#yeah. most of the music was not very age appropriate

[musicalsiphonophore]

abattoir blues / the lyre of orpheus is an album that makes me all nostalgic for being like 3. which is odd since, well, it's abattoir blues / the lyre of orpheus.

[vmlnrzmp4]

a grown man had to force himself to watch the overly saturated slime unboxing videos.

kaiser crossed his arms. being engrossed as he watches the big tv along with a 6 year old beside him. kaiser holds back a very frustrated sigh at the crumbling sound of plastic, the funky music, the sound beside him of the kid eating cheetos.

today was meant for him and you. you and him. but your mother's friend's kid, kenzo, had no one to babysit.

the moment kaiser stepped in, he was greeted with "who are you" and "what do you want" by the little boy. but what made a vein pop on his forehead was when the kid claimed to be your boyfriend.

a 6 year old kid: your boyfriend? you chuckled and told kaiser that the child likely doesn't know what that word means. boy friend and boyfriend. a 6 year old wouldn't know the difference. right?

wrong. the kid made sure to give kaiser a look which told enough that the chibi had marriage plans.

most kids would curiously ask about his tattoo. or ask him to teach them soccer. kaiser wonders what's wrong with this one as he finally lets out that frustrated sigh.

you walked to your room to grab the sweets-jar when kenzo whined for toffees. and just when you were about to head back to the living room, your lovely boyfriend had already stepped in, and locked the door behind.

he scoffed amusingly. further teasing you for still eating toffees at this grown age, and hiding the sweets in the most noticeable place in your bedroom.

"behave," you warned.

"are you my boss or something?"

"you're in my room."

"so?"

you ignored, telling kaiser to behave appropriately again. but does he listen? you're nowhere to boss him. he believes that.

he grabs you, making you lay on the bed. with him on top of you, so soon so quick. and he placed multiple kisses on your neck exactly where he know would tickle.

"who's the fucking boss? huh?" kiss "who's in charge?" kiss "who's in control?" kiss "who's bigger?" kiss "who's stronger?" kiss.

you weren't going to let him win. you yelled out that you were stronger while still laughing.

"hah?" kiss "say that again?" kiss.

"i said—" you start trying to hold back laughs, "i said—"

kiss "hm?" kiss.

"kenzo's out waiting for us!"

after five seconds of looking at you in disbelief, kaiser rolls his eyes, getting off of you. stupid kid. he mumbles.

"tsk tsk. someone's acting childish." you tease.

"yeah im jealous damn it."

"of a kid? mihya, he's six—"

"and so? today was for us. just us. and this kid—"

and as an apology, you kissed his cheek before exiting the room, kaiser following shortly after.

it was the smell of cookies. you had almost forgotten to take them out of the oven. while you rush to the kitchen, kenzo suddenly turns to kaiser, "how are babies made?"

kaiser guesses the kid came across something on the tv, so he replies by saying when mom and dad love each other, a baby forms into the momma's stomach.

"really? does that really really happen?"

"yeah. it absolutely does."

"so that means, you will never experience giving baby in a women's stomach?"

and kaiser knew damn well the kid is referring that kaiser will never find a women to love. a vien pop on kaiser's forehead at that. and the kid interrupts the silence asking: "so, so, my parents loved each other too. right? right!?"

however kaiser decided to adapt the asian parents' approach and replied saying, "you were found in the garbage."

[loriache]

Thistle & Senshi: Missed Connections

continuing my thistleposting... here is my manifesto for thistle and senshi: friends. In another life 😥

For one thing, they've been unknowing cohabitants for most of senshi's life. thistle doesn't think much of the non-golden kingdom residents of the dungeon, of course - he considers them trespassers and thieves! but there is a difference between trespassers and thieves who mind their own business, and even help keep other adventurers out (he obviously knew about and tolerated the orcs), and trespassers and thieves who make a mess of his dungeon (hateful, to be killed).

which I can't blame him for!

Based on what it looks like when marcille became the dungeon lord, we could assume that creating a dungeon is super easy - just rely on the winged lion for everything! But we see in thistle's flashbacks, that isn't how he did it.

Thistle did a lot of the work of building the dungeon manually. Perhaps because he was trying to build a sustainable dungeon, that could support a large population of living people - who he was invested in surviving themselves, not being replaced by puppets by the demon. They need a functioning ecosystem!

Of course, this is all pragmatic. After working on it for so long, I am sure Thistle is attached to the dungeon and its ecosystem, but more as a means to an end than for its own sake. As we see from the way that Laois defeats him, Thistle isn't really interested in monsters, and doesn't really understand the value of food...

Though I think he once did, and the fact he doesn't anymore is more down to the lion's interference than anything.

Senshi is attached to the dungeon's ecosystem. It's his home, even though he lost his family there, and he's come to care about it in its own right.

There are aspects of it he finds distasteful or dislikes, such as the immortality spell. But overall, if he had a chance to talk to Thistle about his hard work building up and maintaining the dungeon, he'd be greatly appreciative of it - this is his home, and it's a place that Thistle made to be a home.

In fact, Senshi (and the orcs) have been willingly living in the dungeon. Whereas the people that Thistle created the dungeon for have to be kept there by force. I doubt it's something he'd be easily appreciative of, but it's something, isn't it?

I also think it's incredibly cute that they both keep diaries.

Senshi's diaries have drawing, Thistle's have poems... they're both artists! Thistle with his music & Senshi with his cooking, they both have arts that they share with others to make them happy, and art that they keep to themselves.

Based on the diaries, including the ones in the complete Adventurers Bible..... it doesn't seem like Senshi ever learned Thistle's name! This makes sense since they really don't have much interaction - mostly Thistle talks to Laios or Marcille.

I don't think it should have gone any other way, since they're the protagonists and foils, but I do think in a more chilled out setting, Senshi and Thistle could get on.

Like Izutsumi, Thistle's a bit of a brat.

(I love him)

He probably had good table manners once upon a time, but I reckon he is very out of practice.

And we see he isn't in the habit of sharing:

Senshi would disapprove!

Senshi's desire to get everyone living well can be a bit overbearing. He already cleaned Thistle's kitchen for him!

But like Izutsumi, Thistle is another character that Senshi's habit of assuming non-dwarves to be children would be appropriate for. He's much older than Senshi, yeah, but his maturity levels seem to have stagnated along with his physical form in some ways. I doubt that anyone has treated him like a kid since way before he became a dungeon lord. The humans around him didn't understand his age, we can see that from the responsibility Delgal puts on him!

I think it would be good for him to have a person in his life who treats him like a kid, after he's had to be an adult so early and have so much responsibility for so long. And I'd like him to sit down and eat a delicious meal.

Sometimes that does happen! But Senshi would have done better </3

Thistle's ending is sad, but it's cathartic and makes sense. After being consumed by the winged lion, I doubt he'd be able to persist for a little longer, like Yaad - why would he even want to?

But I do think it would be nice if he could have met new people, formed new desires outside of his codependency with Delgal, and eaten a meal together with new people. Senshi could have helped him with that, if he had had the opportunity.

[philtstone]

as if you havent already filled enough indulgent prompts for me already—Juliet & Gus, "competition"

also cleaned up and posted on ao3

Juliet's always been the jealous type, but she's never been jealous of Gus.

Maybe for like a week, right after Vancouver, she had a mild freakout over how it would all work. Which was normal of her, Juliet maintains. Shawn was historically bad at saying no to both of them, they were trying to keep things a secret at work, it was so so so new in ways that blended the heady butterflies and anxiety about the future into one single entity in her stomach, and, well. She was suddenly very personally aware: there were things Gus knew about her boyfriend that were probably so hyperspecific that they completely escaped her scope of imagination.

The little thread of anxiety tied to this particular knowledge started to dissolve the first time Shawn called her in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep. And besides, she had thought -- wasn't this all just a great opportunity to get to know Gus better, too?

Juliet is a pragmatic woman and a strategist and the initiator of their local public library's Feminist Fantasy and Friendship book club. Over the last fifteen years, the number of times she's felt like she's competing with Burton Guster for Shawn's attention is so small it's kind of irrelevant.

"Juliet!" Gus follows the sound of his pained voice through the door. "It's been three hours! He's not answering his phone!"

Juliet closes the front door and sighs. "He's fixing the dishwasher."

Gus's scarf is hanging lopsidedly from around his neck and the top of his perfectly round head glistens with the remnants of a spring rainstorm. He raises both eyebrows. "Shawn. Our Shawn? The Shawn we know. Is fixing the dishwasher."

"Didn't he do it for a living for like three weeks back in ninety nine?" Juliet asks, taking Gus's coat from him and ushering him into the living room.

"Well, yeah," says Gus, in a tone that implies the mutual understanding that Shawn is annoyingly handy when he isn't distracted by twelve other more interesting things and/or being deliberately useless. "I just didn't think he'd have the patience to sit down and do it. Especially when he was supposed to come over three hours ago to go over these case files with me. I gotta pick up Junior from daycare in twenty minutes!"

Wordlessly, Juliet nudges him closer to the half-shut kitchen door. Gus pauses, frowning, then tilts his head as Shawn's animated voice floats through to them, a sample of the bits and pieces of conversation Juliet's been neglected for all afternoon.

"... then he goes over and stands by the record stand -- cue music -- have I played Try A Little Tenderness for you yet? Not exactly in this household's hall of fame, but one of the greats for sure. Now, music starts playing, and he starts dancing -- bam bam beeeenyon, hang on, I gotta demonstrate -- now imagine you're Andi, and you're standing over there, looking appropriately reserved and restrained 'cause life is just complicated, you know?! You're trying to figure out how to be a person in high school."

"Aaaab aaab baa."

"Exactly! Don't worry, you don't have to go to high school for ages. Maybe by the time you do high school the aliens will have invaded. Mol, note to self -- if aliens invade, make sure they do experiments on me first. You and Mommy and Uncle Gus are too important to be experimented on."

"Baaaa."

"That's right, because I love you. So back to Andi -- it's hard, 'cause she totally stands out, you know? But that's only because she has a great personality, and get this, the general population of the world is not interested in good personalities. You're definitely gonna have a great personality, but if anyone doesn't like you they'll have to go through Mommy, right? Then me, and then Gus probably third -- Hm, no. Me, Grandpa, Selene, then Gus. Your Uncle Gus is a sensitive soul."

"Abbbrrrabababa"

"Right. I think you might have the most personality of anyone I've ever met, including myself and the inimitable Rod Steiger impersonator I met once in Arkansas. It's just been obvious from pretty much the second I held you; you know your dad's a great judge of character. So anyway, Ducky starts dancing -- oooh, I just had a thought. How do we feel about pineapple Fruit By the Foot in a cheesy chili dog? Here me out -- same concept as a pizza -- but with maximum shelf life for the fruitiness. We gotta try that one on Uncle Gus ..."

Gus blinks at the door, then at Juliet, then back at the door.

"I'm not that sensitive," he says defensively. "I am fully prepared to fight a man and or woman and or other self-identified gender to protect your daughter, Juliet --"

"Gus, focus!"

Gus clears his throat and straightens up.

"All afternoon?" he asks.

"It's so sweet," Juliet whispers miserably, "I don't think he's ever had a more captive audience."

There's a mild clang from inside the kitchen, and Molly's bubbly shrieking laughter. Gus's eyebrows climb by the inch up his forehead. He looks like he doesn't know whether he wants to laugh to look sympathetic or shed a few emotional tears; Juliet can relate.

"And you've been ..."

"In the kitchen, doing boring tax stuff. They've been so caught up in their conversation it's like I'm not even there."

"Jules, she's six months old."

"Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing! I feel neglected too. Three hours, remember?"

Molly laughs again, clapping her hands. Shawn's started singing Try a Little Tenderness and is surprisingly on-key until it suddenly gets muffled by what Juliet presumes is the screwdriver he's been using to fix their kitchen appliance.

"I am not jealous of my baby," she says determinedly, bringing forward a vehement finger. "And neither are you." Gus holds his hands up in surrender.

"I'm Switzerland. And have to pick up my own baby. Tell Shawn I stopped by."

"Tell Selene she has to finish chapter five by Sunday."

"Man, I have to finish chapter five by Sunday. Selene's read all the way ahead to the sexy stuff."

"Gus!" Juliet shoos him away in distress. "She's not supposed to do that! We're meant to experience the book together in friendship!"

"I am not going to be discussing fairy smut with a room full of adults, Juliet, I don't care how a book club works. I am attending this out of the goodness of my heart because you are a valued member of my circle --"

"Go pick up your kid, oh my God."

Gus huffs, shrugging his coat on. "And you go rescue yours from another hour's worth of Pretty in Pink. You know, he did this to me once when we were in ninth grade?"

"Oh, me too. Third month together. The whole thing."

"What number are we at by now?"

"Eighty-seven watches. And counting."

The realization that exposing Molly's baby eyeballs to movie screens isn't very good for her baby brain has had a surprisingly mitigating effect on Shawn's own movie watching habits. Juliet supposes that he's found a decent workaround; Shawn's nothing if not a good storyteller. And it's not like he forgets any of the details.

" -- exactly! The subtlety? The delicate traaamble of her lip? You're named for her, you know. One of the greatest actresses of all time --"

"Amm mama!"

"Bye," says Gus. The front door slams shut. More clattering of tools from inside the kitchen.

"Jules! Sweetheart! Where are you? We miss you in here!"

Juliet can't help but smile.

"Coming! And you know that's the sound she always makes when she needs to nurse, Shawn." The kitchen door swings open to the sight of Shawn on his side, wedged into the dishwasher's depths, and Molly in her high chair with slobber all over her fist. Juliet feels her heart melt anyway when Molly reaches for her. "Hi baby," she coos.

Shawn extracts himself from the innards. "Not true," he says. She takes a seat at the kitchen table and situates Molly and undoes her nursing bra. "I can read the intonations. This was a genuine emotion, beyond need for boob --"

"Mmmhmm," Juliet says.

"-- and I missed you," Shawn finishes, sincerely.

Juliet's smile grows big and bright and silly. She pets Molly's head, tilts her head at him. She has no idea if their dishes will be washed anytime soon.

"Gus was here," she says. "He's jealous of our six month old. You should call him." Then, unable to help herself, has to start laughing at the expression of deep distress that immediately overtakes Shawn's face.

[louisisalarrie]

Hello love. I like sending you asks because you’re always great at responding. This one is a bit sensitive. Don’t post if not appropriate.

Louis and alcohol. You’ve worked with him and seen him a little more closely than most. Is he a massive drinker (like, every day) or is his alcohol consumption a little exaggerated? I’ve seen other posts referring to him as having a problem, which seems a cruel assumption when people don’t know the guy.

It looks to me like there’s a ton of boozing on tour (lots of stories from other artists who’ve worked with him confirm they all drink a lot when they’re all together) but L never looks as though he goes on stage p*ssed. He tends to have beer on stage with him but never drinks the whole thing (I kind of feel like it’s a bit of a nervous habit, to have a drink there he can grab but not to be necessarily knocking it back show). I mean he definitely looks like he drinks a lot post show but we never hear of him turning up to meet fans drunk or smelling of booze (and there dont seem to be any major boozy stories about him doing something bad because he was drunk - oh apart from breaking his arm!) so I’m on the fence about whether or not he does have unhealthy drinking habits or not. He seems pretty controlled and put together with the occasional post show drunken/stoned selfie!

What are your thoughts?

I guess I just want a healthy Louis.

Hello anon! Apologies for the hold up on this, I wanted to do a good and thorough job at responding because it is a sensitive topic, for sure. I’m not sure how much you dabble in substances, your age, or your experiences with said substances, so what I say may feel like it’s still too much, but yeah, I hope I can provide you with some reassurance. So, lovely anon, welcome to the show!

TW for alcohol and drug use

Drinking and drug use is heavily glorified, over indulged in, and used as a crutch in the entertainment industry, but often times you only hear the worst of it. You’ve got the stories of overdoses, media analysing stars because they look drunk performing on stage, and artists having a bad/shocking image because they partake in alcohol/drugs depending on who their demographic is (zouis weed video, for example).

It’s often used as a coping mechanism, to just take a bit of the edge off. This doesn’t mean that all artists use it to an extreme extent to where they can’t perform/can’t live without it (like it’s portrayed in A Star is Born), and don’t get me wrong, some do, but from what I’ve seen and my pals and colleagues in the music industry have seen, Louis doesn’t overindulge.

I mean, they’d have a drink (or multiple) for the same reasons as we do, to just… chill out the nervous system, or carry on the energy. Dissipate some anxiety before going on stage and while on stage, calming down your body and mind from the adrenaline afterwards, partying and carrying on a bit more heavily if you’re celebrating. I’ve toured, not to the same extent as L or H, but it becomes quite normalised within people from the artist’s direct team, their direct touring crew, to the promoters, to the artist’s personal friends. It’s SO much work putting on these shows and travelling and when everything goes well, it’s a huge relief and time for a beverage or a joint. It’s just kinda… very normalised, which is also really bad, but Louis, from what I’ve seen and heard, is smart with it.

You’re correct in saying he isn’t drunk on stage, he doesn’t smell like substances (only cigarettes but that’s a whole other story), and only has 1 beer on stage.

His rider is pretty standard too. Artists over order so they don’t need runners to go get them stuff causing a delay. And then they take whatever they don’t finish to the hotel with them or whatever. If you were famous you’d wanna milk the free stuff 100%, so yeah, if that is a cause of concern for some fans seeing the leaked LATAM rider, I can assure you that it doesn’t go that far between the amount of people in his band and crew. It’s just… very normalised, but doesn’t happen every night.

Louis also just loves to dabble in the devils lettuce (im super annoyed that I have a story about this that I can’t share but he’s fucking hilarious) and loves a drink. Alcohol is also super normalised and encouraged in the UK, and here in Australia too. So I see a lot of it and it’s just kind of a thing you… do. It’s more so if you don’t drink, people are like ????? Hahaha.

So growing up in a country where it’s very normal to drink a beer or get pissed, it’s kind of engrained, and then being in an industry where it’s also normalised, it’s 100% natural to lean into it. When I drink on tour, it’s certainly less often than artists, but it’s just a social celebration thing and it’s kind of expected to a degree. In my opinion, and from what I’ve seen of him going on tour, he doesn’t have a problem nor loses any professionalism on or off the stage. He’s very serious about making these shows good and proving himself.

When I was backstage with him at one of these shows, he was in a green room that wasn’t too far from my office. He is so LOUD and hearing his giggle and talking shit was so wild hahaha. I could smell cigarettes, and heard him and his band/crew do a shot before the show, but apart from that I think maybe they had one or two beers in the late arvo together. I don’t clean/service green rooms so I can’t tell you 100% how much they drank, but it was pretty lowkey. I also don’t think he gets stoned before going on stage (I would’ve smelt it). I think it’s purely an after show fun time which also helps him sleep from jet lag/adrenaline etc. like I mentioned earlier.

He eats well, and while not as healthy as H, still filling food and has an appetite (im talking during the day, not the wild amount of munchies he orders post show), so he’s not letting alcohol/nicotine curb his appetite to that point. He did have bottle service at his hotel on a couple of those nights, too. But again, the bigger indulgence seems to be post show. He’s overall still healthy.

From what we’ve seen, it would be very easy to spot if he was going too far. He’s 100% in control and uses it as a small crutch like a lot of us do due to the intense stress of our jobs. Tbh he also just likes a drink and a joint or two and there’s no reason to worry. Hell, I like a drink or a joint or two and im good at my job, know when to stop, and uphold my professionalism to a high standard. There’s truly no reason to worry, he’s just louder about it than the other boys (I’ve heard that Niall gets on it just as much, but we don’t see it).

Now, it may seem like im making excuses for the industry or for Louis or whatever, but truly, it kinda is what it is. There has been a small but significant shift in the industry around drinking and drug use though, and how it affects mental health, which is great. In Australia, we have a resource called “Support Act” which is an organisation that now has a 24/7 wellbeing hotline for artists, industry folks, and crew, and while it has been around since 1997, it is obviously far bigger and more accessible now due to technology etc., and has great resources. The UK similarly has “Music Minds Matter”, and there are multiple around the US. So there is definitely a larger awareness on the toll touring and an industry career can take on you, and I have no doubt that Louis is aware of his limits and has supportive and wonderful people around him.

Wow okay this turned into a whole other thing. Sorry!!! Hahaha. Look, in short, he drinks nowhere near as much as other artists I’ve worked with (8 bottles of top shelf whiskey in one night thanks) and unless we see any cause for concern, im sure he’s okay, 100% in control, and just living his best life as a 32 yr old successful rockstar. Try not to worry!

[thestarstoasun]

A short drabble of Will & the Apollo kids + a sprinkle of angst

PROMPT: Michael,Lee and the other apollo campers realizing the new tiny blonde kid in the hermes cabin is the son of the Naomi Solace and freaking out.

(A/N: I very loosely followed the prompt in the end)

It wasn’t surprising when the new camper, a small blonde boy with blue eyes, named Will Solace ended up in the infirmary. The first time Lee had treated Will he had been walked in by Maron, a satyr Lee knew brought back tons of demigods, covered in marks from where Stymphalian birds had attacked him. At the time, Will hadn’t said much to him, or anyone else, but he listened well. “It’s nothing too bad. Here,” Lee placed a small piece of ambrosia in Will’s hand with a gentle smile, “this will help you feel better. Just eat that and you’ll be feeling as good as new in no time.” Lee ruffled Will’s hair and walked over to check on a nasty cut that Sherman Yang of the Ares Cabin had gotten during training.

That had been two weeks ago. Will remained unclaimed by his godly parent, while it was disappointing (but unsurprising), several campers including Michael Yew did their best to cheer him up. Hermes and Apollo were at archery together, a new concept that Chiron had suggested. While two different cabins were put together for activities, all of the campers knew the real hope was that the Gods would find promise in one of their unclaimed children during an activity and claim them.

As it turned out, Will was better than other campers with a bow and arrow, though just barely above bar by Apollo standards. Michael found himself drifting over to the boy to help him more and more throughout the session. “You're stance is good, but you need to work on focusing your aim at your target. Why don't you try setting the bow down and throwing the arrow to see if that helps?” He suggested.

Will let out a huff of air and kicked at the ground beneath his feet. “What if I'm just really bad? I'm not even good at holding a sword!” His voice wavered with emotion as his eyes welled with tears. Michael couldn't help but feel bad for him. Unlike most campers, he had been claimed his first day after shooting an apple off of Luke Castellan's head. (If asked, he would swear it was an accident, but some other campers seemed to disagree.)

“Look, Will, I can't say what you'll be good at and what you won't, as your godly parent hasn't claimed you.” The younger boy sniffled and focused his attention on the ground. “But what I can say is that not every demigod is good at the same stuff. I can barely heal to save my life. Yeah, I can give someone nectar and ambrosia, watch over them, give them mortal medicine, all that jazz, but I don't have Lee or my big sister, Juliet's, skill in medicine.” This made Will's eyes widen in shock, because all of the Apollo children were so gifted. (Luke told him it was because their father was the God of a bunch of stuff.)

“My Mama says that everyone has their own skills.” Will spoke up after a few minutes of twisting the hem of his shirt in his fists.

“Your mama sounds very wise.” Michael smiled and picked up the bow Will had been using.

“She is! She's a musician!” Michael noticed how Will's blue eyes seemed to move like the sky when he mentioned his mom. He figured just because he didn't have the best relationship with his own at a young age, the same didn't have to be for all demigods.

“Oh? What's her name? Maybe I know of her.”

“Naomi Solace.” Michael almost choked at the proud tone, not that it wasn't completely appropriate. Naomi Solace was an absolute icon in the music industry. Their head counselor, Sam - a warm, ivory guy who stood at 5 '11, who would be leaving after this summer, had brought a ton of her records and CD's from home to keep in the cabin.

“Seriously? You're Naomi Solace's son!?” The other Apollo kids turned their heads in excitement and began to crowd around them. Will just nodded his head nervously, afraid he had said something wrong.

“That's fucking awesome! We all love her!” Catherine, an umber toned Apollo girl with heterochromia, spoke up.

“Will is still a child, watch your tongue, Cathy.” Sam scolded with a fond, exasperated expression. Will found himself bursting out into a fit of giggles. He had heard much worse while on the road with his mother, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

“You have totally got to introduce us one day, little buddy.” Another Apollo child, who Will had forgotten the name of, spoke up. The children of the sun God had never been anything but welcoming, so after pretending to think about it for a minute Will grinned widely. “Alright, just remember your manners.”

The rest of the day, the Apollo cabin borrowed, or rather stole, Will so he could join them in their activities. While the boy enjoyed the company of the Hermes kids, he felt a sense of belonging that he couldn't place when he was laughing alongside the talented Apollo children. That night at dinner, instead of offering his food to Hermes, he sent an offering to the God of the Sun.

Please, I don't know if I am your son or not, but I really hope I am. I know I may not be as great as Michael or Catherine, but I feel connected to them. They feel like home….like mama…like sunshine.

[readythefanons]

2.5 minutes of kim being a hater about magic and teleportation

Kim voice lines + music

Duration: 2:28

Kim voice lines from GrandFrance on YouTube (link)

Music: “Future” by Ilya Myagkov from Pixabay

Put together in Audacity

More funky audios with DE voice lines + audio like this please!

comments and transcript below the jump

(screm) This one is just… It exists solely to make me smile. I think it is very funny. Kim being an absolute hater about magic and the supernatural and teleportation… (chef’s kiss) I hadn’t appreciated how many lines he has about the supernatural he had before this. GOD.

Obviously, this piece was composed with the “you just climbed the ladder!” line in mind. Everything else got pulled into make that possible. This is also a piece where I swapped out the music halfway through.

Fun fact: the teleportation sound is actually two sound effects layered over each other, to give it that slow, dramatic build and then the sudden arrival. Kim’s SFX is just one singular effect, though.

I actually love this one so much that I’ve shared it with another human person—I played it for my partner one time because I was so pleased.

My only negative association with this piece is that I thought Kim said, “You just climbed it like a normal person.” I’m sad he doesn’t use those exact words because in my heart, Harry’s reply is “Ah-ha, you said I’m normal.”

==transcript==

We should continue our search, perhaps even get a little desperate.

So, how do we get in there?

Perhaps you can climb them. We're not climbing anything. I'm 43 years old -- and I plan to live to see 70.

Good, good, yes. Cold spells.

Of course. Black magic. The most potent type of magic.

Which school do you subscribe to? Mambo or jambo?

Hangovers do give officers superpowers. Many drink only to receive… the gift.

I didn’t know that was even possible. It must be a great burden.

All the detectives from all the Precincts who experience extrasensory perception go to the Remote Viewers Division. Their work is invaluable to the force.

No. Because they don’t exist. There is no “gift.”

(sigh)

Teleportation is not a thing.

We are dealing with basic physics here. This really has nothing to do with adventure.

Okay, let's say teleportation is a thing. Wouldn't you need some kind of... scientific apparatus to create a teleportation field? You can't just do it without apparatus.

Wow, a real intellectual, it sounds like.

No, detective. The only reading I’ve been doing is right here.

No.

That ladder is not climbable.

Oh, yes, it could hurt a lot.

Honestly? I prefer non-acrobatic solution to this. But… what else can we do?

What do you mean, “Feel?”

Yeah, that doesn’t look good at all.

Please, don’t try to climb the building. There has got to be another, more age-appropriate way in.

Enough of that now, officer.

What the hell are you doing?

Zoom! Bam!

You know, for the record, you didn't teleport there! You just climbed the ladder with your eyes closed. You just climbed it, like a regular person.

Ah… fuck it.

zap

No need to be melodramatic.

Who knows, detective? it’s a… mystery.

[etherealeddie]

Woodstock ‘99 - Part 1

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader

Story Summary: A hopeless romantic hippie meets a roughed up metalhead at what is supposed to be beautiful, peaceful, music-filled weekend. But even amongst all of the chaos, there may be some peace. 

Part Summary: You chase love all the way to Woodstock ‘99, hoping to find what your parents did in 1969, but you find yourself stuck in hellish crowds and reaching for any hands to pull you out. 

CW: Use of weed, maybe some alcohol, rough crowd, but I think that’s everything. Let me know if I missed any!

Authors Note: This was originally going to just be a one shot but I got a bit too into it and decided maybe a short series was better!

Word Count: 1.2k

You grew up with two very interesting parents, to say the least. From a young age you were taught kindness, peace, and love, and learned quickly in school that most people were not raised with these same values. 

It’s like you came out of the womb with a flower crown on, singing Imagine by John Lennon. None of that was really surprising though, you’d been the love child of two hippies who met at Woodstock and lived in a van.

It wasn’t until you were a toddler that they decided settling down in a house was a more stable environment for a kid. They chose a small trailer, in a small town, in the big state of Arizona, and you loved it. You loved having a room and space, and you loved being able to spend time with your parents without motion sickness and seatbelts. 

By the time you were 10, you could recite your parents' love story word for word as your mom told it, and you told everyone. 

“My mom had just broken up with her boyfriend and hitched a ride to Woodstock in ‘69 just looking for new friends and community. My dad says he was friends with someone who was friends with Janis Joplin, but I think he was just there to sell weed!” You’d say, giggling to your 5th grade teacher. She would smile along, knowing she should have a talk with them about what is and isn’t appropriate for kids your age.

You’d been so obsessed with their meet-cute that you’d only dreamed of having your own. So when Woodstock ‘99 was announced, how could you not get a ticket? You weren't going to pass up the opportunity to experience the kind of love and community your parents always talked about, and maybe find some more like-minded friends. 

Sure, the bands this year weren't the kind of bands you’d really associate with Woodstock in your head, but they couldn’t be that different from ‘69. Maybe you’d be a part of a new kind of movement, something to better the world. That’s what you wanted most. 

So July 19th of 1999, you piled into your parents' old van-home with a few of your friends, ready to be enlightened and experience what your parents once had. The 35 hour drive was long and grueling but you and your friends didn’t seem the least bit distressed. It would be a long journey, switching drivers every few hours, talking about the excitement ahead, and what you all expected out of the weekend.

━

Once in the venue, you realize it’s an old air force base. There are no flowers, little to no healthy grass, and a LOT of people. You try not to let that bother you too much, it’s just the venue. It doesn’t mean the people and experience are going to be any less fulfilling.

You and your friends quickly find a spot to pitch the small tents you brought and begin to walk around to get a feel for the weekend ahead.

Navigating between people, with your best friend Avery in toe, hunt for the bathrooms and vendor area so you would be able to find them quickly later.

“I can’t believe we're actually here. Like really here.” She says, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen her smile before.

“Me either, honestly. I know he’s not until the last day, but I am so excited for Willie Nelson, it’s going to be so good!” You reply, trying to politely push your way through the throngs of people ahead of you.

“Yeah, but Korn is tonight. That’s going to be absolutely killer.” Avery says, silently thanking you as you reach your hand back to hold hers so you don’t lose each other.

Avery didn’t grow up like you did. She was a lot more “city”. She was more into rock music and was most excited for Korn and Metallica, and although you shared the same values in humanity, you showed it a bit differently. 

She liked loud and proud activism. You liked peaceful yet impactful activism. But at the end of the day, as long as you were fighting for the same thing, did any of it really matter? As long as positive change was made, who cares if you hugged it out or screamed into the faces of oppressors. 

━

You and your friends smoke a joint or two and sit on the outskirts of the large crowd for most of the concerts throughout the first day. Avery is hellbent on pushing herself as much to the front as she can for Korn, and she's taking you with her.

The set change is about 20 minutes, and the crowd separates a bit, making it easier to move forward, but it's still a pretty tight squeeze. Avery holds your hand so tight you think she may break your wrist. 

You manage to get pretty close to the front, maybe 10 or 15 people ahead of you by the time you see Jonathan Davis enter the stage. Avery freezes, wide eyes on him, she screams. 

You quickly put your hand in hers, knowing keeping track of your friend is your only goal for the entire set. You didn’t know much of Korn’s music anyway, just a few songs she’d played for you over the course of your friendship. 

The show goes on, and the crowd is getting rowdy. Mosh pits opening in every corner, people screaming and throwing things, and it’s not necessarily bad, you just aren’t ready for it. 

A small pit opens right next to you and you see Avery get excited, she smirks, and before you have a second to say anything, she runs into the pit. For the few minutes she’s moshing, you see her body multiple grown men and you breathe a sigh of relief. You know she can handle herself, but these people are far more aggressive than you had expected. 

As the set comes to a close, you can feel the energy and buzz of the audience. It’s much more abrasive and driven than you can handle, but there's no way to get out of this crowd easily, so you and Avery stay put, arms intertwined to keep together.

The next band is newer. They’ve been around for a few years but had just signed onto a label, and this is probably the biggest show they’ve ever played. You’ve heard of them from Avery before, she had seen them once before in a much smaller venue, maybe 50 people, and she said they were “pretty okay”. 

An announcer comes out onto the stage, grabbing a microphone and yelling.

“How incredible was THAT, you guys?” He yells, earning cheers and excitement from everyone around you.

“Hope you all saved some energy for this next group. They're new on the scene and ready to rock. Everybody, this is Corroded Coffin!” He yells again as the 4 members come out and you’re frozen as the lead singer hits centerstage. 

If he’s nervous, you can’t tell. You take in his appearance completely. From his ripped jeans and battle vest, to his long curly hair. 

Eddie Munson, although you don’t know his name yet, is the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

[danceworshipper]

@hphm-ship-week Prompt 7: Ball

Years ago I was assigned the Celestial Ball for a quest rewrite event started by @carewyncromwell and completely didn't do it. Here's a scene from what I would have written

Ship: Quinn/Jae 🧚🏼‍♀️🤷🏻‍♂️

Date: April 22nd, 1989 (fifth year)

Content warning: A lot of swearing (Quinn's a sailor mouth) and a reference to underage drinking (doesn't actually occur)

Quinn toyed with a ruffle on her dress - magically altered, of course, because she was not going to wear a child's ball gown and nothing age appropriate was her size - and huffed another sigh. She should never have let her friends convince her to come tonight. The only parties Quinn went to were the ones hosted before every Quidditch match, where it was easy enough to make a quick appearance before fleeing with the excuse of needing to center herself.

Plus, at the Quidditch parties she could hide behind Skye's much louder personality. She sighed. Quinn hated that her whole team was older than her. None of them were here. Tonks was supposed to be staying with her, but had been dragged away by Tulip for some stupid prank that Tulip promised wouldn't ruin everyone's night. Quinn had her doubts about that. Her night was already ruined, because she was here and she was alone.

Shitty fucking best friend, abandoning her.

Most of the fifth years were on the dance floor. She had to admit that the planning committee had picked good music, but she didn't feel like humiliating herself by trying to dance. No, the snack table was where she'd be all night. Maybe Rowan and Ben's offer to 'not go' together was still available? Watching them play chess in the library or something had to be better than standing here sweating her ass off.

Quinn grabbed a cup of punch, telling herself that if Tonks wasn't back in ten minutes, she was gone. And she was taking the plate of chocolate pretzels with her.

"Want me to spike that?"

Punch went down the wrong pipe when Quinn jumped. Jae smacked her back as she coughed, laughing out an apology. Oh fuck, that was so embarrassing; that was not cute at all and now he probably thought she was even weirder.

Jae leaned against the wall next to her after she caught her breath. "You seem tense," he observed.

"Y-yeah," Quinn said, checking that she didn't cough any punch onto her dress.

"Not a party fan?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, me either," Jae said. "I'm mostly here for the snacks. I was serious, by the way. If you want something to take the edge off, I've got a little firewhiskey. Free of charge. Looks like you need it more than me."

She really did consider it, but Quinn shook her head. "Too many professors. Not worth the risk."

Jae smirked. "Ah, yeah, I forgot: Slytherins are cowards."

"Excuse me?" Quinn demanded. "Who's the one who's closed three damn Cursed Vaults? 'Cause it wasn't a fucking Gryffindor."

He nudged her arm, smug. "There ya go."

Quinn frowned. "Huh?"

"Not nervous anymore, are ya?" Jae clarified, and Quinn felt her face heat up.

"You did that on purpose," she accused.

Jae snatched a handful of Bertie's off of the snack table and carelessly tossed a handful in his mouth before saying, "Guilty."

Quinn hated that not only had she fallen for it, it had worked. She still didn't want to be here, but he'd distracted her enough that her nerves were much less erratic. It was only a matter of time before she said something stupid or did something stupid and Jae walked away to never talk to her again, though, and the night would be back to being a bunch of bullshit.

She toyed with a ruffle again, staring at her own nails against the fabric. They'd never been painted before because she was worried it would make her fingers look stumpier, but the shiny black polish actually looked nice with her skin tone just like Skye had said. Skye had been very invested in getting Quinn to the ball once it had been announced. It was one of those experiences, she'd said. Quinn had to go. Well, here she was, and this experience wasn't feeling worth it.

Jae passed her a plate full of chocolate pretzels.

"Those are your favorite, right?"

Shocked, Quinn just blinked at him.

"Tonks made sure to tell me," he said. "She was insistent I come check on you."

Bitch, she thought. Meddling fucking bitch.

"Nice dress," Jae continued. "I don't think I've ever seen you in pink before. Suits you."

Nerves were back.

Quinn gulped. "Thanks. Skye picked it out. I like your robes."

"Thanks. Tonks practically made me buy these, for some reason. She insisted they'd look good on me."

Jae really did look good. He must have gotten the robes customized; they fit him perfectly despite the fact that he shared her unfortunate height situation. Being short had never seemed to bother him, though. She wondered if he truly didn't care or if he was just good at hiding it.

Her eyes narrowed. His robes had pink accents that matched her dress.

Oh, those conniving fucking bitches. Skye and Tonks were trying to set her up - and Tulip was probably in on it too, getting Tonks away from Quinn so that she was alone when Jae came over. Fucking hell.

Jae's eyes narrowed, gears turning in his brain as he reached a similar conclusion.

"Clever," he said.

Quinn huffed. "Not what I'd call them."

He laughed, nudging her arm again. Despite the terrible betrayal, Quinn found herself starting to smile too. Jae's laugh was contagious.

"Hey, you want to dance?" he asked. "I think it'd make them lose their minds."

Bad idea. Very bad idea: she didn't know how to dance. But you know what? Fuck it. Jae probably didn't know how to dance either, and it would absolutely make Tonks freak out.

She smirked. "Yeah, sure."

[everyepisodeofallymcbeal]

S1 E3 - The Kiss

At least in this episode, Ally sticks to ruining her own life rather than ruining the lives of others. Ah, wait no she tries to ruin Cheanie's (sp?) life too.

My thoughts on this episode, with timestamps.

0:07

Starting early in the episode. Sitcoms love to make Jane Krakowski help her friends buy jeans.

1:07

OH! Georgia works AT Cage & Fish, I thought she worked at a different firm.

OH! The sexual tension between Georgia and Ally is palpable... knife through butter, etc...

1:12

Representing an anchor woman while dressed like an anchor woman... it's giving Theme Dressing.

2:34

They're friends now! It's official!

2:47

Billy got his wispy bangs fixed. RIP.

4:09

"Your first wife" is an incredible line. I will now be using that with any friend/acquaintance/enemy in their first marriage. Ally is so mean and a role model.

4:57

The Rules! I listened to a podcast about this book. It's psychotic, regressive 90s guide to dating that was randomly super popular. Most of the rules are around how the MANN must pursue the WOMAN who should play COY and not LOOK LIKE SHE WANTS IT TOO MUCH. Interesting to see Gen X be interested in this style of courtship, while Millennials try to reject it but can't fully escape these norms, and Gen Z is too TikTok brained/anxious/incel to even date.

5:41

"I can see where you get your snappishness." Elaine absolutely calling Ally OUT for being an uptight virgin...

6:40

The girls are scheming and overthinking this date. Let me rewrite this scene, gender-flipped.

Alex McBeal: I'm going on a date tonight. Ricky Raddick: Hell yeah. Think you're gonna get lucky*? Alex: Heh, we'll see. -end-

*I tried using period-appropriate slang, acceptable for network TV.

8:10

Ok, I needed to do some research, who the hell is this woman singing throughout the series! Turns out, she is singer Vonda Shepard, who is "playing herself." Apparently her music from the show was very successful. Good for her! The 90s, a crazy time where you could make a living as a musician!

9:12

You can tell the Renee has fucked the twins; both separately, and then together. She has the eyes of a huntress and the spirit of an artist.

9:40

Ally is a bad liar! Girl, take an improv class! It sounds like you're having a stroke.

10:59

Not to quote an ex-Meta COO and génocidaire, but Ally if you want something, you need to Lean In! Advocate for yourself!

11:36

Renee is the voice of reason!

13:17

An era when people thought highly of TV news! Of TV! Of news! Of media! What a quaint era.

14:04

I do think it's interesting that the defense's legal argument is not "We did NOT fire her because of her age/looks" but is instead arguing "Yes we did fire her because of her age/looks, and THAT's ok!" This is why everyone needs a union.

15:09

The way Ally is eating chow mein one noodle at a time... she needs medical attention.

15:24

Popping over to her apartment unannounced... how did he get into the building... red flag...

16:32

More people need to take a note from Renee and BULLY Ally.

20:20

Cheanie showing up to Ally's office unannounced is problematic.

20:51

Wow, what if this was a genuine moment of reflection and change from Ally, where she learns the power of honesty and vulnerability? Hmm, I have a feeling it won't be, and she'll continue to ruin peoples' lives with the strength of her toxic personality.

21:02

Incredible delivery from Jane Krakowski.

22:23

Oh you just know he did something EVIL to that toilet and left the bathroom without washing his hands.

22:26

Bad personality, mostly.

22:51

So she was trying to Lean In.

23:50

"We're a stupid country." And this was BEFORE our brains were cooked from Covid and social media and Russian propaganda.

25:30

"a BLACK (look to judge) anchor...."

26:50

Still can't tell if this show takes sexual harassment seriously or not!

27:20

Cheanie's office is a living room? Styled like a living room?

27:57

Automatic door closer... It's giving Jigsaw. I would love to see Ally McBeal try to survive a Saw-like scenario. Not trying to sound like I'm pro-violence against women! But I think a little bit of violence against this woman is warranted.

31:20

Georgia is trying to seduce Ally. You don't look at another person like that unless you are trying to seduce someone. Ally, take the bait! Start playing footsie under the desk. Tell Elaine to go home. Press the close button on your automatic door closing remote that everyone seems to have...

33:13

I love those quirky button details on Ally's blazer.

35:33

Are they... straight up showing horse shit on TV? I'm sure there was some meeting with network execs where they were like "Ok, you can show the shit hitting the ground, but NOT the hole, nor the shit coming OUT of the hole."

35:56

Mr. Mustache has bad friends.

37:16

For reference, $400,000 in June (I had to guess a month) 1997 is the equivalent of $787,536 in December 2024 (latest month the Bureau of Labor Statistics has data on, as of this writing).

However, according to data from the Federal Housing Finance Agency, a home in Boston purchased in Q3 1997 for $400,000 would be worth approximately $1,806,549 as of Q3 2024. That doesn't have much to do with this episode, I just think that's neat.

39:09

Sorry, what the fuck is this episode trying to say about independence? I think they went too far with "we're trying to explore an issue, not say what's right or wrong" and ended up saying nothing at all. Or maybe they said something and it's didn't make sense! Idk I've been doing so much writing about this episode.

40:30

Replace. Smart. Phones. With. Beepers. And. A. GPS!

That's all I need! And get rid of QR code menus at restaurants!

41:20

$930,000! That's so much more money! That's... that's... ugh, I don't know, it's late. If you want to find the current amount that equates to vis a vis inflation, or the equivalent home price, you can find that out for yourself. It's late.

42:37

"Who says I'll end up alone?"

I hope so! That's like, the whole point of this TV show is that you're a hapless single woman in the city! Sure, the city is Boston, but I can put that aside.

[easypeasylindyvesey]

Summary: After the unforeseen death of Abby’s boyfriend, one of the NHL’s star defenseman and her teammate, she severely struggles with managing her grief. She confides in Jimmy Vesey, who is not only another teammate of hers, but is one of the very few people she has a strong friendship with. That is until that night and the days that followed. Does this life-altering news change the trajectory of their personal perceptions of each other? Or does it entail a chance of crossing boundaries for the risk of moving on?

Word Count (excluding title and heading): 8,446

*(General) Warnings: (foul) language, mentions/discussion of death, suicide attempt (brief, closed door description), eventual confession of feelings, grief, panic attack(s), angst, eventual sexual implications but no smut, age gap (24-25/33-35)

----

JANUARY 2028  (Warnings: foul language (omg that’s it?? wow. i’m evolving!))

Did I start off the year in the way I anticipated? Obviously not. When do I ever?

I’m reminded that New York winters tend to be colder than my heart. There have already been two instances where practice was cancelled because of snow, and we just ended up having free days off. Of course, that affected the outcome of some games, but nonetheless, we’re reacting to it appropriately.

And on an unexpected day off, what does Jimmy want to do?

Drive to Brooklyn and go ice skating.

Well, we end up having to wait until the afternoon, around 3:00 or so, until it stops snowing and breaks out into a bright blue sky.

Glide at Brooklyn Bridge Park can not be compared to the Rockefeller rink by any means, but it’s never frowned upon to leave Manhattan and its repetitive antics behind for a little bit. There’s actually not too many people skating by the time we find a bench and lace up our skates, but that never hurt anybody.

“Have you even ever been here?” I ask Jimmy. “Just wanna know why you wouldn’t wanna go back to Rockefeller.”

“New year, new experiences,” is all he tells me.

I slightly nod. “Got it.”

“Besides,” Jimmy interjects, “the views are unbeatable. You can literally see the Manhattan skyline. Hey, if we look close enough, we might be able to find the apartment.”

“That is most certainly a long shot, but I’ll take your word for it.”

After our skates are tied, we step on the ice, doing casual skating motions to get used to it. Music is playing nearby, it’s really fucking cold, and based on the thin clouds over the horizon, I have no doubt there’s going to be a beautiful sunset.

We don’t automatically separate from each other, as both of us look around, taking in the views. I forget there’s so many different towns in New York to explore, especially when you’re based in the city. There’s Queens, Staten Island, the Bronx, and now Brooklyn. Maybe this should be a goal of ours this year: visiting the rest of the NYC boroughs. It’d be four new trips, all within a decent driving distance. It sounds a lot more reasonable than driving 6 hours to Boston and an even further drive to Toronto with Will.

Yeah. About that.

I let him know that I was definitely interested in still going up there during the All-Star weekend. He told me it would probably be the last 3 days. We’d take a flight out, have his parents pick us up at the airport, and just spend that time back at his house, getting to know his mom and dad. I’m still not certain it’s going to end up being a casual visit. There’s definitely something secret planned.

Whatever the case may be, I’m just looking forward to an actual trip. Jimmy doesn’t know about it yet, but if he ends up going back home for the break anyway, then there won’t be a use in telling him. Of course, it would end up being admitted on accident later on.

As for those two and their animosity toward each other, I’ve taken it upon myself to stay the hell out of it. I’m not saying that I won’t listen to the both of them, but I am not picking sides. The key is to hang out with them separately before I surprise them with the three of us going somewhere together, where they’ll be forced to get along. Being embarrassed in public has happened to everyone a fair share of times, but if they see two grown men getting into it, with one tiny woman attempting to break up their verbal scuffle, who is everyone going to look at first? Me.

In order to keep my mental sanity, I try to not entertain the possibility of that actually happening. I focus on where I am right now. As much as I would have been okay with hanging out at the apartment and spending our snow day in the way they should be utilized, I’m fine with Brooklyn and their fancy shmancy outdoor rink.

We start out by skating around the border of the rink, taking in the sights and strangers. Carefully moving around in slow, steady strides, observing the views around us, I break the silence before it gets to be too long. “I keep forgetting how relaxing this usually is.”

I can imagine Jimmy giving me a weird face in return. “That’s because you’re not under any pressure.”

I elbow him through his coat. “Yeah, and that we can go incognito, along with not having every moment of ours be televised.”

“There should be some sort of thing where we just don’t even end up playing a game,” he suggests. “Both teams compete in a speed contest around the rink, winner gets bragging rights and access to the best skate sharpening tools out there.”

“Don’t forget the trophy,” I remind him.

He sighs. “How could I forget about the plastic gold thing? Here Abb, want a gold star?”

Giving him a light shove, I start to skate a little further past him while maintaining enough space where we can hear each other. “I’m already a gold star.”

Jimmy pauses. “No, you’re silver at best.”

“And you’re bronze.”

“Hey, I can’t argue with that.” He catches up to me. “Single digit ice time doesn’t earn you medals.”

“Oh, would you cut it out?” I roll my eyes, smiling. “If you were not good enough to be in this league, you would have never been given the opportunity. You would not be here right now. Living your best life in New York doesn’t happen for the weak.”

“It is most certainly a life,” he trails off.

I take that comment with a hint of sarcasm instead of choosing to analytically reflect on it. I’m not sure if it’s what he truly meant, but I am not ruining the mood by asking.

We make it halfway around the rink before I stop short and he almost trips over my skate. “The hell you stoppin for?” He breathes out.

 I skate toward the glass rail. “The sky.”

It’s a 50/50 mesh of pink and orange, with the slightest tinge of yellow. I start fumbling in my coat pocket for my phone, taking off my glove so I can unlock it and open my camera, snapping a couple pictures before opening Instagram and taking a picture with that camera for my story highlight. After putting the location, I make sure it fully uploads before closing the app.

Turning around, I notice Jimmy’s phone is out too, aimed toward the top of the sky. I try jumping on my skates to photobomb the view.

He shakes his head. “Lemme get a pic of you.”

I scrunch up my face. “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s finally gonna be in one.”

I give him a little smile and lean against the rail, keeping it plastered on my face as I keep an eye on the camera lens.

After what I can imagine one too many pictures, unless he took a burst, he lowers his phone and looks toward me as if he’s going to drift off. “Stay here.”

And so he glides away. My best explanation is that he’s going to ask someone to take a picture of us. Sticking to that goal might not end up seeming like too much of a challenge for him after all.

It’s really unfortunate because I wanted us to have a pic together on New Year’s Eve. Since he got slightly buzzed and somewhat altered the mood, I’m not sure if there was ever going to be a good time to ask. I know it wouldn’t have worked after he stormed off. He was already in somewhat of a mood before everyone arrived. I guess it worked in my benefit, because staring at the potential photo we could’ve had would only be outweighed with bad memories instead of good. And I’m so tired of the bad.

As I continue to admire the view, out of the corner of my eye, I see him approach me next to the rink and tap me on the arm, whipping around as I catch him looking at me. “Gotta switch spots,” he informs.

Skating in front of him, I move over to the left side, and since I’m already left-handed, I feel more comfortable taking pictures if I’m on the left. I don’t know if there’s a justifiable phenomena for that, but it never fails.

A random couple stands in front of us, with the man holding Jimmy’s phone in his hand. “All right guys!” He says enthusiastically. “Smile!”

So we do.

The phone is lowered and returned, us exchanging “thank yous” and continuing to remain by the rail, taking in the view. Winters have some of the best sunsets, and I’m fortunate enough to live in a place where I can experience each of the four seasons.

“I’ll send it to you later,” Jimmy tells me.

I nod. “Okay.”

He’s able to pick up on the short response. “You alright?”

I gaze out, fixating on the skyline. “Yeah.”

“That didn’t sound convincing.”

“Well, then. You caught me.” I lean my arms over the rail.

“He painted such a nice view tonight,” Jimmy nudges my shoulder. “It’s almost as if he knew we’d be here.”

My face contorts. “I don’t think so.”

“Hey, come on. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be doubtful.”

“I’m not being doubtful. Just thinking rationally.”

He sighs, the frost leaving his mouth. “Not always your best approach.”

I don’t even bother to argue back, so I stand up and return the favor by nudging him. “Don’t test me.”

“Oh, I could never do that,” Jimmy defends. “Otherwise I’d be pushed over the rail.”

“And down into the water?” I smile. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

“You know what I would pay good money for?”

“Me moving out?”

“I was gonna say us going all the way this year, but I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed.” He flashes me a smile to prove he’s joking. Deep down in wherever his soul might be, I know he’s not.

I don’t respond.

“Am I crazy to think that?” 

“No.” I watch the colors in the sky start to sink lower. “Not at all.”

I feel a shiver roll down my spine. Either it’s due to the cold or perhaps it’s my nervous system warning me in some way.

“It’s definitely not out of the question,” Jimmy suggests quietly.

“Never,” I curtly reply. “Everyone’s gotta be willing to put in the effort, that’s all.”

I listen to the sound of nearby speakers, blasting music so everyone around the rink can hear it.

“It’s just not really what I’m thinking about right now, you know? I don’t want you to get so far ahead that you’re missing out on what you currently have.”

“Trust me, I won’t. This entire thing feels like a documentary.”

“Should we go book a film crew?”

“Can’t be that hard.”

“No, wait.” I pretend to ponder. “You might be onto something. This could make great reality TV!”

It really could.

We get ourselves off the rink and return our skates before beelining toward the Jeep and preparing for our 10 minute ride back, which turns into 25 because of traffic. New year, same shit.

The apartment, for whatever reason, feels colder as we walk back in, which does not help with the slush we dragged in on our shoes. We let them sit by the door in hopes it’ll melt while hanging up our coats.

“Same time next snow day?” Jimmy jokes, walking across the floor.

I remain by the door. “Book it.”

“Want me to make dinner?”

Sarcastically, I take my hand and hold it near my chest. “You would do that for me?”

“Long as I don’t burn the place down.”

I roll my eyes. “Shut up. You won’t.”

“Anyway,” he says, changing the subject, “you got any ideas?”

“I’m thinking chicken fettuccine alfredo, but there’s no alfredo sauce, so I’d resort to pesto sauce instead.” 

“Sign me up. You want to take your shower first so that I don’t interrupt when you’re cooking?”

Since when has he acted this thoughtful? I’m starting to think never.

I give him a little smile. “If you don’t mind…”

“Yeah, go for it.” He walks over to the coffee table and retrieves the remote. “No rush.”

Could this be the turning of a new leaf I’ve been waiting for??

No, it’s not. Don’t get sucked up in his little act.

Heading into my room, I look around my closet and find my Martha’s Vineyard shirt. Damn. I actually forgot about that.

It’s ironic I haven’t even worn it once yet. 

After finding a pair of sweats in my dresser drawer, I tuck the pajamas under my arm and head for the bathroom, shutting the door and turning on the light before pulling out the faucet and watching the water fall out. I take a look at myself in the mirror. My face is still red from the cold. Other than that, everything about my appearance remains unchanged.

As I step into the shower and pull the curtain closed, I feel like I could stay in here forever. Warm water is severely underappreciated during the winter. I’ll pay the heating bill, for all I care. Surely, Jimmy wouldn’t mind if I took an expense off his plate.

I cut my shower time incredibly short because I truly am hungry, so I dry off, change, and throw my hair up into an unbrushed ponytail, opening the door and walking out of the bathroom, retracting back onto the tiled floor to turn off the light. Going back into my room, I put my towel and underwear in my laundry basket and head back out into the kitchen.

My feet stop abruptly, as I’m taken aback by the sound of boiling water.

Jimmy turns around, standing near the pot. “I just dropped the fettuccine in there,” he says.

Questioning his tactics, I ask him, “You threw in a pinch of salt?”

“Course I did. You don’t wanna be eating bland pasta.”

Okay. This turning over a leaf thing might be real after all.

“You want me to cut the chicken?” 

I shake my head. “It’s already cooked. Just some left over.” I tug at my fingers. “But thanks.”

“Yeah, always.”

“I can take over.” Walking up next to him at the pot, I stir the pasta with the silicone spoon. “You go get a shower.”

“Sure you don’t want my help?” He insists.

I smile, meeting his eyes. “You’ve already done more than enough. Thank you.”

He returns the smile and walks around me, footsteps trailing off into his room and then hearing the bathroom door close less than two minutes later. I take advantage of the alone time by finishing up dinner and having it prepared by the time Jimmy’s done with his shower, taking out two reasonably large bowls and placing them on the coffee table, each with their own utensils and TV on, airing various pregame shows. I retrieve our water bottles from our rooms and place them down next to the bowls, cleaning out the pot by the time the bathroom door opens.

“You didn’t eat without me, did you?” is the first suspicious assumption he makes when he reappears.

“No,” I say over the running water. “It’s already on the table.”

“Oh, sweet,” he says in return, hearing him sit down on the couch as I start drying the pot with the dish rag, placing it back into the cabinet and going over to join him.

Sitting on the other end of the couch, I reach for my bowl and focus on the TV. We sit in silence for a few minutes while trying to figure out how to initiate a new conversation.

“So, uh, quick little question,” I say.

“I might have a quick little answer,” Jimmy replies. I can only imagine one of those dumb smirks appear on his face.

“Are you, uh, staying here during the All-Star break?”

The sound of a fork lightly scrapes against his bowl. “I haven’t fully decided yet, but I’m leaning toward going home.”

I remain quiet.

“We’re not obligated to be here anyway, so I don’t wanna have to stay here if I don’t need to.”

Well, that’s the thing. You stayed here all summer.

“But yeah, I’m definitely getting outta here. Why, you wanna come with?”

I turn my head to look at him. “No, no, no, I’ll stay here.”

“By yourself?” 

My lips draw together. “Why not? I’m not gonna destroy anything.”

“I know that, but I just would hate for you to be alone in here.”

That’s the other thing. I won’t be. Not in here, at least.

But I’m not gonna tell him, probably ever.

“You need a break,” I say. “You’ve quite literally been confined to this place. It’d do wonders. Trust me.”

“Just don’t adopt a cat when I’m gone.”

I guffaw. “You’re right. I won’t.”

He nods.

“I’ll adopt two!”

“Okay, fine. That would be my final straw, though. I’d officially kick you out. Bring them back to your own place.”

“Why won’t you just admit you like cats?” I put a forkful of chicken into my mouth. “You wanna act all macho and say you like dogs, but something in that little brain of yours tells me you would not be opposed to a cute meowing creature running around here.”

“I’m not saying I don’t,” Jimmy seems to contradict. “I just like dogs a little bit more.”

Shaking my head, I turn up the volume. “Lame.”

“Alright, I get it,” he says sarcastically. “God forbid I wanna be mundane. Leave me alone, will ya?”

“Not until you decorate for holidays around here. You don’t have any-”

“I have nothing for Valentine’s Day, before you even ask. And no, I am not buying anything.”

Pointing in his direction, I reach for my water on the table. “Lame again.”

“Men don’t decorate. That’s more of a woman thing.”

“Hey, you’re not pulling the sexist card here. Men can decorate. Y’all just choose not to.”

“It’s weird.”

I make a mental note of that. “Fine. I’m not getting balloons for your birthday, then.”

“Good. I don’t need them.”

“You don’t want cake, either?”

“Just give me a bagel breakfast.”

“Done. No presents?”

“Nope.”

“K. Don’t act all surprised when you don’t see any wrapped boxes.”

“I won’t. I’ve got a good poker face.”

“Have I seen it?”

He extends his arm and pushes my shoulder. “You will in 4 months.”

“Can’t wait.”

For the next 40 minutes, we watch the first period of a game, raving about how good dinner is, along with voicing our own commentary. I want to nitpick his brain a little more in terms of him leaving for break, only so I can plan accordingly. The trip to Toronto will be toward the end, so I have to figure out what I’ll be doing for the beginning. Maybe I will take advantage of the empty apartment.

Or maybe I can pay my condo a visit.

It won’t be the permanent one.

During the 2nd period intermission, both of us finish dinner, so I take our bowls to the sink and wash them out before loading them in the dishwasher. When I close it, I lean back against the countertop and take a minute to watch Jimmy in his rare state of contentment. 

Not being surrounded by that for a week will be odd. I shouldn’t even jump to conclusions yet. I still don’t have a timeframe as to when he’s leaving.

Only difference is he has the full ability now to not even walk back through the door.

—------

“Sure we’re going the right way?”

I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, gloved hands being shoved into my coat pockets. “Jim, we’re literally not going anywhere.”

“So we’re just, walking around aimlessly? That’s the whole point of this?”

Letting out a long sigh, I resume walking. “It’s called a walk for a reason, dumbass.”

We’re continuing our streak of outdoor activities, and nothing says outdoor activities like a walk around the city. I insisted we get out of the apartment for a bit since all we’ve recently been doing is rotting away, and although this is as mundane of an idea as it sounds, we can freeze our asses off in another way.

It’s almost noon, with the sun reaching its highest peak in the sky. Bundled up in our coats and hats, we welcome the cold air to invisibly hit our faces, meaning that we’re also open to the inevitable consequences of frostbite and crimson-colored cheeks when we go back. I’m glad we’re doing this.

“Wanna go sledding?” I joke, pointing to the fresh blanket of snow after last night’s accumulation.

“You got a sled?”

“No. But we can go buy one somewhere!”

“There aren’t any hills around here,” Jimmy confirms to me. “Guess you’re out of luck.”

Listening to our shoes scrape against the slush on the pavement, we follow the curve in the sidewalk, finding ourselves walking further down through Manhattan. My senses heighten when I notice we’re slowly approaching Central Park, almost tripping off the curb because of that lone distraction.

“You sneak in a beer this morning?” I hear him ask.

“I don’t drink that shit.”

“Come on,” he teases. “Sure you didn’t have one?”

“I swear on his grave.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

Pointing my finger toward the Bethesda Fountain, I start speedwalking. “Look! The water’s spewing out!”

“Almost like you’ve never seen it before!” The sarcasm is extremely strong with this statement.

Ignoring Jimmy’s remark, I make it to the front of the fountain after having to pass several other people, because of the common social aspects you’ll notice in New York is how nobody likes to move. It’s as if they all want to get hit by oncoming traffic because they’re so consumed with the idea of wanting to replicate a statue, not knowing they could easily get pushed over by that one impatient person.

“Wanna go ahead and throw a penny in there?” He remarks again.

“I’m gonna throw you in there,” I mutter to myself.

“What was that?”

“I said that I am gonna throw you in that fountain,” I say loudly, on purpose, just so he can clearly hear me this time.

A few people look at us, and then divert back to what they were previously focused on. That’s another thing you’ll notice in New York. Everyone hears everything.

I’m honestly not surprised at how empty it is, considering how cold it’s been the last few days. This type of weather wants me curled up with blankets on the couch, watching TV, and drinking hot chocolate. But the more I think about it, I really feel the need to break free from the confinement and get outdoors. Winter is the season where you mainly stay inside, given the changes in the weather, but on days where you can watch the sun reflect off the snow, watching it glimmer, you almost start to think it’s not so bad for three months after all.

We walk closer to the fountain, watching the water make continuous circles, it also shining bright as the sun points down on it. I can almost see our reflections. Getting way too close would cause me to fall in. Then Jimmy would get the last laugh, and I’d hate him for it.

“Think it’s safe to drink?”

I turn my head to look up at him. “That’s your question?”

“I’m thirsty!” He complains.

“Then you should’ve brought water with you!” I mock at him.

“Wanna run across and pick up some coffee?”

“But we just got here!”

“We’ll come back!” He rolls his eyes. “God almighty, relax.”

I step closer, invading his personal space. “You don’t ever tell a woman to relax unless you want her to punch your teeth out of your mouth.”

As I trail off, waiting for him to catch up with me once again, I approach the door to the coffee shop on the opposite side of the fountain, holding the door open as I watch him shuffle over, hands in pockets, leaning out to grab the door as I step inside, relishing in the warm air that I have not felt since before we left.

Immediately, the indecisiveness has kicked in. Am I really in the mood for coffee? Or do I want to branch out and steer away from the norm?

So I order a hot chocolate while Jimmy orders his bland, boring, brutally brutal black coffee. Seriously, I don’t know how this man finds that appealing. Unless he tends to not find beauty in the small things. That actually makes sense to me.

We pay and walk back out the door and return to the fountain, opting to sit on a bench in the corner, far away from the people as possible.

“Don’t burn your tongue,” he tells me as I have my mouth on the opening of the cup.

I lower the cup and wrap my hands around the outside. “I’ll make sure your little friend gets the brunt of it,” I say, gesturing toward his lower half.

“I think it’d have its best effect if my pants were off,” he whispers. “Gonna wait till we leave.”

A devious smile forms on my face. “You’d really let me do that?”

“Oh, of course not,” he says, returning to his normal speaking voice. “That’d be a hospital trip, and quite an embarrassing one.”

“Just say it was an accident. You accidentally spilled it on yourself.”

“And it somehow seeped through? They’d know I’m lying.”

“I mean…it just sits there anyway.” I take a sip of my hot chocolate. “Doesn’t really serve a purpose.”

“How else am I gonna pee?” He looks around aimlessly, as if the answer will just fall out of the sky.

“You just won’t,” I say confidently. “Boom. Done.”

“I would love to know how your brain got wired like this.” He scoffs. “You sure didn’t learn it from me.”

“It’s literally been this way since I was seventeen,” I rush in to defend myself. “That wire exists in your brain, too.”

“Yeah, but not quite frequently. You change a normal conversation into an innuendo.”

“That’s where the fun is!” I tap the sides of my cup. “God, you’re literally so boring. Those thoughts are inevitable. It’s not like they’re…illegal or anything.”

“Just inappropriate.”

I pause. “Depends.”

“They about me?”

Thank goodness I didn’t take another sip when I was intending to because I would’ve choked. “Me? Dreaming about you? Ha! Never in a million years.”

“They about….” He continues pestering. “Another man?”

“Oh, get over yourself. No.”

“I overheard at New Year’s how you might get set up.” The intonation in his voice changes with those two words.

“Yeah, I already told them to not even think about it. I’m not ready for that.”

Jimmy nudges me in the arm. “Sure you are.”

“I’m not,” I deadpan. “Still way too soon.”

“Abb,” he says gently in case I start a riot in front of him, which I obviously won’t because we’re in public. “You can’t wait around forever.”

“Funny that you’re doing the exact same thing.”

“It’s different circumstances.”

“Sure, but I just don’t wanna feel unnecessary stress. I’d have to spill my trauma to a stranger. Does the sound of that not terrify you?”

“I mean, yeah, it sounds scary, but if he can’t handle it, let alone you, he doesn’t deserve an ounce of your time.”

I look down at my sneakers. “At least I can refute that since I already know a man whose been through it all with me.”

There’s a pause. “Tell him to give me a call if he starts fucking around with you.”

“Or what?” I turn to look up. “You’re gonna punch him?”

He shrugs. “Eh. Maybe make him lose a tooth.”

“Or burn his little friend,” I whisper hushedly, eyeing toward Jimmy’s lower half again.

“I am officially uncomfortable with this conversation,” he responds, to which I giggle. God, it feels so good to get under his skin like that.

Letting out a sigh, I watch the frost leave my mouth and disappear into the air, looking out at the fountain. I find it admirable how no matter what might be thrown in its path, whether it be inclement weather or the littering of city goers, it manages to continue standing tall, showcasing its beauty and strength. Perhaps that’s something I need to start doing. Maybe it’ll speed this process up so that I can stop thinking about it.

In an attempt to stop thinking about it, I change the subject. “Want me to set you up?”

Jimmy laughs. “Please. All the girls you’re friends with are taken. By our teammates.”

“I’m sure I could find someone. Or just create a fake profile for you on Hinge.”

“Yuck.” I watch his mouth interlock around the opening of his cup, swallowing a little bit of his coffee. “That is, quite literally, the wrong way to date. Filled with a bunch of lies and exploitation through dumb photos.”

“You’ll be happy to know I’ve never resorted to that.”

“Good,” he says, a little bit on the serious side. “You’re too authentic for that.”

I make sure to keep it brief, but I smile in the slightest.

“Besides, you’d be able to detect the lies right away. You don’t even have time to play games.”

I nod in agreement. “Yep. Not anymore.”

“But like….” Oh my God, does he have an off switch? “You wouldn’t be open to a fling?”

I take a few seconds to process what has literally just come out of his mouth before turning my head. “That’s literally considered a game.”

“Oh.” Stupid ass.

“Why? Would you?”

“I, uh-”

“Have done it before, haven’t you?” It comes out so serious as if his response could completely contemplate our friendship moving forward.

“N-no, I have not.”

And then a lightbulb appears atop my head. Right. He hasn’t done the deed yet.

But not all flings require that, right?

“Then what was the stutter for?” I form a smile. “You had to think about what you were gonna say, huh?”

“Just- just short circuited for a quick minute.”

I’m not buying it. “Uh huh. Sure.”

“I did!”

“Okayyy.” I watch a group of birds search around for crumbs on the brick pavement.

“Don’t you wanna get back out there, though?” God, he is so insistent on this. It’s not like it’s any of his business.

Standing up with my empty cup, I respond. “I do. Just not now when I’m having the concept being shoved down my throat.”

“That’s not- that’s not what I’m trying to do.” Jimmy rolls his eyes. “I’m just telling you to at least, even if it’s considered your bare minimum, put it in perspective.”

“I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are, and I’m getting really tired of it.” I walk away from the bench and over to the nearby trash can, discarding my cup before making my way back. Resorting to the opposite end, I sit down, staring out past the fountain, choosing to not engage in any conversation that could send us down into a spiral.

It’s a couple minutes before he says something. “You’re right.”

I keep looking ahead. “About?”

“Pressuring you into the whole dating thing.”

“You’re one to talk for someone who isn’t even doing it.”

“And that may be true, but I’m just-”

“Looking out for me, I know,” I say annoyedly. 

He looks at me, eyes softening. Or maybe squinting due to the wind, who knows. “Not all hope is lost.”

I cock my head. “What are you implying?”

Now he softly smiles. “The truth.”

“Oh, shut up,” I say, my smile getting the best of me.

The corner of my eye picks up the movement of his hand as he pushes himself off the bench and stands before turning around. “I bet you won’t do that on the walk home.”

Lifting myself up, I flash him a smug look. “You thought wrong.”

I follow Jimmy through the sparse crowd and find ourselves back on the sidewalk in no time, braving the nipping winds and the end of morning traffic to return to the one place where there actually is heat. The hot chocolate counts, I guess. Even though it provided me with a temporary feeling of warmth, it lasted longer than anticipated.

And yes, we talk the other ear’s off for the 20 minute walk back. What else is there to do?

Well, just as we turned the corner of the street where the complex is, I stopped walking to see if he would notice, which he didn’t at first, but I picked up a clump of snow and rolled it into a ball with my gloves, and decided on where to aim it, before deciding on his back.

He stopped walking and turned around quite slowly, a confused expression on his face. “That was you?”

I look from side to side. “No…”

Bending down on the sidewalk, it’s his turn for his glove to be filled with snow. “You’re dead.”

Backing up, I try to outrun it, but it hits me at the hood of my coat, a couple pieces trickling down past and down the back of my sweatshirt. “No, you’re dead!”

Returning the favor, I make another snowball, throwing it straight at his midsection, planting my feet on the ground in case he tries to make a run for it.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t, so I bend down to create another one.

Until I’m quite literally swept off my feet as I’m lifted into the air, snowball falling to the pavement and breaking apart as I squeal. “What are you doing?!”

“Seeking my revenge!” 

“Put me down!”

“Are you forgetting something?”

I sigh, feeling my lips grow even more chapped. “Please put me down.”

As I sense the change in gravity, it’s another abrupt gesture that, this time, does not involve getting hit by snow, but rather me hitting it, as I feel my back hit the blanket of snow, my entire body almost covered in the white flakes. Thank goodness it’s fluffy and not rock hard.

And then my legs buck up to meet his, which I guess you could say is the initial catalyst for feeling the entire weight of his body fall on top of me, a low chuckle vibrating from his mouth as I continue laughing. In that moment, I don’t feel like I need to push him off of me. This, unlike the past two instances which involved body contact, is more of a tease rather than a proposed trick up his sleeve.

We spend a couple minutes looking at each other while we feel the snow start to seep into our clothes before Jimmy rolls over next to me, lying in the snow and letting out a sharp exhale, but one that’s filled with adrenaline in contrast to anxiety, dusts himself off, and then helps me up.

Our physical imprints will remain in that very spot until they’re covered up. But both of us know the truth.

—-----

“Over here is the kitchen, which is also easily accessible through the living room area,” the leasing agent explains to Will and I. “Plenty of storage space, room for pretty much anything your heart desires.”

We take a look around. I accompanied Will, as promised, to an apartment tour in Flushing. It’s pretty much a studio apartment, but it’s only for him, anyway. I, for one, would say it’s been a nice living space to see so far, however, I’m just here for support, and by no means trying to influence his opinion. Besides, he still has 2 more scheduled tours after this one, none of which until next week, so he’s keeping all of his options close together.

“And if you’ll follow me,” the leasing agent continues, listening to her heels click on the marble floor and down the hallway, “behind this door is the main bedroom.”

When the door pushes all the way open, my jaw could quite literally drop.

“That window is fucking huge,” I whisper, stepping onto the carpet.

“You’re right about that,” Will says, similarly taken aback.

The room itself is big, with a king bed, nightstand tables boarding both sides, a closet, and then, the big elephant in the room, the gigantic ass window. It’s safe to say he’d have to buy more than one pair of floor-length curtains to cover that.

“Quite the view,” the leasing agent pipes up. “Especially at night.”

“Hell, I could see myself living here,” I joke. “Been here for almost three years and it still never fails to amaze me.” I turn around to look at Will. “Think of all the sunlight you’ll get in here!” I exclaim, gesturing to the sun rays reflecting on the carpet.

“I’ll keep it in the back of my mind.”

We’re shown the in-washer and dryer unit, along with the outdoor facilities, like the pool and tennis court, before Will takes the business card with the agent’s contact information and we walk back to his car, which is quite a walk since there was no space on the street.

When we get in, the engine turns over and I hear him exhale the loudest of sighs.

I turn my head in his direction. “Overwhelmed already?”

He looks at me. “I didn’t like it.”

I raise my eyebrows. “What? Why not?”

“I don’t know.” He fiddles with his beanie. “Not really my style.”

My eyes roll to the back of my head as we pull out of the parking lot across from the complex. “Is it, like, a space factor, or you just think it’s ugly?”

“I don’t think it’s ugly, per se, but I just wasn’t a fan.”

“So you wouldn’t be upset if I ended up renting it?”

Will’s eyes divert from the road before returning his gaze. “Wait, like, actually?”

“No, you bozo. I already have a condo.”

“That’s right, that’s right,” Will digresses. “Sorry. You’ve just been at the apartment for so long that I forgot you had a place of your own.”

Me too.

“Maybe we can stop by and you can give me a tour,” he suggests.

“Like, right now?”

“Unless you have anything better to do.”

I really don’t.

Instead, I nod, taking his phone and opening Maps, typing in the address. “Let’s do it.”

Around half an hour later, because, you know, city traffic and all, we’re standing in front of my door as I fumble with the keys, having the immediate realization that I still have the condo key attached on my lanyard, along with the ones belonging to the apartment and my car. I could’ve sworn I stored it away in a drawer or something.

Inserting the key into the lock, I swing the door open and both of us step up into the entrance, shuffling around the other as I shut the door behind me. “Voila.”

Will looks around, as if he’s totally engaged in the sights. Nothing has moved, nor changed since I was last here, which was over a month ago. Now that I think about it, the reality is kind of pathetic.

“Nice place,” he remarks. His footsteps continue moving forward past the TV and halting near the bathroom.

“It really is.”

“This is the kinda space I need. I mean, this is, like, what? A thousand square feet?”

I shrug. “I don’t know the actual estimates, but yeah, probably around there.”

He scans the couch, the carpet, the kitchen counter, the microwave, and finally turns the corner to look in the bathroom. “How do you not feel claustrophobic in here?” I hear him call out.

“Because it’s just me,” I answer back.

His face re-emerges. “Wayyy too small.”

“Oh, you need a bathroom the size of a mansion?”

“Sure. Gotta get that superstar look somehow.”

Rolling my eyes, I go to join Will, looking into my own bathroom for the first time, and I mean really looking at it since that night.

“I remember getting ready in here,” I say aloud, “for dinner.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Curling my hair, putting on my dress.” I sigh. “Anxiously waiting to be picked up.”

Still nothing.

“The last memory I had in here was a good one.” I shuffle behind him and walk into the doorway of my room. “Oh, how times have changed.”

I stand over toward my closet as I watch Will slowly enter, looking like a lost puppy. “Yeah, this is definitely a decent sized bedroom, too.”

“But I thought you wanted fancy shmancy richey shit,” I sarcastically whine.

He breaks out into a grin. “I’ve really failed if you’ve come up with the assumption that I have a self-entitled ego.”

“No, it’s just fun to push your buttons.” I smile back to prove I’m not lying.

I watch him walk over to the window and push the curtains aside, letting the sun pour through. “It’s a nice view.”

A puff of air slips between my teeth. “A very scenic one.” I walk over to stand next to him, pointing to the trees in the distance.

Will laughs. “And yet, there are no leaves.”

“Welcome to winter in New York. That’s why spring’s my favorite.”

“Not just because it’s your birthday?”

I shake my head. “No. Weather gets nicer, the sun’s out longer…” 

“And?”

“Would’ve been three years.”

That eerie silence infiltrates again.

“Abb, I am-”

“So sorry, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah.” I cut him off. “God. It’s crazy how time flies like that.”

“But you know what?” Will suggests. “There’s so much to look forward to this year.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Yep. There’s the rest of the season, Legoland…”

I can’t help but laugh.

“Toronto in a few days, my birthday, your birthday, Jim’s birthday.”

“As long as I don’t ruin it again.”

“You won’t.”

I let out a groan. “I hope so.”

“Maybe…signing a new contract?”

I give him a dumbfounded look. “Trying to pressure me, I see.”

“By no means at all.”

My concentration is on the bare trees. “I don’t know.”

“Abb,” he says somewhat seriously, “no one else is gonna mediate with me and Jimmy the way you have.”

“Hey, that’s not even my issue to fix,” I defend. “Whatever problems you have with each other have to be worked out between the both of you. I’m not picking sides.”

“And I would never expect you to, but it’s just stupid.”

“Which is why it needs to be talked about!” I roll my eyes. “But not now. You guys are my friends. I can’t make arguments saying that you’re each amazing and this and that because it’s all a bunch of crap. Grow up and hash it out, or maybe I will be the one that leaves.”

“Yeah!” Will exclaims. “Don’t even think of doing that.”

I walk back across the carpet and stop in the doorframe. “You’d see how easily provoked I can get.”

The sound of curtains shutting rings through my ears as I stand near the couch, waiting for Will to come out of my room. His keys escape the pocket of his coat, glancing around at everything one last time. “Ready?”

That word alone has me hightailing out the door, turning off the lights and securing the locks before we walk across the parking lot and back into the car.

When we’re finally on the road, Will breaks the quick moment of silence first. “I was only nagging you about the space because I just wanted to see how much extra I would have with the extra bedroom.”

I blink, then turn in my seat to look at him, eyes still remaining on the road. “Wait. You were actually serious about that?”

“I thought I made it perfectly clear. Anytime you get sick of him, between now and perhaps forever, or whatever! Even if you need to just get out of your own place.” The car stops at a red light and he shifts to look my way. “You can come stay with me.”

“I-”

“You don’t even need to tell him. Just come over.”

“I can’t do that.”

The car starts moving again. “And why’s that?”

Because it’ll only be a repeat of what I’m currently enduring.

“I’m just afraid of repeating the past.”

“What are you afraid of repeating?”

Leaning my head against the seat, I look up at the top of the windshield. “That night.” 

Taking a breath, I continue. “And everything else.”

We slowly enter back into Manhattan. Few words were exchanged after my ‘confession.’ I cannot make that decision again. If someone offers me to stay with them, even if they claim I won’t be imposing, and we’ll “work it out,” I won’t be doing it. I’ll deal with it all on my own. The last thing I want people thinking is “Hey! Look what the cat dragged in. Again!”

Will pulls up to the front of the entrance to drop me off. I unbuckle my seatbelt and have my hand on the door handle before he locks me in.

I turn around. “Hey, c’mon.”

“What’s the rush?” He drags out. 

I tap my fingers on the lock/unlock switch.

“So Vinny and I are gonna pick you up here, he’ll drop us off at the airport, and then we’ll board, fly in, and my parents will drive us back to the house. Just warning you right now they are very, very chatty.”

“Oh, great,” I say sarcastically.

“But they’re so excited to meet you, so just let them bombard you with questions, okay?”

I nod. “K.”

“And same thing, well, I guess, for when we leave. They’ll drop us off at the airport, we’ll fly back here, and Vinny will pick us up, drop you off back here.”

“Sounds like you already got it all planned out.”

“I do.” He adjusts the rim of his hat. “Is Jim going anywhere during break?”

I make an uncertain face. “He said he was thinking of going home, but I’m not sure yet. That’s why I wanna get back to figure out what the deal is.”

Will holds down on the unlock button, smiling. “You should’ve just told me that first. Go.”

I smile back. “Why, thank you.”

“No, thank you for coming with. It’s nice to not do these sort of things alone.”

“Yeah.”

Another bit of silence. 

I clear my throat. “Well, uh, I’ll see you.”

“We’ll let you know when we’re leaving to come get you, okay?”

“You got it. Bye.”

“Bye, future roomie.”

I stamp my foot. “God, shut up,” I mutter under my breath, and shut the door. I can hear him laughing before driving off.

When I get back inside, I take the elevator up to the top floor and get out, putting my key in the lock and turning it, letting the door move to the side as I step back into the apartment. The sound of the TV, for whatever reason, caused me to slightly jump, and as I shut the door and lock it, I remember that another person, who has the lease in his name, lives here too. In fact, he’s not even on the couch where I pictured him. He’s by the counter, coffee pot in hand. His eyebrows draw together. “Uh…hi.”

My head tilts. “Hi?”

“Where you been?”

“Just out.” I slide off my sneakers and then my coat, hanging it up on the hook by the door.

“I see.”

I scoff. “You okay?”

Jimmy rubs his hand over his eye. “Yeah. Just uh, just got up.”

I look toward the cable box. “It’s 11:30.”

“And it’s also a Saturday.”

I click my tongue. “Okay, fair.”

“Want a cup?” 

“I’m good, thanks.”

He comes from around the counter and moves to stand in front of me. “You weren’t here when I got up.”

“I told you,” I reiterate. “I was out.”

“And you didn’t come back with bagels?”

I just stand there.

His chapped lips break into a smile. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

I laugh to validate his attempt.

“So, listen.” He moves to sit down on the couch, placing his cup on the table. “I’m just letting you know about break, and, uh, that I’m gonna be going to Boston.”

Pretending to be surprised (which I’m not. In fact, I’m more relieved), it’s time to question him. “Well, good. You need a break.”

“It’s the only time I’ll really be getting one, anyway.” 

“How long are you gonna be gone for?”

“The whole week. I’ll drive back next Sunday.”

“And when are you planning on getting there?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

My head decides on a slight nod. “Oh.”

“But hey. You’ll have this whole place to yourself for an entire week.”

Technically only four and a half days, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh, you bet I’m excited,” I tell Jimmy. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Very.” His lips enclose around the rim of his cup.

“And I’m sure your dad will be thrilled that I’m not there? Tell him I can hold my own now.”

He scoffs. “How about I don’t mention you the whole trip?”

“That’s only if he doesn’t ask, which he definitely will.”

“To hell with that.”

I continue lingering by the door. “Need help packing?”

“No, I’m not bringing too much anyway.”

Typical male response.

I sniff, pretending to start crying. “How am I gonna survive without you?”

He turns around. “Oh, chill out, Abb. It’s one week, not forever. You’ll see me walk back through that very door.”

“I will?”

“Yeah.”

We’ll wait and see on that one.

And to distract myself from the 0.1% chance of that actual reality occurring, I finally find myself walking toward the couch and sitting down next to him, inhaling the warm aroma of his coffee.

A new version of ourselves always develops after walking through here.

The early morning hours of March 21st, post-funeral, Jimmy’s birthday, Martha’s Vineyard, Halloween, Christmas dinner.

I might not recognize him when he comes back.

He’ll be alone.

And I’ll be surrounded by all of those haunting versions of him, wondering how the next one will be worse than the last.

Because that’s how it always ends up.

[drdemonprince]

I love the name Devon! Howd you choose it

Before my name change, my middle name was Dawn. In my Midwestern accent, that name is indistinguishable from Don, and I got a real thrill out of people being surprised that I had a "man's name" for my middle name throughout my childhood. That probably led me to gravitate toward names that started with the letter D.

I was also besotted by a female cellist in my high school orchestra with the name of Devon; she was quiet and self-serious and incredibly talented in an unshowy way, and I just thought it was so damn cool that she had an androgynous, male-leaning name. I'd always found it so cool when girls had names like Ryan or Max as well.

Later, in college, I'd become close friends with a sarcastic, witty environmental studies major named Devon; we talked a lot about Sufjan Stevens music and got drunk together before a falling out between my boyfriend and his roommate kinda drove us apart. As an adult another Devin, this time with an "I" instead of an "o" became my friend through the Chicago Live Lit scene. He's a gay ex-evangelical and comic book nerd with a sweet disposition, encyclopedic knowledge of graphic novels, and a winningly boisterous laugh. So the name had only positive associations.

Around the time my transgender egg was getting cracked, I was on the tabletop role playing podcast @wheelandway. My character in the first season was a hillbilly wizard named Dale. I tried that name on for size because I liked the letter D, and I thought it suited my Appalachian background. Eventually I decided it didn't quite fit, it didn't have enough of an edge for me, but I was headed in the right direction.

I considered other, loosely similar names like Damon (yeah like Albarn, sorry), but Devon seemed the most appealing to me. It was English and kind of classy sounding to my American but British-and-Scottish-ancestried ear, and I liked that it meant "shield" and nicely matched my chosen last name, Price. I liked that it was androgynous but leaning masculine, with the majority of babies named Devon today still being male -- usually once a name becomes androgynous, it breaks in a more female direction, in terms of enduring naming trends. Devon is one of the few names to remain solidly neutral and something people will still willingly name their boy babies as well as girls.

All in all, it felt right, seemed like a name that both suited me and on that was appropriate for me to claim, it looked and sounded good with my last name, and it only evoked positive memories of other people for me. I'm so fortunate that I didn't google the name Devon Price before choosing it, because if I had, I wouldn't have become close friends with another social psychologist nearly my exact same age who has the same name and occupation as me.

I've had many names in the past and I don't view any of them as dead names or anything I feel any need to conceal from people. Part of me does experience regret over trying to distance myself from my dad and my hillbilly family by getting rid of their surname in favor of Price. At the time that I made that choice, when I was eighteen, some of it was motivated by a desire for respectability and a shame over my family's class background and how I might be perceived within academia. My current public-facing name is very friendly to being an academic and a noted public thinker, and I think it's kinda wack that I've profitted off of that. Sometimes I think if I ever attain enough notoriety that it becomes a real problem I'll switch back to my old last name to disappear into obscurity and reclaim the sides of myself that I used to run from, and the family that has largely died out.

[theroamingtrashcan]

Which Percy Jackson adaptation is best? (tw opinions)

I am going to rate them all based on several things, casting, dialogue, entertainment value, how accurate it is to the source material (story, characterization of the characters, etc) and finally, does it capture the spirit and nostalgia of the og series.

The Movies

Casting - By far the worst of the three. These are supposed to the 12 year olds? Why are they like 20?

Dialogue - Not the worst here. You can tell they were written by someone who understands how story’s play out on a screen vs a script.

Entertainment Value - Also not the worst here. These two movies are actually pretty fun and funny, if you can look past the inaccuracies.

How accurate is it to the source material? - This is what kills it. These two movies couldn’t be further if they tried. It actually upsets me how they butchered the story. WHY THE HELL DID THEY FIGHT CRONOS IN THE SEA OF MONSTERS?!? WHY EVEN CALL IT THAT IF YOU WERE JUST GONNA RUIN THE ENTIRE PLOTLINE OF THE FRANCHISE?!? As for the characters, where did Grover’s insecurities go? Where is Annabeth’s… literal entire personality? Ig they did Percy alright, could’ve been more angry (when it counts) and sarcastic.

Does it capture the spirit of the og series? - In the most minute way possible, kinda. It has some funny moments, some attempts at heart felt ones, kinda.

Final rating - A solid 4/10, actually entertaining, butchered the plot and most of the characters, kinda feels Percy Jackson ish.

The Musical

Casting - This one is tricky. This, unlike the others, is a stage musical, so you cannot be too picky on the casting, nor can you easily cast children. However, this musical was written with the intention of being an age appropriate musical for youth theater programs, because of that I will say the casting is well done.

Dialogue - Again tricky but I’ll just interpret dialogue as the songs and well dialogue that happens in between. This has the best dialogue in the list, it’s goofy, funny, but also hits those emotional beats very well.

Entertainment Value - This one really depends on the person, because a lot of people don’t like musicals. For me personally, it’s fantastic. The music bops and the story is interesting.

How accurate is it to the source material? - Best on the list. Considering the options they have, as a stage musical, and what they were able to achieve, easily the best here. It has the monster battles, the pen, an actual sizable Bianca and Nico mention, best on the list. The characters are so well done, each of the og three having their own struggles and challenges that they overcome in the span of the play. Best on the list.

Does it capture the spirit of the og series? - 100% It’s funny. It’s heartfelt. It connects to the issues faced by neurodivergent kids, as well as kids who grew up missing a parent.

Final Rating - 8/10, entertaining, follows the books, only reason I give it an 8 is because a lot of people don’t like musicals.

The Show

Casting - Best on the list. Actual preteens? They all act very well? Crazy. But yeah easily the best here, I mean that right there is Percy, Annabeth, and Grover, no argument. I will say however, this is unfortunately the only thing the show wins at here.

Dialogue - Listen, Rick, you’re a book writer. Not a script writer. And it painfully shows. It’s bland, there are a lot of useless lines (as in characters are often saying things rather than ever showing them). Not to even mention how horrendously rushed the entire thing is. I thought it would slow down as it went on, so the big story moments could have the time they deserved, but no. If I am being completely honest it makes the entire show feel cheap.

Entertainment Value - Worst on the list. It is actually boring. The fights they took out, the fact that you never see riptide transform, the whole thing just feels so so cheap.

How accurate is it to the source material? - It’s… weird? It is but with some changes I just don’t understand, it’s a lot like the dialogue, kinda small yet useless changes that I believe make the show suffer a bit. The characters are, kinda accurate? Why does Percy know so much? Grover is… off. Much like the movies, but in a different way. He doesn’t have most of his insecurities and honestly he doesn’t have much of a personality. Same with Annabeth. The both of them were never really given time to have one.

Does it capture the spirit of the og series? - Not really. The funny moments don’t land and the serious ones are too rushed. It never really felt like Percy Jackson.

Final Rating - 5/10, the only reason it’s 5 is because I feel like the internet would crucify me if I rated it the same as the movies.

Final Conclusion

Listen to the musical if you haven’t already! The movies aren’t good but are entertaining. The show is a disappointment. Before you come at me saying how Rick was there blah blah blah, I don’t care. Rick being there doesn’t make it good.

[purplesurveys]

1903

What’s the most worthwhile thing you’ve done in the last year? Mm I would say our trip to Vietnam. The last year has been pretty quiet and lowkey for me (in other words, mega uneventful), but I'm glad that trip happened.

What foods make you want to gag? Pickles and fruits.

Do you consider yourself to be organized? Mostly at work, but generally yeah.

Have you ever made out with someone? Sure.

What time do you get sleepy? Anywhere between 12-2 AM.

What music do you listen to? I like K-pop and K-R&B these days. Every now and then I'd listen to alternative pop and folk.

How old were you when you started to walk? I was told that it first happened a little after I turned 1. Checks out, because the recording from my 1st birthday party showed that I was still unable to hold myself up and walk.

Which member of your family do you get along with the best? My eldest cousin from my mom's side, and my sister.

What cheers you up when you’re sad? My dogs.

What do you sleep in? Just my usual loungewear, which is usually a t-shirt and shorts.

Have you ever tanned topless? I have not.

Wear jewelry? I don't.

What’s something you’ve been told you’re good at? Writing.

How much can you eat? Not a lot tbh. I tend to eat small portions throughout the day rather than having three appropriate-sized meals.

What’s the furthest away you’ve ever traveled? Jeju and Fukuoka.

Are you a cat or dog person? Dog!

Have you ever done drugs? Once and just weed.

What does your room look like? I have a loft bed, and the stairs were furnished such that each step is also a shelf so that I can have more storage space. The space in the lower part is my main work station, but also doubles as my lounge area since I have a makeshift sofa set up as well, which faces my TV. Under my TV are a couple of racks where much of my K-pop merch is. All in all it's very convenient for me, but it could still feel much cozier; I just always put off buying other things that can make up a certain ambience or aesthetic as it's honestly not a priority.

Recommend a really amazing book. I don't know. I don't read much, so I haven't encountered a book that I loved so much and would immediately recommend.

Recommend a really amazing song. Wild Flower by RM.

Recommend a really amazing movie. 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Who’s your favorite actor/actress? Kate Winslet.

Have you ever run away from home? Nope.

Do you exercise ever? Nope.

Do you like your hair, the way it is and the color? It's not the best right now as the purple color's all faded, but I also don't intend on bleaching/dyeing it again; I think that phase is over hahaha. That said I'm just waiting for it to grow out so I can go back to black.

Do you have any friends named Baloo? Or is he just in the Junglebook? No.

Are you a Disney movie fan? Just selectively, lol. Some movies don't call to me like the others do.

Do you eat seafood? Of course.

When was the last time you cried? Last week.

Do you have good working habits? Sure.

So where the hell do you want to go in life? I want to be stable first, then once I've achieved that all I really want is to live a life of happiness and a feeling of fulfillment.

What are your boundaries? In my personal life, I like to keep my circle tight and closed. The idea of dealing with different social groups and having to shine different aspects of my personalities for them seems so exhausting lol. I've never had a problem being mostly alone.

In my work life, I'm closed off and I'm happy keeping it that way. Lots of people my age seem to want to find friendships in their work, but it's honestly not for me – I've tried, and I just end up feeling so sucked out of energy. I also do not care for gossip and report to my 9-6 just aiming to do my tasks and do my best in those tasks, so it can get frustrating when my name gets entangled in work conversations when I'm just doing my job – but that's Filipino gossip culture for ya.

All in all I really just don't give a fuck and have started focusing on my own peace and my own happiness. And life's turned out a lot sweeter that way.

What are some of the funniest things you can think of? Improv comedy can get stomach-achingly hilarious when the timing is all perfect.

What are two quirky little things about you? I peel off the chicken skin when eating fried chicken, because I save them for last + I can't take a full shot and always have to take them in smaller sips. I just fear taking a big chug of alcohol in one go lol.

Are you claustrophobic? Nope.

Do you like getting wasted? I like the social-tipsy phase the most, but not wasted.

List three things that you look for in a friend. Understanding, funny, loyal.

Do you prefer Angels and Airwaves or Rihanna? Rihanna, I guess.

What religion are you, if any? Born and raised Catholic but I've disengaged myself from religion since I was 10.

If your house was on fire (and your family escaped), what would you save? The dogs and cat + Kimi's and Miki's urns.

Do you have any sash belts? Nope.

What do you have on right now? Include everything, nail polish, makeup, etc. White turtleneck sweater, shorts, underwear, hair tie on my wrist.

Does caffeine make you hyper? Not hyper, but just more awake and focused.

[little-alien-from-pluto]

Little intro!

(Get it it's a pun I like puns)

🌌 my name is squipy but if you wanna call me a more I guess normal name I go by morgen as well

👾 my big age is 21 and I guess I "regress" to around 3-6ish like the pre k and kindergarten age but sometimes also like a 5th grader age

🌌 I go by any pronouns and you're free to use any pet names for me (as long as there appropriate) but some of my favorites are any space related ones

👾 so I'm very new to the community and have never really regressed before but have allways been into and acted more child like due to my autism and just who I am as a person lol so I guess age dreaming would be the right term?? Idk lables are weird

🌌 this blog is mostly going to be me reblogging stuff and making moodboards and what not and idk showing off the games I'll probably play while in this state

👾 as stated I am very new to the agreg community I don't know everything so please please please don't be afraid to let me know of somthing thats common around here (or if I'm simply not welcome here because I'm not a real regressor) but just be kind about it I'm a bit emotional and hate conflict

🌌 I guess I would be considered a flip ( or like a cg/little???) But I am not open to getting a cg or becoming anyone's cg again very new around here and kinda scared so yeah

👾 if you wanna come and say hi my ask are open and uuuh besides that below you'll find my intrest,userboxes and dni! Thanks for reading

Dni:

🌌 SFW INTERACTS ONLY counting as I'll be well a child please please no NSFW stuff cursing is fine but that's it

👾 ra/d quee/rs,pro ship/pers

🌌 just be nice that's all I ask also anti agreg obviously don't interact why are you here?

INTREST:

(Anything with a star is stuff I REALLY REALLY like)

Shows:

Bluey ⭐️

My little pony

The upside down show ⭐️

Rubber dubbers

Magic school bus

Crashbox⭐️

I spy

Blues clues ⭐️

Zaboomafoo

Fairly odd parents ⭐️

Phinese and Ferb⭐️

Wonder over younder

Wizards of Waverly place ⭐️

Hanna Montana ⭐️

ICarly⭐️

Dora

Seseme street ⭐️

Elmos world ⭐️

Video games: ⭐️

Minecraft

Mario series (Mario galaxy is my fav)

Club penguin

Early 2000s flash games ( I love dress up games!!)

Kirby

Undertale

Wii games

YouTube: most of this is early 2010s

Cube smp s1 ⭐️

Graser10 ⭐️

Think noodles

Jacksepteticeye

Markplier

Game theory

Others:

Space ⭐️

Music ⭐️

Arcades ⭐️

Music class

Elementary school stuff in general

Userboxes:

[imjustabeanie]

Hello 🖤

I was hoping to get a Hazbin Hotel matchup please.

I'm bisexual and use she/pronouns so go wild lolol.

Personality wise I appear extremely reserved, but soon enough after a couple of conversations, I reveal my self to be quite boisterous. I'm always cracking (*almost* appropriate) jokes, and I am ALWAYS up for an adventure.

I like the buzz of cities, especially at night, and enjoy eating sushi and wearing perfume.

I am a big reader and particularly enjoy period novels (almost as much as I love rewatching the same 5 shows on repeat).

But my main passion...is musical theatre! I can act, sing and dance and I'm working hard in training to have a shot in the industry.

When it comes to dating, I don't really have a type I go for. It's more about the chemistry I have with someone and how easily we can bounce conversation back and forth.

I suppose then I like people with a bit of wit. Who have a sharpness that they know if and when to use.

I hope that's all the information you need. Thank you for reading my request 🖤

Hey hey hey! Here's your match!

Your hazbin hotel match is....Charlie Morningstar!

Okay so for you it was rather tough cuz you’d get along with many characters as we could try different chemistries and it’d still work. But I finally settled down for good old Charlie Morningstar. You do have as runner ups Rosie (unfortunately, the show didn’t develop her well enough for me to analyse her more deeply cuz she’s in a near equal position to Charlie), Vaggie and (if we omit his sexuality) Angel Dust. The last one would totally be a bff in that world lol.

Charlie is a very passionate person. She believes that everyone deserves a second chance and has a very positive outlook on life in general. Your reserved exterior won’t bother her at all as she’ll actively try to befriend you! And once you reveal your more extraverted self she’ll consider it as a huge victory lol. I believe that Charlie would be the one to ask you out first, she will do it in a song trust me (and it won’t cosk 50k).

You two are a very adventurous couple cuz you encourage each other. She wants to go to the most dangerous parts of hell to promote her hotel? Sure! You want to go to a play taking place in another circle but you two have things to do the next day in early morning? Hop on baby there’s no time to waste. Vaggie is losing it with you two.

Charlie completely understands your jokes and let out a giggle every time you make one even if it’s really borderline to the shock of Angel Dust and Vaggie. She is also rather sharp, she just hides it. But if you hurt someone she loves then she’ll go all out.

Dates nights every night she can, she either takes you out to a restaurant, entertainment or just makes something at the hotel for both of you to unwind and gossip together. As we saw in the show, Charlie tells everything to her lover so it’s definitely the case here. Your opinion matters a lot to her. But she also values honesty a lot so if you take time to open up warn her so she won’t be hurt.

I also see her to be the type to hyperfixate on something for a while (which means also rewatching her favorite episodes and re reading her favorite chapters). Due to her age, Charlie definitely is a big reader, it’s just that she has less time with the hotel. If you start rambling about the books you’re reading you can almost see the hearts in her eyes.

Charlie is your number one cheerleader in your interest at dancing, singing and acting. You two always sing together and believe it or not she won’t hesitate to use her position to help boost you because she really believes in you. Yeah you two are such a sight to behold.

I hope you like it!