t think it’s very common huh. When I first started I tried to justify it as a performance piece called “The Painter” haha. I used to title all sorts of things in my mind as a means to cope with the daunting reality of the situation “Working Construction”, 2014. Even during some of the lowest points I think it helped me maintain the peculiar sense of an artist identity I didn’t want to let go of even if I was letting go of everything else like “Burning All My Journals & Paintings″, 2015

ML: Haha what is that last one about? TB: Around the time I stopped living with my wife and moved into my own place I decided to not bring much along with me. I think the title is self-explanatory. ML: I’m wondering if you could talk about any reoccurring themes or characters in a lot of your paintings like the blob fish or spicy boys. TB: Ya know I think most everything just comes to me on a whim and if it works out or holds my interest I’ll keep playing with it. I guess blob fish and spicy boys are like representative of the comedy/tragedy masks or something. I think I’ve simplified a lot of themes in my paintings just so I can keep the flow going. I’m looking forward to spending more time and space on pieces in the future and elaborate on certain things I’ve wanted to express but didn’t know how to put into words. ML: How so? TB: Well, for example. Sometimes I will paint something I’ve seen in my mind, like, dreamed or hallucinated, but not often because a lot of the time I feel I can’t do it justice even though a lot of my stuff is very much informed by these things that I don’t exactly control. It’s like I take video stills from the internet except they’re from my mind, and the screenshot is something I only had to opportunity to view briefly, but even with a split second hallucination I will think about it for weeks and often will just paint its most basic components. Anyway I’m gearing toward eventually elaborating on the more complex ones because lately I have had some visions that have come to the forefront of my interest. Hopefully will get to them after a few more pet portrait commissions haha. ML: What do you mean by hallucinations? Is your inspiration mainly inspired by dreams or do you mean drugs as well? TB: Most things I just write down as interesting ideas to play with, but I guess I don’t want to get too much into talking about drugs. However there have some recent experiences I’ve had with substances like dmt and the things I saw during that I have been thinking about ever since. So right now I’m just trying to get to the end of commissions and then give my attention to some new projects. Have a show in March. Don’t know what I’ll do for it, but certainly no shortage of ideas.

ML: Where do you see yourself going or where would you like to go, and any other thoughts on painting/selling/art in general? TB: I want to go to the top haha. Well in most ways things are better than ever, and I’m incredibly grateful and I can certainly tolerate having things going at this pace at least another year, but would like to make more serious/invested work that I’m really proud of, get some more money and attention and access to better time/space/materials. At this point though even if I had to get a day job I feel I’m completely committed to doing this work. It’s pretty much how I gauge my self-worth for better or worse. Just hope I can find my groove within the process and better understand myself, inspire others, and I wish I had something more insightful to say, but at the moment I’m a bit preoccupied hustling and just having fun with this upcoming show. Thank yaaaa.

[physicistdyke]

Voxman Teacher AU Ch 1

Notes: This is an AU where both Lord Boxman and Professor Venomus are teachers at a highschool. It’s meant to be a lot more realistic and slice of life then the show so some things are different. Venomus is not the tall purple snake boy he is, but probably a tall jewish boy now. Boxman has a prosthetic arm and glass eye from a collage accident. And all the other fun sci fy fantasy cool stuff will be translated as such. Hope you all enjoy!

"Jesus, how does a kid think like this?" Boxman mumbled to himself as he sits alone in his room grading quizzes. "I gotta switch to quia or something." He stands up from his desk and stretches, this had been the third lunch this week he's spent in his classroom, doing work. It hasn't been easy, teaching high school physics/technology and trying to go back to night school himself. Most days would be filled with coffee, algebra, and confused teens, like this one. He looks back down to the paper on his desk and gives a sigh. "Have any of these kids even had geometry yet?" The physics papers were the worst, maybe a small break would ease his mind. Besides, he had a freshman class next hour, he needs this. He walked through the science hall and turned into a “secret” (janitorial) passage to enter into the back of the teacher’s lounge without having to interact with anyone. Nice, Boxy. He gave a sigh of relief as he was in the cushy safe haven of soft drinks and occasional pastries. He made himself a coffee, and sat down on the 50 year old couch that had been purchased before even he had started working here. He gave a deep breath over his coffee, sometimes just a change of scenery was nice. "That stuff’s gonna kill you, Boxman." Boxman jumped a bit as he looked up to see the gym teacher, Ms. Carol, winking at him as she grabbed an electrolite-filled beverage. "Ugh, come on Carol, I'm just trying to relax" "And you think you're gonna relax with that? It's caffeine Boxy, that's not gonna do you no good!" She takes the towel from her shoulder and places it on the counter. "You know, I always offer an after school workout program for the faculty and it's quite popular!" Boxman gave a shudder at the thought of having to take PE again, gym clothes, gym locker rooms. Boxman rushed to think of an excuse. "Oh no, I'm sorry Carol, I have the classes I'm taking down at the university. I've been stumped with work." Nice, Boxy. Carol gave a laugh. "Alright Boxy, but one day you're gonna run outta excuses and then-” she went into a power stance, "-Push Up time!" Boxman was terrified and Carol could tell. She laughed and said "I'm just messing with you, you'd only do what you'd want to." "Alright, but social pressures would tell me that I'd have to do it, so..." Carol chuckled. "Touché, Boxman." She put the towel back over her shoulder and started to head out "See you soon!" "See you, Carol." he said as she walked out. He gave a relieved sigh, talking with Carol was, a workout in itself. He snuggled his way back into that perfect groove in the couch and started to enjoy his coffee. The period wouldn't be over for another, 30 minutes? And most teachers didn't have a prep this hour so he could enjoy his alone ti... the door opened again. Boxman gave an internal sigh. He looked up to see who was there and was thrown off when he saw before him new Biology teacher, Dr. Venomous. He had only ever seen him in a few meetings but had never been personally introduced. Venomous was, impressive to say the least. He was younger than himself, and had been able to get a doctorate. Not to mention he was,, aesthetically admirable. Boxman shuffled in his seat and straightened his back a bit. "Hello there, Venomous, was it?" He managed to get out. Venomous turned his head to him "Yes, hello, Mr. Boxman," Damn, he nearly forgot about his voice too. The man could melt Gallium with a voice that warm. Venomous headed for the Mr Coffee and filled his thermos. "Is this seat taken?" He asked as he approached the couch and gestured to the opposing corner. "N-no, not at all!" Boxman said, surprised by the sudden interaction. "Well, you know, I'm still pretty new here and I'd thought I should get to know some other adults in this place." He gave a smirk. "I honestly think I'll pop a blood vessel if I have one more conversation that includes anime, fidget spinners, or sarcasm." Boxman chuckled at the comment, oh had he been there. "I'm so sorry, usually the first few years here you get a lot of freshman classes. I think it's the collective way to see if a teacher can handle the education profession or not" Venomous smiled back. "Or nah, as they would say." They both gave a pained laugh at the bad and obscure meme humor of freshman. High schoolers in general. But particularly freshman who couldn't quite get the jokes right.

“Heh, well I'm glad you've finally found an adult to talk to.” Boxman said. It was strange, he usually didn't warm up to people this quick. “You teach, biology right? That's a fun subject”

Venomous settled into his cushion. “Yeah, but I wish I could could actually teach them the good stuff. Besides just telling them ‘the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell’, I mean come on. At least let me talk about ETP or something more than that.”

Boxman rolled his eyes, “I know right? I mean how do I get it across to them that vectors are going to be important if you want to learn about the really cool stuff. At least I have the AP class that's actually excited about physics and my tech shop classes.”

“You teach tech shop as well? What do you do in there?” Venomous asked, intrigued.

“Well, you know, it's a separate room, we share with the wood shop kids, but I teach more about circuity and metal working then the other mediums. It's only for upperclassman but all the kids who take it really tend to like it.” Boxman looked over from his coffee to see a beaming and curious biology teacher looking back at him.

“That sounds great! It's amazing they can have that at the high school level. I didn't even step into a lab with a good microscope until college.”

Boxman gave a soft laugh. “I'm glad you think that way.” He looked down at his watch. Still 20 minutes left to the hour,

“Would you like to see it?”

Venomous looked enthralled by the offer but returned to his calm demeanor. “That would be, very nice” he said blushing a bit, letting his nerdiness get the best of him.

They walked side by side down the open hall. Not a soul around except for them and the occasional kid going to the bathroom. Each class they walked past gave an insight onto a new subject and a new 30 set of kids bored to death by it. They reached the room at the end of the hall opposing the art room and Boxman took a key from his pocket. He unlocked the door, lead them both in, and then flicked a switch. Lights came on and a large ventilation fan started humming loudly.

“Sorry for the noise, it’s kinda set so that if you want the lights on and to work in here at all, you gotta have the fan on too.” Boxman said.

“It makes sense, safety you know.” Venomous commented as he looked down and smiled at the man.

Boxman gave a blush and looked to the floor “Hah! Yeah well I was actually the one who did the electric work for that and,, man you don’t know how many kids I get complaining.”

“I don’t think they’re old enough to see quality work when they see it.” Venomous gave a wink. Damn that man was smooth.

“Oh, oh yeah! Yesthankyou we can proceed with the tour!” He guided the taller man into the room further as he tried to hide the rouge he gained from that sick compliment he just received. He got more comfortable as he entered into his element. “Yep! We have everything here from mass blank blue prints to an industrial sized soldering iron! As long as the kid can show they can do something safely and have an idea, we let them go nuts!”

“Wow! That’s really cool how they can have an opportunity like that at such a young age!” He said as he admired the equipment around him. His eyes lit up with excitement, “IS THAT A 3D PRINTER?!?” He looked down to Boxman who was beaming at his own excitement. He gave a stifled cough and walked over. “Heh, why does it have the word ‘Jethro’ engraved onto it?”

“Oh, well after we got the printer, my AP design class decided we had to name it. You know how kids are with their creativity.”

Venom gave a snicker. “Hm, yep, it’s our job as the public school system to crush that.” he said jokingly to Boxman.

Boxman laughed “Hah! Yeah well this class found it particularly important and somehow decided on the name Jethro. So I real quick engraved it and he’s been Jethro ever since.”

“Charming.” Venomous said with a smile.

“Thank you!” Boxman said.

Venomous leaned back against a desk and looked at Boxman. Oh shit, is he checking me out? “I gotta ask, and if it’s not too rude,” Venomous made a motion pointing to his left arm and eye.

“OH! Yeah that,,” Boxman trailed off as he realized Mr. Hot Teacher was Not checking him out.

Venomous gave a panicked look “Oh I’m sorry if that was a sensitive topic! I was just cur-”

“No it’s ok! I’m willing to talk about it,” Boxman gave a laugh and leaned against a desk of his own. “You know I don’t even consider it most of the time unless I’m scaring freshman to follow lab safety procedures.” What the two men were referring to was the glass, mildly red tinted eye surrounded by burn scars, and a left hand made of a simple metal rig instead of flesh. “You see, it was my senior year of college, I was up late in the workshop finishing my final. While I was soldering I hadn’t realized some potassium had mixed in with my soder god knows how. And this particular invention was suppose to hold water, so when I filled it in to test and checked inside the cartridge to see what was making a sound… Well, the rest is chemistry.”

Venomous gave a shudder. “Jesus thats a lot, I’m so sorry, Mr. Boxman.”

Boxman looked up and gave a slight smile. “It’s really ok! It didn’t stop me from getting a degree in engineering or my teaching certificate! And please, call me Boxy.”

Venomous reddened a bit at the sweet genuineness of the man. Even though he was probably in his mid 40’s, and not the most conventionally attractive guy, he was still pretty damn cute. Venomous’ gay thoughts were cut off by an abrupt bell.

“Welp, heh, end of this period I guess. It’s been fantastic talking with you!” Boxman said as he started out the other door that lead to the science hall. Venomous followed to get to his own class.

“Yeah, it’s been great talking with, you.” Venomous trailed off as the two headed in separate directions. He had never felt so immediately felt comfortable with someone like that, and neither had Boxman. They both had the feeling though that this would lead to something great.

[zeckrombryan]

It has been more than a week (almost two weeks) since I posted anything, I simply did not have the will nor the effort to do so even the Malaysian government has imposed a Movement Control Order (MCO) from 18 March 2020 to 14 April 2020. Now, I want to share how I felt and experienced this MCO until now.

How did we get here?

Pre-panic Era

The first few cases of COVID-19 in Malaysia were detected during the end of January and the pandemic was still on the rise globally with somewhat insignificant effect, at least to me and the people around me. I boldly assumed that the virus would not be as serious as it was projected globally on social media and news outlets because Malaysia’s population density is quite low and my immune system is quite okay.

In addition, at that point in time, I was still in Johor studying which was one of the most prone areas to the virus as it was right beside Singapore. The cases during that time at Singapore was at a high and yet I still did not fret, at all, not a single shed of fear. I went to my classes without mask and sanitiser. Plus, I even convinced myself this virus is just another strain of flu. The assumptions that I had made until that time was so wrong and yet I still went with it.

On the other hand, the previous government was doing a good job at handling the first wave of the pandemic, keeping the cases as low as possible and the growth rate of the cases was also kept at bay. They did a good job. It did not look or feel like a pandemic, at all- at least to me.

Big shout-out to Dr. Dzukefly Ahmad and his team at containing the first wave of virus.

Life was normal. Until these happened.

Political Fiasco

From 21 February to 4 March 2020 went down the annals of Malaysia as one of the messiest period.

You can read this if you want to know more about it: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2020_Malaysian_political_crisis#21_February

After for the change in government, the fear in voicing out my opinions boldly (freedom of speech) had come back with a somewhat familiar feeling. Personally, I felt threaten to speak my mind as the people who supported the ‘new’ government and the people running it had left bad impressions to me in the past. (I do not want to go into a rant in this so I will just keep it at this)

It is the mindset that they have that I disliked.

I will give you an oversimplified version of what has happened:

Tun Mahathir (7th Prime Minister) resigned after certain members of his party ‘turned their backs’ on him to form a new government.

In my opinion, (just an opinion, do not arrest me, please.) I feel like those people running the government now, under the 8th Prime Minister- Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin- are nothing more than just disillusioned power-hungry money-grabbing politicians. (NOTE THAT THIS IS JUST AN OPINION)

Sigh…

I do not want to delve into my complaints anymore. The same inferiority and fear from the past is haunting me at the back of mind. I have to stop talking shit.

Back to reality.

Realistically, this political fiasco might have caused the sudden spike in the cases. My point is no matter which new government that just run the country for a few days knows thoroughly the system that was left behind by the previous government and have full control over the people working under them. There must be a shuffle in the government, different people; there must also have shortcomings in making the respective departments work effectively, different government. Thus a more sluggish effort was taken to tackle the cases.

Tabligh

There were over 16,000 people gathering at Sri Petalling for certain religious event at the start of March. Here is the more detailed report about it: https://www.nst.com.my/news/nation/2020/03/574484/14500-msians-tabligh-gathering-40-test-positive-covid-19

At the beginning of March was the rise of the second wave of the virus, even the WHO made efforts to tell people to have social distancing and stop gathering in masses, but there were these people who were ignorant about it.

They were not immediately quarantined and were given opportunities to get back to their respective homes. No actions were taken by the ‘new’ government at this point in time as they were busy distributing their ‘new fortune’ that was conveniently taken by them.

Here comes the spike and the sloppiness in executing MCO.

Movement Control Order was announced by the 8th PM on 16th March 2020 that everyone to stay at home from 18th to 31st March (14-day MCO) as the ‘new’ government just realised that the cases from the tabligh were spreading like wildfire.

Here is the full article, quite long: https://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2020/03/16/malaysia-announces-restricted-movement-measure-after-spike-in-covid-19-cases (the 8th PM wasted too much time on rather unimportant points, I just summarized his speech in a few lines above.)

As a fellow human, I felt the fear this time, the severity of the virus and had the urge to socially distance myself from the people around me. To be honest, the universities nationwide, mine included, gave delayed messages and some contradicting messages to the students, leaving us in a midst of confusion and panic.

Here is one where they encouraged us to go back before the MCO has been implemented (this was circulated between collages) and they also mentioned about locking down the university during the MCO period:

And to make things worse, there was word circulating in my university hinting that there were already staffs who had the virus during this period of time.

I was utterly confused and panicky. What in the actual fuck is happening? How is it that difficult to make a true statement based on facts? I do not see the need to cover this up. We are facing this together as a country, as a world. Please, do not hide your cases or symptoms during this outbreak, especially during the start of it, these acts are simply foolish and selfish, think about other people also. At this point in time, I had partially lost trust in the information provided by certain bodies.

At 17th March, one of our lecturers still carried out the lecture as usual whereas most of the other lecturers knew the severity of the virus and cancelled their classes immediately or moved them online. I did not attend the lecture, I am not stupid and I care about social distancing. The best time to stop the spread of virus is during the beginning of it. I am just being a responsible person.

A dilemma hit me in the afternoon about whether or not to go home. At this time, I only had the announcement about encouraging us to go back so I just went along with the notice. I grabbed along few of my other friends and went back home.

Luckily I made the right choice, everything went spiralling downhill after then.

On the same day, the police announced that they will start blocking people from crossing states in the midnight- people must register at their nearest police station first before crossing states. It was around 6 or 7 pm when it was announced.

Everyone panicked. It was a mess where people gathered:

Announce by the head of police force to restrict state crossing on 17th March 2020.

Malaysians lining up to get their permission to cross states after the announcement.

Malaysians lining up to catch the bus before midnight.

I managed to get home before they scratched the crossing states restriction. They did not have time to prep for it and did not know one announcement literally threw everybody into panic mode.

I want to emphasize once more. It was a fucking mess.

Mass gatherings were happening here and there during this peak of the outbreak. Well played, nice move by our 8th PM in delivering and executing this.

Entertainers/ Comedians/ Politicians

During this peak period of the pandemic happening in Malaysia, the politicians of the ‘new’ government made some ���laughable’ (filled with sarcasm, more like idiotic) moves/statements the riled up even more the current situation.

A tweet by a deputy minister  For the full article: https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2020/03/16/deputy-minister-closes-twitter-account-after-uproar-over-covid-19-post/ The tweet went like this: The likelihood of dying from the Coronavirus is only 1%, while the possibility of dying at any moment is 100%.

Re-opening the topic on child marriage.  For the full article: https://www.malaysiakini.com/news/513990 In summary, another minister from the ‘new’ government want to continue making child marriage legal in Malaysia and also stated that Child Marriage is a blessing. Come on, people are busy dealing with the virus and you rather spend this time on this? You can be better than this.

Drinking warm water kills the Coronavirus. For the full article: https://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2020/03/20/health-minister039s-039warm-water-method039-to-kill-coronavirus-questioned This was said by our Health Minister. Applause.

These were 3 of the many things that piqued my interest during these trying times.

MCO Extended

For the first few days of MCO, both the government and the people were not taking things as seriously as it should be. People still moved around and gathering. The government was still catching up to speed unto what was happening and slow at deploying people into the field to prevent these gatherings from happening.

Cases were skyrocketing, (and still is now)

People started to take things more seriously after a week or so. So as the government, day 5 only deployed the army to help the MCO; day 8 only gave money to the health ministry to purchase medical support; day 10 only announced financial help to the people. Well done! Really good job! Give a pat at the back to yourselves.

These were the messages sent by SMS by the government to the people. What a time we are living in.

Since the cases are still on the rise, the 8th PM announced an extra 14 days to the MCO, making it end by 14th April 2020. One whole month of staying at home. #stayathome

At this point in time, I do not know what to say or how to react with the situation. I will just go with the flow and continue with life as usual.

Masks, Hand Sanitisers and Food.

Even before the MCO, masks were sold out throughout the country but surprisingly hand sanitisers were still available. However, the price of masks and hand sanitisers skyrocketed drastically. (From RM0.20 per mask to RM2 per mask) There was a late implementation of price-caps by the government and a poor enforcement of it, making them expensive.

After MCO was being announced, people rushed to purchase food items in their local supermarkets. Here is one of them:

People rushing to stock-up food items and essentials before MCO.

Daily essentials could not keep up production after a few days into MCO. And yet, the government ensured us that there is going to be enough food for us to last for a month or two. But, it contradicted with what is actually happening.

Going Online

Apart from affecting our daily lives, even the education sphere is affected too. Exams are cancelled or delayed and classes are shifted online. Speaking from my thoughts, about my university, we are going online too, including the lab, tests and also finals. Wow! Great job in following the footsteps of other more equipped universities!

Let me ask a few practical questions:

How legitimate the tests and finals will be?

How can hundreds of students sit for a test at the same time?

How are lab classes going to be carried out?

As far as I know, our e-learning system is more or less like a rusty website from the early 2010s, probably made by shitty interns. To put it nicely, the website is basic and have limited usage. A considerable number of our lecturers do not or rarely carry out online classes. I still cannot think of a feasible system for online finals and tests. This is just absurd.

Here are two files as to help us resolve our main concerns: Kenyataan Pej TNCAA-BM UTM FAQ PdP 27032020.pdf

Looking at the bright side, we get to try out new stuffs and probably the management team will realise the importance of getting the online portals ready to use in cases of emergency for this period only. All roses have thorns, and I feel like the thorns on this rose is more than the previous ones.

One more thing, based on the announcements given by my university, I should be having online classes starting from 1 April 2020, but the government said the universities only can start earliest by 27th April 2020 and the latest by 1st June 2020. Here is the official announcement:

This is, a mess.

What did I do for these few days?

For the first week of MCO, I focused on a game (King Of Glory), I literally spent more than 8 hours gaming for each day for the week. I guess it was just a purge after months of not touching any games.

For the second week of MCO, I hosted online classes / discussion rooms with my friends, helping them out on the syllabus if they felt left out during the classes. It felt good and invigorating to teach once again, the best part is that they understood what I was teaching (Yay!) and they stayed through with me until this day (for 7 consecutive days!) I did two 2-hour sessions per day covering all the Mathematics syllabus that we are supposed to know for this semester.

This is refreshing. My passion for teaching has yet to die, it burns even brighter in this season.

Every night, except for Sunday nights, I met up with my cell via Zoom for prayer sessions and reading God’s word. I feel like these are the only things that I can do to help alleviate the pandemic at hand. At helpless times like this, God is still there. I believe that God will answer our prayers and eradicate COVID-19 from the face of Earth.

I cooked for most of the days, breakfast and dinner. I did Maths. I lazed around watching Youtube, procrastinating on this post. And I watched more Youtube and scrolled more Instagram than I had ever done. It had been always like that. I did not know when it started.

But, during this MCO, I am facing the demons of the algorithm head-on, battling them valiantly. My sleep pattern was also in a freestyle, I could not sleep at night and felt tired in the afternoon.

I just hope that this will end soon. Hope our world and humanity would be restored and healed.

No more toxicity and complaining about the situation. Think positively and pray and hope for healing to rain upon humanity and the world.

P.S. Here is what the 8th PM tweeted about:

We are a nation at war with invisible forces. The situation we are now facing is unprecedented in history. And this government may not be the government that you voted for. But I want you to know that this government cares for you.

Translation to BM:

Kami adalah sebuah negara yang sedang berperang dengan kekuatan yang tidak kelihatan. Keadaan yang kita hadapi sekarang tidak pernah berlaku dalam sejarah. Dan kerajaan ini mungkin bukan kerajaan yang anda pilih. Tetapi saya ingin anda tahu bahawa kerajaan ini mengambil berat tentang anda.

– Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin (8th Prime Minister of Malaysia)

Shalom!

Hope. Joy.. Feelings cloaked as words.

Craving for more? Down below: WRITING 100 BLESSINGS! Becoming Steve Jobs by Brent Schlender and Rick Tetzeli (Book Review) Why Do I Still Write? The Fault in Expectations The Subtle Art of Not Giving A Fuck by Mark Manson (Book Review) Parasite (Movie Review) 14-Hour Phone Detox on Valentine’s Day

  it's been more than a week #malaysia #stayathome #thoughts #covid19 #feelings #amwriting #bloggerstribe It has been more than a week (almost two weeks) since I posted anything, I simply did not have the will nor the effort to do so even the Malaysian government has imposed a Movement Control Order (MCO) from 18 March 2020 to 14 April 2020.

[richincolor]

Art is a way of expressing thoughts and emotions. Art can also be a wonderful way to process and heal. Art can be many things to people and I enjoy finding books that include visual arts. Here are a few I’ve discovered in the past few years:

Piecing Me Together by Renee Watson (collage) Review

Jade believes she must get out of her neighborhood if she’s ever going to succeed. Her mother says she has to take every opportunity. She has. She accepted a scholarship to a mostly-white private school and even Saturday morning test prep opportunities. But some opportunities feel more demeaning than helpful. Like an invitation to join Women to Women, a mentorship program for “at-risk” girls. Except really, it’s for black girls. From “bad” neighborhoods.

But Jade doesn’t need support. And just because her mentor is black doesn’t mean she understands Jade. And maybe there are some things Jade could show these successful women about the real world and finding ways to make a real difference.

Friendships, race, privilege, identity—this compelling and thoughtful story explores the issues young women face.

Shadowshaper by Daniel José Older (painting) Review

Sierra Santiago was looking forward to a fun summer of making art, hanging out with her friends, and skating around Brooklyn. But then a weird zombie guy crashes the first party of the season. Sierra’s near-comatose abuelo begins to say “No importa” over and over. And when the graffiti murals in Bed-Stuy start to weep…. Well, something stranger than the usual New York mayhem is going on.

Sierra soon discovers a supernatural order called the Shadowshapers, who connect with spirits via paintings, music, and stories. Her grandfather once shared the order’s secrets with an anthropologist, Dr. Jonathan Wick, who turned the Caribbean magic to his own foul ends. Now Wick wants to become the ultimate Shadowshaper by killing all the others, one by one. With the help of her friends and the hot graffiti artist Robbie, Sierra must dodge Wick’s supernatural creations, harness her own Shadowshaping abilities, and save her family’s past, present, and future.

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman (fan art – drawing) Review

You probably think that Aled Last and I are going to fall in love or something. Since he is a boy and I am a girl.

I just wanted to say—we don’t.

Frances Janvier spends most of her time studying. When she’s not studying, she’s up in her room making fan art for her favorite podcast, Universe City.

Everyone knows Aled Last as that quiet boy who gets straight As. But no one knows he’s the creator of Universe City, who goes by the name Radio Silence.

When Frances gets a message from Radio Silence asking if she’ll collaborate with him, everything changes. Frances and Aled spend an entire summer working together and becoming best friends. They get each other when no one else does.

But when Aled’s identity as Radio Silence is revealed, Frances fears that the future of Universe City—and their friendship—is at risk. Aled helped her find her voice. Without him, will she have the courage to show the world who she really is? Or will she be met with radio silence?

Into the Dangerous World by Julie Chibarro with illustrations by JM Superville Sovak (graffiti) Review

17-year old Ror comes from the boonies and is tough as nails and all she really cares about is drawing and painting and making art. She ends up in the ghetto that was Manhattan in 1984, where she discovers that the walls, the subways, the bridges are covered with art. Before long, she runs into trouble with Trey, the ultimate bad boy and president of Noise Ink, a graffiti crew she desperately wants to join at all costs.

When Ror falls in love with Trey, she realizes she’ll do just about anything to get up in the scene. She has some decisions to make: she wants to be a street artist but she doesn’t want to get shot by the cops; she wants her stuff in the museum but she doesn’t want to die waiting to become famous; she wants to make money selling her work in a gallery but she doesn’t want to be a puppet at the mercy of a dealer. The book follows her descent into a dangerous world, where her drawings are her only salvation.

Ror’s journey is a seamless blend of words and pictures, cinematic in its scope – a sharp-edged, indelible creation that will live inside your head.

My Name is Jason. Mine Too.: Our Story. Our Way. by Jason Reynolds & Jason Griffin (painting)

Our story. Our way.

A poet

An artist

One black

One white

Two voices

One journey

Along with these I’ve read already, here are a two more on my To Be Read list:

Saints & Misfits by S. K. Ali (photography)

Saints and Misfits is an unforgettable debut novel that feels like a modern day My So-Called Life…starring a Muslim teen.

How much can you tell about a person just by looking at them?

Janna Yusuf knows a lot of people can’t figure out what to make of her…an Arab Indian-American hijabi teenager who is a Flannery O’Connor obsessed book nerd, aspiring photographer, and sometime graphic novelist is not exactly easy to put into a box.

And Janna suddenly finds herself caring what people think. Or at least what a certain boy named Jeremy thinks. Not that she would ever date him—Muslim girls don’t date. Or they shouldn’t date. Or won’t? Janna is still working all this out.

While her heart might be leading her in one direction, her mind is spinning in others. She is trying to decide what kind of person she wants to be, and what it means to be a saint, a misfit, or a monster. Except she knows a monster…one who happens to be parading around as a saint…Will she be the one to call him out on it? What will people in her tightknit Muslim community think of her then?

The Gallery of Unfinished Girls by Lauren Karcz (painting)

A beautiful and evocative look at identity and creativity, The Gallery of Unfinished Girls is a stunning debut in magical realism. Perfect for fans of The Walls Around Us and Bone Gap.

Mercedes Moreno is an artist. At least, she thinks she could be, even though she hasn’t been able to paint anything worthwhile in the past year.

Her lack of inspiration might be because her abuela is in a coma. Or the fact that Mercedes is in love with her best friend, Victoria, but is too afraid to admit her true feelings.

Despite Mercedes’s creative block, art starts to show up in unexpected ways. A piano appears on her front lawn one morning, and a mysterious new neighbor invites Mercedes to paint with her at the Red Mangrove Estate.

At the Estate, Mercedes can create in ways she hasn’t ever before. But Mercedes can’t take anything out of the Estate, including her new-found clarity. Mercedes can’t live both lives forever, and ultimately she must choose between this perfect world of art and truth and a much messier reality.

[newyorktheater]

Just a couple of plays are opening on Broadway this month — “Choir Boy,” and “True West” — and a handful Off-Broadway, but January is one of the most robust months for theater in New York, thanks in large measure to the January theater festivals.

Together these festivals offer more than 100 shows; most are experimental, often hybrids that redefine what theater is, and are difficult to describe; many run for only one or two performances Below is a selective list of Broadway, Off-Broadway, Off-Off Broadway and festival offerings in January, organized chronologically by opening date (or, for a festival show and some Off-Off Broadway, the first performance), with each title linked to a relevant website. Color key: Broadway: Red. Off Broadway: Black or Blue.. Off Off Broadway: Green. January theater festival: Orange. Immersive: Magenta Below that, links to the home pages of five of the festivals. (I’ve created the immersive category more as incentive for the adventurous rather than a warning, although such a show often means lots of standing, and some unusual interaction that some might find uncomfortable.)

January 2

Baba Brinkman’s Rap Guide to Consciousness (Soho Playhouse)

This latest piece by “Peer reviewed rapper” illuminates the neuroscience of human experience, from sensations to hallucinations. I’ve seen his rap guides to religion and to climate chaos; they were packed with information.

January 3

HEAR WORD! Naija Woman Talk True (Under the Radar) The show celebrates women who have broken the culture of silence, challenged the status quo, and moved beyond barriers to achieve solutions.

Manual Cinema’s Frankenstein (Under the Radar) The gothic classic, combine with a biography of its author Mary Shelley, told through the company’s signature handmade shadow puppetry, and makeshift cinematic techniques

Nature and Purpose (Soho Playhouse)

Two shows focusing on the abstract expressionist ​Jackson Pollock and the controversial performance artist ​Chris Burden​.

January 4

Tania El Khoury

Tania El Khoury’s As Far As My Fingers Take Me (Under the Radar) immersive

An encounter through a gallery wall between a refugee and one audience member at a time. The refugee will mark the audience member’s arm by drawing on it.

[50/50] old school animation (Under the Radar)

A ghost story that “flirts with the horrific and dips into the surreal. “

The Cold Record (Under the Radar) immersive A one-man show from the Rude Mechs. “The story of a 12-year old boy who tries to set the record for leaving school the most days with a fever and in the process falls in love with the school nurse and breaks his heart on the punk rock.”

Minor Character (Under the Radar) This kaleidoscopic adaptation of Uncle Vanya collages a century’s worth of English translations into one sprawling, intimate, quietly disastrous evening.

Dueted: What Holds Head (Exponential Festival) immersive  A site-specific, interactive performance on intimacy, fidelity, and desire, comprised of a sequence of one-on-one experiences between a single attendee and a performer.

January 5

Pancho Villa from a Safe Distance (Prototype)

A bilingual cross-border multimedia opera about the enigmatic general, legendary bandit, and hero of the Mexican Revolution. Created by Austin, TX based composer Graham Reynolds, librettists Lagartijas Tiradas al Sol of Mexico City, director Shawn Sides of Rude Mech, two vocalists and six instrumentalists.

4.48 Psychosis (Prototype)

Philip Venable’s operatic adaptation of Sarah Kane’s final play, with 28 fragmented episodes to reveal an individual’s struggle to come to terms with their own psychosis. A production from the Royal Opera.

Real (The Tank)  This play by Brazilian playwright Rodrigo Nogueira, tells two stories that eventually intertwine of two people living in New York 85 years apart — a working mother in 2019 who takes up an instrument she used to play and reassesses her life, and a gay immigrant composer in 1934 who in the process of writing a fugue starts to feel he’s meant to live somebody else’s life.

Ink (Under the Radar)

A mash-up of an art history lecture, personal essay, and electronic music concert, this piece is a love letter to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where it is performed

January 6

prism (Prototype)

Opera-Theater composed by Ellen Reid about a traumatized mother and daughter who attempt to escape the past by retreating into a single room.

January 7

Blue Ridge (Atlantic) In this play by Abby Rosebrock set in Southern Appalachia, Marin Ireland portrays a progressive high-school teacher with a rage problem retaliates against her unscrupulous boss and is sentenced to six months at a church-sponsored halfway house, where she attends to everyone’s recovery but her own.

January 8

Choir Boy (MTC’s Samuel Friedman)  Written by Tarell Alvin McCraney (best known for the Oscar-winning movie “Moonlight”) and transferring from MTC’s Off-Broadway theater: For half a century, the Charles R. Drew Prep School for Boys has been dedicated to the education of strong, ethical black men. Jeremy Pope reprises the role he had in the Off-Broadway production as a gay youth whose appointment as head of the school’s legendary gospel choir sparks tension.

January 9

This Bridge Called My Ass (American Realness)

Six Latinx performers – Alvaro Gonzalez, John Gutierrez, Miguel Gutierrez, Xandra Ibarra, Nibia Pastrana Santiago, and Evelyn Sanchez Narvaez – map an elusive choreography of obsessive and perverse action within an unstable terrain of bodies, materials and sound….Clichéd Latin-American songs and the form of the telenovela are exploited to show how familiar structures contain absurdity that reveal and celebrate difference.

Evolution of a Sonero (Under the Radar)

The first full-length show by poet, singer, and actor Flaco Navaja, original member of the Universes and Def Poetry Jam cast

January 10

Chambre Noire (Under the Radar)

Life-sized puppets, broken songs and video-projections come together to illuminate the hallucinatory final moments of Valerie Solanas, the woman who shot Andy Warhol

Wendell & Pan (The Tank)  A play by Katelynn Kenney. Life’s hard when you’re 11, your only friend is the ghost of your 12-year-old dead aunt, your sister wishes she could be on the other side of her cellphone, your parents make every room frigid, and your sick grandpa wants you to kill him.

January 11

Minefield (Under The Radar) Combining theater and film, Lola Arias brings together British and Argentinian veterans of the Falkland Islands/Islas Malvinas war to share their first-hand experience of the conflict and life since.

January 15

Mortality Machine (Sinking Ship Creations at Wildrence) immersive This live-action roleplay makes each theatergoer the protagonist of the story, assigned an identity as a surviving family member of one of the five people who died in an illegal medical experiment five years earlier. The survivors have now gained access to the laboratory, and through interaction with “peculiar individuals who’ll help you tell your tale using dance and movement.

January 17

Behind the Sheet (EST)

Playwright Charly Evon Simpson confronts the history of a great medical breakthrough by telling the forgotten story of a community of enslaved black women who involuntarily enabled the discovery. In 1840s Alabama, Philomena assists a doctor – her owner – as he performs experimental surgeries on her fellow slave women, trying to find a treatment for the painful post-childbirth complications known as fistulas.

January 23

A Man for All Seasons (FPA at Theater Row)

A revival of the 1961 play by Robert Bolt: “As Sir Thomas More refuses to recognize Henry VIII’s divorce and ascendancy as Supreme Head of the new Church of England, A Man for All Seasons reveals the risk of speaking truth to power and the clash that follows when fierce political will collides with deep moral conviction.”

January 24

True West (Roundabout’s American Airlines) Ethan Hawke stars opposite Paul Dano in a revival of Sam Shepard’s play about the clash between two brothers.

10th Annual 10-Minute Play Program (The Fire This Time)

January 28

Banigold II (Exponential)

“This hybrid puppet-video performance lazily examines stoic philosophy and is live scored by Lucy Hollier & co. with original animations from Unimercial Studios.” One of five short works presented together as part of Exponential Variety 2 at The Glove experimental art space in Bushwick.

January 29

God Said This (Primary Stages at Cherry Lane) An award-winning play by Leah Nanako Winkler about five Kentuckians facing mortality in very different ways. “With her mom undergoing chemotherapy, Hiro, a NYC transplant, returns home to Kentucky after years away, struggling to let go of the demons she inherited.”

January Theater Festivals

For a complete list of Theater Festival offerings, check them out individually

Under the Radar January 3 – 13

The Public Theater’s festival is the oldest (at 15) and largest, and tilts towards international productions.

American Realness January 4 – 13 “Fifty-nine performances of sixteen performance works from seventeen artists over ten days at twelve venues in Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens and The Bronx.“ It’s primarily dance.

Exponential Festival January 4 – February 3

Spread out over nine venues in Brooklyn, the festival is “dedicated to New York City-based emerging artists working in experimental performance.”

Prototype January 5 – 13

In its seventh season, it is presenting 12 works of opera-theater

The Fire This Time Festival January 21 – February 2

The festival marks its tenth year of providing “rising playwrights of African and African American descent a platform to write and develop new work.”

January 2019 New York Theater Openings: 2 on Broadway, 100 in January Theater Festivals Just a couple of plays are opening on Broadway this month -- "Choir Boy," and "True West" -- and a handful Off-Broadway, but January is one of the most robust months for theater in New York, thanks in large measure to the January theater festivals.

[no-producoes-blog]

REFERÊNCIAS

Crítica Rushmore

Rushmore is the best film Wes Anderson has ever made, and it would take something incredibly special for him to top it. Not because the filmmaker has less talent now than he did 15 years ago, but because the Anderson that made Rushmore has, more or less, disappeared.

The movie tells the story of ambitious, eccentric, insecure 15-year-old Max Fisher, a kid at a prep school who spends way too much time on extra-curricular activities, not enough time on his studies and is always trying to make his mark on his beloved Rushmore Academy.

Right from the start of Rushmore I still get that jolt that I’m watching something special. It’s such an original, efficient, beautiful, sad, hilarious work. Anderson is completely confident in his ability not just with his eyes, but also with his heart.

Before I talk about that film, though, it’s important to look at the film in the context of Anderson’s career.  As it stands now his fans unofficially divide his films into two categories: The first consists of his first three films (Bottle Rocket, Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums). The second includes everything he’s made since. His first three films can easily be described as his most universally loved while his later efforts like The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou and Moonrise Kingdom are met with a more mixed reaction. That’s not to say that they don’t have their defenders, but the number of them is much smaller. I still attest that The Darjeeling Limited and Fantastic Mr. Fox rival his best work, but I do concede that there’s still some magical, unexplainable element missing. Some have argued that Anderson’s films post-Tenenbaum lack a powerful emotional element, but I don’t buy that. Instead I think the emotions are there, but they are somewhat sacrificed to what has become a slightly bloated visual style.

Anderson’s films have these very easily noticeable qualities: a distinctive, detail-focused visual style and an equally discernible comedic dryness and emotional subtlety. You know a Wes Anderson movie from the first frame. That’s what makes him so special and that’s why even his lesser efforts are still pretty great.

His later films have a larger scope and budget that gave him the freedom to experiment, but that freedom also causes him to lose focus on his characters. The LIfe Aquatic is a funhouse of visual gags and really bonkers characters (especially Willem Dafoe’s Klaus), which makes it very entertaining. But the film’s core emotional story between Zissou (Bill Murray) and his possible son (Owen Wilson) doesn’t have the emotional pull it should. By the end we’re supposed to feel for this relationship, but the film becomes so muddied in its own gleeful imagery and imagination that we don’t. Moonrise Kingdom falls prey to the same problem. For me, The Darjeeling Limited and Fantastic Mr. Fox find Anderson moving back in the right direction, and the more I watch Fox the better it gets, but, for me, they don’t reach the height of his early career trifecta.

There’s no denying that for the first part of his career he found a beautiful balance with his unique visual and emotional styles. You can see as he evolved with Bottle Rocket, Rushmore and Tenenbaums his visual style slowly took a larger and larger place in his films.Bottle Rocket’s minimal budget (it’s claimed to be $7 million, but I just don’t believe it) made him disciplined visually. We still have the yellow jumpsuits and the great fireworks montage, but the film feels beautifully minimalist and Anderson leans heavily on his great comedic instincts (“Is that tape on your nose?” “Exactly.”), deft emotional touches and unique characters to make the film so memorable.

Two films later with The Royal Tenenbaums, Anderson had a much larger budget ($21 million) and an ensemble cast that included the likes of Gene Hackman, Anjelica Huston, Gwyneth Paltrow and Ben Stiller. There’s absolutely nothing minimalist about this movie. It’s big and bold, but it still maintains the strong emotional resonance of his early works. When Stiller’s Chas, an energetic ball of rage, finally concedes his love for his father it’s a beautiful moment because we care so much. The film’s third act is littered with one emotional payoff after another. It’s one of Anderson’s true masterpieces, but it is now obvious, looking at its ambitious visual sense, this was the film that began Anderson’s move into, for lack of a better phrase, style over substance.

In between Bottle Rocket and Tenenbaums, though, Anderson made Rushmore, a film that announced to the world that he was indeed a first-rate filmmaker. It’s also remains the pinnacle of his already decorated career.

The two main characters in Rushmore are Max Fisher (Jason Schwartzman) and Herman Blume (Bill Murray). While one is a teenager at a prep school and the other a 50-something, self-made millionaire the two men share many of the same qualities. For starters they’re both secretly lonely and inherently immature. So, of course, they instantly form a friendship.

It’s only fitting that they both fall for the same woman, Rosemary Cross, a first-grade teacher at Rushmore. It’s obvious she’s too old for Max and too mature for Herman, but the two men fight for her love even if it costs them their newfound friendship.

Just going over the bare bones of the film’s plot reveals that it’s a screwball comedy underlined with sadness. This is perfect for Anderson, who always seems to sneakily go for big laughs. And Murray’s brilliant delivery only makes things easier. Like when he stares sadly at his wrestling twin boys and admits, “Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d have sons like these.”  Anderson also uses Murray in brilliant and simple physical bits like his embarrassing attempt to spy on Rosemary by hiding behind a tree, getting caught and then trying to play it cool. And Schwartzman just kills it as Max in all his insecure and arrogant glory. He makes the now infamous exchange of “These are O.R. Scrubs.” “Oh, are they?” one of the film’s centerpieces. Rushmore is laced throughout with jokey comedic moments like these and they work because Anderson, and co-writer Owen Wilson, are just being genuine to their characters. If you make childish characters you should have them doing childish things. In fact the war of pranks that comes out of Max and Blume’s rivalry over Rosemary, which includes Blume driving over Max’s bike and Max getting him back by putting bees in the man’s hotel room, could be in a comedy for kids. This film is so zany when you think about it that it’s amazing how emotional things get.

As much as the comedy in the film is great, and RUSHMORE is, first and foremost, a comedy, it’s the meticulous and subtle scenes of pathos that make this Anderson’s true masterwork.

If you watch Rushmore closely you understand that a line of dialogue, a look, a shift of a hand can tell you everything about what’s going on inside a character. The film is filled with so many important small moments that when it’s over it feels like you’ve gone through a journey that could not have been squeezed into a breezy 93 minutes.

In fact the main emotional conflict in the film, Max dealing with the death of his mother, is only mentioned about a handful of times. But it’s the key to who Max is. He’s a busybody because he doesn’t want to spend time at home missing his mother. He’s dismissive of his father sometimes because that’s the only link he still has to her. He loves Rushmore because it was his mother’s idea he go there. Anderson never dwells on any of this, but instead allows Max’s actions to reflect these feelings.

And the visual style of Anderson is apparent throughout, but never feels overdone. There’s the breathtaking, French New Wave-inspired montage of Max’s numerous after-school groups and clubs (my personal favorite being “The Bombardment Society”). Also Murray’s The Graduate-esque cannonball-turned-underwater-solace scene comes to mind as well as the continuing theater curtain that covers the screen whenever the film story moves to a new month.

By the end, the world that Anderson creates and the characters than inhabit it come to a massively satisfying conclusion as Max premieres his latest Vietnam-set play. It’s a beautiful collage of images and music and emotions that comes to a head when Max asks Rosemary, whom both he and Herman fail in wooing, to dance. He asks the DJ to play a certain song. We hear The Faces’ “Ooh La La” and are treated to one of Anderson’s signature slow-motion closing shots that he’s used throughout his entire career.

In general terms Rushmore is Anderson’s greatest achievement because it’s his perfect balance of style and substance. His visual eccentricity doesn’t overshadow his characters and the emotional resonance of the film and, in fact, accentuates it beautifully.

After his first three films the potential of what a Wes Anderson movie can be has been brought down by his need to make his film’s visual sensibility overshadow its story and characters, especially with The Life Aquatic and Moonrise Kingdom. They are all still pretty fantastic and some get close to finding that magic, but until he can strike that balance of style and substance that make his first three films, and Rushmore in particular, so loved, we’ll just have to keep revisiting his masterpiece.

http://birthmoviesdeath.com/2013/09/16/rushmore-and-the-style-and-substance-of-wes-anderson

comentários

Como uma das primeiras obras de Wes Anderson, Rushmore tem algumas características que merecem ser destacadas. Max Fischer, o principal personagem do filme, é um personagem com diversas peculiaridades e detalhes que são desenvolvidas e vem ao público ao longo do filme. Sua relação incomum com os outros personagens também têm muito a dizer, principalmente quando se refere à Herman e Rosemary. Em todas as cenas em que as personagens interagem, o diretor consegue trazer mensagens e diálogos repletos de significado. Ao mesmo tempo, o filme também não deixa a desejar no âmbito visual, que é hoje um dos principais focos do artista. Esse equilíbrio entre visual e significado pode ser considerada a grande virtude do filme, que foi produzido no início da carreira de Wes, enquanto seus orçamentos eram menores e a necessidade era fazer menos com mais.

Crítica O Grande Hotel Budapeste 

The cinema of Wes Anderson is nothing if not mechanical. Watching his movies is less like marvelling at the silent workings of a Swiss watch than goggling at the innards of a grandfather clock, cogs and pulleys proudly displayed. Theatrical framing devices are everywhere, from book bindings to doll's houses to miniature stages and fluctuating screen ratios, with chapter headings a recurrent feature. As for the performances, one imagines that if Anderson were ever to include a "gag reel" of outtakes from his movies, it would include shots of an actor raising an eyebrow a millimetre too high, or placing a teacup an inch to the left of its allotted space upon a table.

Such choreographed precision and overwrought artifice can make Anderson's movies seem emotionally sterile – the all-too-arch constructions of a "smart cinema" icon whose idea of casual dress is (non?)-ironic corduroy. Yet rigorous physicality is also the key to screen comedy, following a tradition that dates back to the silent era and the carefully constructed pratfalls of Chaplin and Keaton. Significant, then, that The Grand Budapest Hotel is both Anderson's most tightly wound and funniest film in years, lacking the melancholy charm of The Royal Tenenbaums or Moonrise Kingdom perhaps, but more than making up for it in terms of elegantly capering contrivance.

The action centres upon the titular establishment, a once-grand confection of a building located in the imaginary European state of Zubrowka, lurking somewhere between the Best Exotic Marigold and the Overlook hotels, with Anderson's prowling, panning cameras occasionally resembling a cartoon caricature of Kubrick on speed. As ever, the story unfolds as a series of boxes within boxes. Our first narrator, a writer (variously played by Tom Wilkinson and Jude Law) hands the baton to a second storyteller, Mr Moustafa (F Murray Abraham, embodied in younger years by Tony Revolori) who in turn draws our attention to the real heart of the matter: the charismatic concierge, M Gustave (a splendidly rancid and randy Ralph Fiennes). Back in the 30s, Gustave was the hotel's primary attraction, a vision of purple-clad slickness attending the guests with oily efficiency, bedding the dowagers whose patronage was his fetish. When one such dowager (an unrecognisable Tilda Swinton) expires, leaving Gustave a priceless painting, the family revolts, and a frenetic caper is set in motion involving art theft, murder, love, prison breaks, steam trains, cable cars, occupying armies (non-specific war breaks out), dead cats, a clandestine order of fraternal concierges and elaborate cakes. In boxes.

With Lubitsch and Hitchcock his guiding lights, and author Stefan Zweig providing inspiration for a screenplay co-written with Hugo Guinness, Anderson conjures a fictional vision of Europe that nods its head towards the Hollywood backlots upon which so many émigré directors worked their magic in the golden age of the studios. Everything looks like a set, and deliberately so, with the screen oscillating between classic Academy ratio and more panoramic widescreen (both 1.85 and 2.35) to differentiate between the various time periods, ancient and modern(ish).

The overriding air is one of carefully controlled craziness in which even the outbursts of sporadic violence (a spontaneous gunfight shatters the hotel's studied serenity) are politely staged. It's a rigid structure in which the players flourish, most notably Fiennes, who caught Anderson's eye in a stage production of the savage farce God of Carnage, and whose brittle manner here proves the director's perfect tool. Relishing rapid-fire dialogue that veers incongruously between the oleaginous and the obscene (his clipped diction lends bizarre gravitas to the phrase "shaking like a shitting dog"), Fiennes is in roaring form, his timing note-perfect down to the last demisemiquaver, his mannerisms piercingly angular, from the set of his arms to the arch of his back, the curl of his lip, the bristle of his manicured moustache. Even more so than the mannequins of Fantastic Mr Fox, Fiennes has the appearance of an expertly animated creation, painstakingly captured frame by frame, each gesture rich in detail.

Around him a rogues' gallery of regular players is augmented by a growing gaggle of the great and the good, with fleeting turns from Bill Murray and Owen Wilson fighting for space alongside Harvey Keitel's shaven-headed comrade-in-crime, Saoirse Ronan's perfect partner, Adrien Brody's conniving son, Willem Dafoe's feral thug, Léa Seydoux's inquisitive maid, Mathieu Amalric's elusive butler, Jeff Goldblum's Freud-like lawyer, Jason Schwartzman's third-rate concierge, and more.

Sometimes the level of fleeting celebrity spectacle threatens distraction, with too many guests for even this sprawling hotel to accommodate. Yet each time we return to Abraham's ageing narrator the story coalesces once more, allowing the deeper undercurrents of personal loss and historical tragedy to breathe, albeit briefly.

With its signature zooms, satirical tableaux, and fiercely ordered visual palette (architecture is everything, from  the hairstyles to the shot compositions) this is Anderson-world writ large: a hermetically sealed environment in which reality is something you only read about in books, and the upheavals of the interwar years provide tonal rather than political background. What slices the surface is the rapier-sharp wit, with Fiennes on point at all times, a dashing foil for his director's comedic cut and thrust.

https://www.theguardian.com/film/2014/mar/09/the-grand-budapest-hotel-review-wes-anderson

Comentários

O Grande Hotel Budapeste é um dos filmes mais reconhecidos de Wes Anderson. Sua notoriedade se dá principalmente por motivos estéticos, visto que até os mínimos detalhes são pensados e executados de acordo com um padrão. A obra cria uma realidade a parte, em que tudo e todos adotam características, comportamentos e até histórias extremamente originais, que, apesar de fazer referência à elementos históricos e culturais, conseguem manter uma grande autenticidade.