Tumgik
#will i ever post about something other than dante and/or gene?
chxna-cheeseycake · 1 year
Text
One time I got very silly with it and made whole Mystreet X Mandela Catalogue AU because it's virtually impossible for me to be into two fandoms at the same time without making a crossover AU at some point. It's actually been a second since I've paid attention to Mandela Catalogue and I def have to catch up on the new uploads but whateves I'm thinking about this AU rn anyways.
The AU is just pretty much the real Dante dying at like 4 years old in an accident and then getting replaced by an alternate. Gene is the only one in his family that remembers the real Dante dying because their mom Maria lowkey went through so much trauma by Alt! Dante that she can no longer remember that her youngest son is dead whoopsies 😙 But anyways, Gene doesn't say anything about it because he was also a child at the time and truly didn't understand what happened. Other than that, I lowkey made the AU a bit more silly as Gene just chills with his eldritch abomination of a younger brother like it's just a normal ass occurrence 💀 Their usual dynamic is literally just this:
Gene: Dammit, why isn't Zenix texting me back?
Dante: Beat him up within an inch of his life. Let him face true fear and suffering so he knows not to mess with you any longer ʘ‿ʘ
Gene: I can't do that, dude! He still owes me twenty bucks.
Lowkey the roles are slightly reversed but it's more notable when they're adults. At that point, Gene is definitely the one that has to prevent Dante from committing crimes on the daily. But trying to prevent your eldritch horror brother from wiping out humanity can be pretty grueling work at times. Dante has a soft spot for Gene (obviously) so Gene is pretty much the only one safe from Dante's silly (and HIGHLY deadly) alternate behavior <3 Alternate Overlord Gabriel does not like this though and tries to force Dante to get rid of Gene too. But Dante pretty much begs Gabriel to let him keep Gene, pretty much treating Gene like he's a stray dog or something. And eventually Gabriel gives in not because he actually wants to or anything but because he's tired of Dante's shit and just wants Dante to stop talking to him already 💀
Also Dante very clearly does not act like a normal human but Gene will always act as if Dante isn't doing the weirdest shit of all time. Not because Gene is genuinely oblivious to Dante's alternate nature but because he thinks it's funny to just pretend Dante isn't doing weird crap and enjoys watching people flip out over it. Gene even does this shit with Zenix and Sasha and it pisses the two of them off so much, especially Zenix who is secretly very creeped out but will deny that to anyone who asks. Dante and Gene just get really goofy with it in this AU despite the fact that it's based on the Mandela Catalogue because dammit I need to have some silliness with this brother duo. It can't always be angsty as shit even if angst is my favorite thing to write about lol.
13 notes · View notes
pdpenpals · 2 months
Note
hihi! i was wondering if i could get a romantic letter from phoenix drop high gene? she/they pronouns please :)
and for the context of the letter, maybe Gene & Reader recently started dating but can’t text because Reader is away at an academic sleep away camp (preferably centered around literature/writing)? Reader is on the more academic/nerdy side and not officially part of the SK so them doing these kinds of programs is their usual summer thing but it’s the first time Gene and Reader have been away from eachother since they started dating
tysm <33
hihi!! thanks for sending this in, i think this prompt’s absolutely adorable!
unrelated but speaking of literature whenever i see gene now that i’m older i think of heathcliff (more of the name) or the phantom for some reason.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
your entire being perks up at the mention that a letter’s arrived, and your heart races as you go through who could have possibly sent it in your head. the moment you have it in your hands, you can almost tell exactly who it’s from. the envelope’s a dark gray, close enough to be black. there are stickers all over its back next to your name and address, same goes for the front. opening it, you catch a whiff of someone familiar’s cologne. that cheeky bastard. 
you notice almost immediately that there’s not only a letter inside, but a bunch of printed photos and some unused stickers. after finding a spot to settle your new goodies upon, you get comfy and get to reading.
Tumblr media
Hey cutie. Miss me yet? 
Heard a fair’s coming to town soon. I think it’ll still be there when you get back. There should even be fireworks on the last day. We can go there if you wanna.
Other than that, nothing much happened today. Dante was out, and I had the house to myself for a good portion of the afternoon. Without sugarcoating it, I was bored out of my mind.
It took me a while to figure out my texts or calls weren’t getting through to you. Mom must have seen how frustrated I was about it, so she shared some of her spare stationery with me as a last resort. She said something about wanting to hear about how your summer’s been doing so far.
That’s all the small talk I can handle for today. You might get too tired of staring at only words for too long over there, so you might want to check out the pics taken these past few days. The stickers are from Zenix and Sasha by the way, they also say hi.
Kidding aside, I know how much this whole camp thing means to you.  But I’ve been feeling weird ever since you left. It’s weirder knowing you’re not nearby. When you’re not a walk or a call away. Even though I know exactly how many days and many hours are left until you come back.
Sappy shit out the way, I decided to read that one book you lent me at random. I’m not sure you remember it much since you hurriedly gave it to me without a second thought, but it’s that really old one about the day before the world ends. All that apocalyptic and sad shit. Even though I didn’t get it, I guess it was nice that Vincent and Leticia got their happy ending. To be honest, the book overall didn’t stand out to me much, but the concept of having one day left to live sure did.
If I knew the world was going to end tomorrow I would
Y’know, maybe it’s for the best I save it for when we meet again in person, so you better come back home in one piece, yeah?
With an aching heart and hand, Your Gene, who misses you terribly
PS. I feel like you’ve been rubbing off on me recently, state-of-mind-wise. While it’s not that bad, it gives me the chills.
PPS. If not having you near me hasn't driven me insane yet, I definitely will go mad if this letter doesn't make it to you. Especially after all I've put my wrist through just for this. Maybe I should visit the post office a few more times?
Tumblr media
67 notes · View notes
Text
This was supposed to be a timeline for all the mys ships that did/might happen in my rewrite(which isn't even started but shh). It ended up being just me ranting about mys!Garrance.
At first, it follows smh. But then. It's just me rambling. Well. It's me rambling in general.
tw for mentions of homophobia and smoking.
Now, now, i think i've been neglecting these two recently. Honestly I don't even remember how I started shipping them but I did, and years later here I am, still drawing and writing about gay block men.They're literally engaged in mys and no one is convincing me otherwise(<- this whole thing will get its own post eventually). Uhm, okay, now that I got that out of my system, maybe I should give some actual hcs.
◇ Garroth is a year older than Laurance.
◇ They used to be close friends when they were little(most of the mys cast knew eachother in childhood at some extent), but once they entered their teenage years they grew apart,and the fact that Garroth and his family moved away when Garroth started high-school not helping their situation.
◇ Garroth did his freshman year and a bit of his sophomore year in O'Kasis Academy, but due to not being able to fit in ended up moving to Phoenix Drops High(after a lot of complains and pleases from him and Zianna towards Garte).
◇ Well, when he got in PDH, Laurance has been there already for like half a year(he was a freshman), and was already hanging around the Shadow Knights, so as you may imagine Garroth and Laurance didn't really got to interact a lot.
◇ In that summer, Laurance and Gene broke up for unknown reasons. The entire school, of course, found out about that.
◇ Garroth did try to get closer to Laurance that year. It did not work.
◇ Laurance spent that year mostly alone, with the daily interruptions of some people who were trying to try their chances with him.
◇ They started finally getting closer again when the 'canon' started(Laurance's junior year, Garroth's senior year)
◇ Aph basically made them interact by befriending them both and making them sit together every single day.
◇ Regardless, Laurance and Garroth started hanging out together on their own not long after.
◇ Laurance fell first. Garroth fell harder.
◇ They never got together in high school, actually, though it was pretty obvious they liked each other.
◇ Originally, Garroth didn't even realise he caught feelings. Man was busy, ok? He was thinking about college, and besides, his father would NEVER accept one of his sons being queer-
◇ The realisation that he is, in fact gay hit him like a brick.
◇ Regardless, that's a subject for another time.
◇ Aph and Travis, the best wingmen EVER.
◇ They were hyping up Garroth's every move. It was very obvious what was happening, for everyone but Laurance, that is.
◇ Laurance had long rants about his 'secret crush'.
◇ it was not a secret.
◇ They were very in love. But a bit too stupid.
◇ Anyway. Garroth leaves for college next year(thankfully for him missing most of the Ein situation)
◇ Laurance weeps the entire year.
◇ He still finds ways to make Garroth visit though
◇ Be it complaining about forgetting his lunch and being too busy to go and get something for himself or being about cigarettes.
◇ Garroth, of course, 'falls for it' every time.
◇ Laurance finds out Garroth was planning on cutting off his family entirely(temporarily, he regains contact with Zianna and Vylad a bit later on. He litteraly wakes up with Zane going to a college close to his)
◇ Basically, he takes Laurance with him.
◇ But first, Garroth goes to his last family dinner for a while, Laurance there's to. Garte isn't pleased.
◇ Well, they clearly make an exit.
◇ They're dating at that point, sharing their first kiss in the car. Very romantic.
◇ While college they share an apartment somewhere close by.
◇ When they meet the rest of the cast ABSOLUTELY NO ONE is surprised that they're dating.
◇ Of course, after college, they move in together, somehow being persuaded by Dante to let him move in with them.
◇ They get engaged in Emerald Secret, I'll expand on that eventually.
◇ Pet names. A lot of them. From both sides.
◇ They don't do pda a lot because Garroth doesn't feel comfortable doing so, but behind close doors, Garroth IS the clingy one
◇ They're still holding hands almost 98% of the time,though
◇ It doesn't bother Garroth that much that Laurance smokes, but he still tries convincing Laurance to do it less and less.
◇ Which actually works because Laurance does smoke much less than he used to! He is trying to give up on it completely, not only for Garroth but himself. But of course, as any addiction, it's hard.
◇ Anyway. They aren't very jealous. Of course, there is some type of jealousy there, but it's rare, and they usually talk it out privately.
◇ Kisses.
◇ They are hyping up each other constantly.
◇ I just like them being happy, ok?
◇ As I said before, mys!Garroth is a dog person, mys!Laurance is a cat person.
◇ Yeah, so...Ungrth and Raven. Not so much of mystical creatures in this one, are they?
◇ Those two are their kids. They don't actually really want actual human kids. Not now, at least. Maybe later.
◇ Their idea of the best date is lying on the couch together with some snacks while watching crappy movies
◇ It's a bit hard when a certain someone is blasting music from the basement(cough Travis cough)
◇ They love him tho
◇ They also miss Dante sometimes(<- moved out eventually)
◇ Laurance knows how to play the guitar. I think you know what he has done with this ability.
◇ It was in private, though. Garroth might have sobbed a bit(/pos).
◇ Laurance also blasts music while he does his part of the chores. It's country music. It's the only time when he actively listens to it.
◇ Something about his fiancé and country music combined is very attractive to Garroth.
◇ mys!Garroth doesn't know how to cook(does not stop his from complaining about Laurance's way to do things tho, in a light-hearted manner, obvs). mys!Laurance is a very good cook.
◇ Garroth likes reading a lot. He sometimes reads to Laurance before sleep.
◇ They're eachothers comfort.
◇ Cadenza made it clear that if they ever have a wedding, SHE'LL design the suits. Of course, no one complained.
◇ Speaking of, the Zvhals adore Garroth.
◇ The Ro'Meaves. Uhm. Well. Garte dislikes Laurance. A lot. Zianna adores him, though! Vylad and Laurance are friends(I have yet to work on their dynamic in mys, so that's all I have for now). And then there's Zane. Mys!Zane and mys!Laurance are the best yet worst frenemies you'll ever meet.
◇ Speaking of, Garte hates more the fact that Garroth is dating Laurance than the fact that Garroth is gay.
◇ He got used to Garroth's 'queerness'. But not with Laurance.
◇ Laurance doesn't stand Garte either for obvious reasons.
◇ They went over for a family dinner once. Yeah. It was even worse this time.
◇When they first started dating, journalists were all over them. Garroth hated it, Laurance wouldn't have cared too much if it didn't bother Garroth.
◇They are being left relatively alone nowadays
Yeah, that's all I have for now. Thank you for actually reading all this, and pls ask me stuff about the cast or other ships. I'm always happy to rant about them or hear others do it
42 notes · View notes
dantedeservedbetter · 2 years
Text
I don’t think anyone understands just how much I want origin stories of everyone else in Mystreet like they all have really interesting backgrounds that are just tossed to the side of the main plot points (lol abt to be a really long threat again sorry)
Aaron- Didn’t actually get character lore OR a personality until S3 but like I want MORE because tbh I feel like his parents gave him a lot more trauma than what’s shown in the series, and even the stuff IN the actual seasons (the emotional neglect, his military schooling, the tense relationship w/Melissa etc;) are fixed and shoved off like no he might ACTUALLY need therapy bruh PLEASE
Katelyn- I think she was (?) in therapy in the beginning for her anger issues and the loss of her mother but like it was kind of forgotten about tbh. I think she needs more positive moments in the series honestly bc in the later seasons we’re shown she’s partially abusive towards Travis the first time they went out, and ends up being written off as prejudice towards werewolves bc of past experiences??? Naw the Katelyn I know would never do that. AND HER DREAMS OF WORKING IN THEATRE TOO HELLO??? Also, her mom quite literally used her in the Forever Potion experiments as a child?? I feel like that’s important to her character too :/
The Ro’meave Brothers- I don’t actually know where to start tbh because I feel like ALL THREE of them could use some kind of character depth aside from Dumb Blonde, Emo One, and the Forgotten One. Especially Vylad, probably having to witness this entire Lycan situation grow from an outsiders perspective with no contact from his family in forever. It’s shown that Zane is immensely interested in the family business too like hello??? Garroth himself is kind of just written off as a comedic effect most of the time, but he quite literally has no other goals (possibly because he KNOWS he’s going to inherit the business one day whether he cares to or not).
Laurance- He’s not really a character anymore, but from what we’ve actually SEEN in Mystreet he had enough development to become something outside of a potential love interest for Aphmau. He has a fondness for cooking and was seen to be EXCEPTIONAL at it, and I think he still carried an interest in baseball (or idk it was SOME sport asdfghjk the point is he was good). And he was also shown to still help out his family here and there (babysitting Caleb, his baby brother, in numerous episodes). Idk, I feel like there were so many pieces of Laurance that could’ve been explored and touched upon and we hardly got anything. Also… Garrance. Quite literally hate to be that person but it was literally the biggest piece of queerbaiting I’ve ever seen fr I wish it was explored as much as Aarmau was :( (willing to bet the popularity had something to do with what I call the ‘Heartstopper’ treatment but that’s just me tho)
Nana (KC)- The most under appreciated character in-universe I actually had to go and make a separate post about this LOLOL expect it in like five minutes from now bc I just save everything in my drafts.
Travis- Lol no surprise here but him too dude honestly I have no idea where to start with him atm, his entire family’s lore needs a full in depth analysis on themselves because Aphmau’s series just BARELY touches the surface of Travis’s character
Dante/Gene- Honestly BOTH of them were done so dirty I find it funny how no one ever talks abt it because they’re so beautiful to me. Gene already had his redemption arc so I can kind of see why they just tossed him aside but Dante literally had nothing tbh. He had a messy relationship with KC in PDH and then made that same mistake in LLP. Okay, cool, give us more of that. Let him learn from his mistakes and be self aware now. Or better yet let him grow without tossing love interests into the formula in order for it to happen!! Seems like his family life is pretty good though, worst thing abt him was the peanut allergy.
Lucinda- Queen actually has very little to no background that actually centers around her. We know she had a really bad relationship with Ivan but like I’m pretty sure that’s it.
87 notes · View notes
meta-squash · 5 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Journal For Plague Lovers part 6
Me And Stephen Hawking
“I think it says something about human nature that the only form of life we have created so far is purely destructive. We have created life in our own image.” – stephen hawking –
1/ Underground car park born at Stonehenge Rivers Wyle, Bourne, [blacked out] destroying Queen mother stuffed for exhibition Three strikes yr out – execution – pizza 2/ Dante III, spider robot, Mount Spurrr Increased plastic surgery for pubic hair Sanitation police, crime of proportion. [blacked out] 3/ Paisleyism and ecumenism and cenotaph bombers [blacked out] wearing policing Soviet labour medals sold for Coca Cola [blacked out] 4/ [blacked out] 82 million watch Gorilla Meets Whale [blacked out] [blacked out]
BRIDGE
Herman the bull and Tracy the sheep Transgenic milk containing human protein Their bacteria cheaper than lab baby food Attention, today it’s a cow, tomorrow it’s you
CHORUS
African Punch and Judy shows only rice price 100,000 watch Giant Haystacks Bombay fight Oh the joy, me and Stephen Hawking we laugh Missed the sex revolution when we failed the physical
hahahaha (joke)
[The image on the facing page is a marble sculpture titled St. Teresa in Ecstasy, by Gian Lorenzo Bernini, finished in 1652. It is in the Roman church of Santa Maria della Vittoria. It features Theresa in a state of ecstasy as an angel descends to plunge his hands into her heart.]
Reference explanations:
Most of these references are based off of news articles Richey read in 1994, either general summary-like references or nearly direct quotes from articles, mostly from The Indepedent.*
The Stephen Hawking quote is from a speech he gave at Boston's Macworld Expo quoted in the 4th August 1994 issue of the Daily News. A similar quote is in his 1996 lecture Life In The Universe.
Stonehenge is a prehistoric ring of standing stones. It’s managed by English Heritage and owned by the Crown. It is associated with death and burial, and bodies have been excavated in the area around the site. It is aligned to the sunset of the winter solstice and the opposing sunrise of the summer solstice. The “underground car park” line is a reference to proposal made in 1994 to close the A303 and turn the road into an underground tunnel that will pass directly under the site of Stonehenge itself. (Apparently said proposal was approved November 2020.)
I think “Wyle” is a misspelling of “Wylye”, which is a river in south west England. River Bourne is nearby; both go through Wiltshire county. Said county contains the Salisbury Plain, which also contains Stonehenge. The Rivers Wylye and Bourne are both part of the Hampshire Avon catchment. In August ‘94 the county was granted a multi-million pound package to protect the catchment from pollution and monitor buildings developments and water flow rates.
The “queen mother” line may refer to the Queen Mother’s 90th birthday parade in 1990. The Queen mother celebrated her 94th birthday in 1994, and a few informal photos of her were released in The Mirror in an article about it.
“Three strikes yr out – execution – pizza” is a reference to the “three strikes rule” proposed in California. A rule was proposed 1994 and passed in 1995 that allowed someone to be sentenced to life in prison if it was their third repeat offense, and if they had a previous conviction for a violent offense. A man named Jerry Dewayne Williams was arrested July 30 1994 for stealing a slice of pizza and due to this law was later sentenced to 25 years to life.
Mount Spurr is an Alaskan mountain. Its last volcanic eruption was 1992. Dante II was a spider-like robot from NASA that explored Mt Spurr’s volcanic crater in order to gather information and entered the crater in July 1994. It managed to gather information but on the way out of the crater, got stuck in the mud and fell back into the crater. Not sure if “Dante III” is a mis-type.
Dante’s Inferno is about the main eponymous character entering Hell and traversing its rings in order to reach purgatory and then paradise to find his lover Beatrice.
“Increased plastic surgery for pubic hair” is a reference to an article in the The Independent on 27 August 1994 which talked about men getting plastic surgery and liposuction. (The article is titled “Men who want a perfect body,” which certainly hits upon one of Richey’s preoccupations.) It mentions that there are “more and more images for men to look at, in much the same way female images have been pushed for years.” In a paragraph about penis enlargement surgery, it mentions that a complication from said surgery can be ingrown pubic hairs.
“Sanitation police, crime of proportion.” is likely a reference to an article by Zoe Heller called “How I fell foul of New York’s sanitation police.” The Sanitation Police in NY are responsible for dealing with things like theft of recyclables, littering, illegal dumping, improper disposal of solid waste, etc. They can issue summonses for citizens who mix recyclable and non-recyclable materials (which, from what I can gather, is what the Heller article is about).
Ian Paisley was a loyalist politician and Protestant religious leader in Northern Ireland. He promoted a form of Biblical literalism and anti-Catholicism, which he described as “Bible Protestantism” In the mid-late 1960s, he led and instigated loyalist opposition to the Catholic civil rights movement in Northern Ireland. Throughout the Troubles, Paisley was seen as a firebrand and the face of hardline unionism. He opposed all attempts to resolve the conflict through power-sharing between unionists and Irish nationalists/republicans, and all attempts to involve the Republic of Ireland in Northern affairs. A retrospective article about him was published in The Independent in September 1994.
Ecumenism is any effort aimed at the unity of Christians throughout the world. Most often, it specifically means the visible unity of Christian churches in some form.
“Cenotaph bombers” is a reference to the Remembrance Day Bombing that took place 8 November 1987 in Enniskillen, Northern Ireland. An IRA bomb was detonated near a war memorial during a Remembrance Sunday ceremony. 11 people were killed and 63 injured. The IRA’s target had been soldiers parading to the memorial, not civilians. In August 1994, a ceasefire was announced by the Provisional IRA. In reaction to the ceasefire, Ian Paisley claimed that Northern Ireland would plummet into civil war.
“Soviet labour medals sold for Coca Cola.” The Soviet Union had medals for labour to honor workers for many years of hard work in the national economy, sciences, culture, education, manufacturing, healthcare, government agencies and public organizations. It was established in 1974 and stopped being awarded in 1991 after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. There was an article in The Independent on 5 April 1994 about a new British embassy being built in Berlin. It mentioned that the Russian embassy was next door, and that Russian traders would sit across the street from the embassy and sell post-war bric-a-brac like Lenin flags and Hero Of Socialist Labour medals.
“82 million watch Gorilla Meets Whale” is a reference to Godzilla, because the original Japanese name “Gojira” is a portmanteau of the words “gorira” (gorilla) and “kojira” (whale). By 1994, over 82 million people had seen the first 20 Godzilla films. Richey got that figure from an article  in The Independent about the cultural history of the films and their critique of environmental and economic problems. The other thing I could find was a reference to the fact that Godzilla represented Japanese fear of nuclear testing etc: On March 1, 1954, the U.S. conducted a hydrogen bomb test called Bravo shot at Rongelap Atoll in the Marshall Islands. As a result of this nuclear test radioactive dust fell not only on many Marshall Islanders but famously on a Japanese tuna fishing boat called the 5th Lucky Dragon, irradiating all twenty-three fishermen. The effect of these nuclear tests on Japanese, a who had previously experienced the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki on the heels of the destruction by bombing of virtually all other major cities, was to strengthen anti-nuclear sentiments, giving rising to a powerful anti-nuclear movement that spread across Japan in the form of a citizens’ petition initiated by women opposing nuclear tests. The petition, the largest of its kind ever, was signed by 32 million Japanese. That August, the first Conference Against Atomic and Hydrogen Bombs was held in Hiroshima. The 5th Lucky Dragon became the model for the boat called “Eiko Maru” attacked by Godzilla.
Herman the bull was the first genetically modified bovine in the world. Scientists injected the embryo with human gene coding for lactoferrin. Eight calves were born from Herman in 1994. All calves inherited the lactoferrin production gene.
Tracy the sheep was a transgenically modified sheep in Scotland, made to produce alpha 1-antitrypsin, which is a substance that was regarded in the 1990s as a potential pharmaceutical for the treatments of emphysema and cystic fibrosis. Alpha 1-antitrypsin comprised 50% of the total protein in Tracy’s milk.
“Attention, today it’s a cow, tomorrow it’s you” is an almost direct copy of an anti-genetic modification poster from the Dutch society for prevention of cruelty of animals, which portrays a topless woman with udders in place of breasts over the caption: 'Today a cow, tomorrow you.”
Punch and Judy was a traditional puppet show. It was usually very violent, with the characters of Punch and Judy (or Punch and another character) fighting and hitting each other. It is handled by a single puppeteer, and audiences are encourage to participate a la panto. It comes from commedia dell’arte.
“Only rice price” may be a reference to a 1976 film called Network. I may be making connections where there aren’t any, though. “What’s that got to do with the price of [blank]?” is a well known phrase (usually it’s “the price of tea in China”). In Network, “the price of rice” is the phrase used. The main character is a new broadcaster whose channel is failing, and he threatens to commit suicide on air. This causes the channel viewing to go up, so the heads of the channel decide to exploit this and allow the character to say whatever he wants and generally spew angry tirades. Eventually he is killed. But the “rice price” line comes from a monologue in which the character berates those watching the show, and tells them that they never read books or newspapers and that television is not news, it’s entertainment and amusement parks. Television is described as being able to make or break people, and as “indifferent to suffering, insensitive to joy. All of life is reduced to the common rubble of banality.”
Giant Haystacks was a wrestler in the 70s. He was 6′11″ and weigh 638 pounds. There’s no info about him ever being in a fight in Bombay. The “Bombay fight” line could be a reference to the Bombay Riots that occurred in 92/93, but again there doesn’t seem to be any connection to Giant Haystacks.
Stephen Hawking is a theoretical physicist and cosmologist. He suffered from ALS or motor neuron disease, which left him paralyzed and necessitated the use of a speech-generating communication device. He worked with theories on relativity and black holes (which I do not understand and could not explain because I am not a scientist.) In 1988 he wrote A Brief History Of Time. He died in 2018.
The sexual revolution was a social movement started in the 60s and continued through 80s which challenged certain sexual and relationship norms/conventions. It argued for freedom to sex before marriage, right to abortions and the pill or other forms of contraception, normalization of pornography, homosexuality, other forms of sexuality, and public nudity.
*Many, many thanks to a reddit user who messaged me with all of this new information!  They did a ton of research and found all these references in old newspaper archives and 80s/90s BBC documentaries, which I never would have thought to check.
25 notes · View notes
clownsgobeepbeep · 6 years
Text
I was thinking about some of my other characters who i haven't talked much about in the other AU's, so I'm just gonna make this post to remind myself of their roles lol 
Vampire AU
Jeff + Bubbles: Little vampires(I have decided that they are indeed Pepper's biological children with an unknown mother)
Cuckoo: Werewolf who tries to not kill but unfortunately gives into the instinct 
Ace: Vampire, formerly a "groom" of Coraline's
Ferry: Human
James: Ghost(he will appear more often and he's not bad); knows who Lily is but she doesn't know who he is(will believe it's an "uncle") 
Ryder:Dead motherfucker, hurray.(He was possessing James' body, so...who knows, he might still be lingering around~)
Evie: Vampire, still coming up with more for her
Dante: Little vampire who was abandoned by his family of vampire hunter; will be adopted by Coraline
Robyn + Rayden: Little vampires that got lost from family; will be adopted by Coraline
Schrader: Deceased vampire boy, currently a ghost who will be brought back
Reverse Vampire AU 
Jeff + Bubbles: Human children, once again Pepper's children who he had no idea about and is too scared to take care of
Cuckoo: Vampire, originally tried hiding it from their best friend but is now in the known and is glad that Stellar doesn't actually mind
Ace: Dead werewolf...who will be brought back. He's gonna be more like his normal self, with no memory of all the other shit that went down. Nobody should fucking tell him, he's gonna be nicer.
Ferry: Vampire, more flirtatious(especially with Ace who will be confused), though still a bit hesitant when hurting/killing
James: Vampire Hunter, personality like his Pirate AU self. Looking for his daughter and of course, still has feelings for Coraline(but daughter first)
Ryder: ---
Evie: Human or possibly vampire again, still coming up with more for her
Dante: Human child; Coraline will be tempted to adopt
Robyn + Rayden: Human children; Coraline will be tempted to adopt
Schrader: Werewolf boy
Pirate AU 
Jeff + Bubbles: Children created form Pepper's genes in a way(no mother), follow Pepper around and he gave up so he's just accepted he's their father
Cuckoo: Captain who "hunts" pirates; secretly best friend to Stellar and lets his ship go(will still fight other pirates who threaten their land though); has considered turning to the Pirate life
Ace:Strong man of Stellar's ship
Ferry: Daughter of governor from a port but fled and was captured by Stellar's pirates; still a "prisoner" but is surprisingly given some freedom and is being taught how to be a pirate(pretends to not enjoy it)
James: Pirate Captain; still has feelings for Coraline but she won't talk to him; great father and spoils his little future Pirate Captain
Ryder: ---
Evie: Daughter to an evil sea witch who also inherited her powers; seduced James to break him up from Coraline; now is dead because Coraline killed her for both what she did and for trying to hurt Lily(Missy actually kinda cared for her in this AU and shall seek revenge)
Dante: Stowaway, originally from a pirate family
Robyn and Rayden: Lost children from a random port
Schrader: Pirate boy lost at sea; will probably be found by James' ship...~
Spooky AU 
Jeff + Bubbles: ---
Cuckoo: Human; knows of the 'Spooky World' and frequently visits; immune to nearly everything thanks to Stellar; tends to care for Coraline while she's in the 'Human World' without her knowing
Ace:Spider like creature, but also human like(because of his father)
Ferry: Succubus; pretty shy and hangs around Ace; doesn't exactly like that she's a succubus
James: Undead/zombie; was dismembered at death and is currently looking for the piece that will allow him to live without the annoying shadow in his back; a little more serious and chill, but still nice(especially to children and Coraline); very sorry about what he did(every version of him is actually)
Ryder: Annoying shadow thing living in James; the only Ryder you will like; sure he's annoying and a little bit of a perv around Coraline, but he will lose his shit and do what you tell him to for a strawberry; will grow to be a bit more "chill" and come to decent terms with his host
Evie: Much more spider like creature than her half brother; evil; wants James and wants Coraline dead because she knows he still has something for her
Dante: Demon; accidentally burns a lot of things and constantly feels bad; needs some reassurance 
Robyn and Rayden: ---
Schrader: Lich type of creature; is here and there; will be very protective of Lily(more than his other selves probably because she's so innocent)
High School AU 
For all the kids(including Ula), I have no idea what to do with them since some are biological children and well, their parents are in high school 
Cuckoo: College student who helps around the high school; oblivious to the fact that many students find them attractive and even fake bad grades to be tutored by them
Ace: Senior with a PTA mom oh dear lord; has bad grades because he's just confused by everything; very good at sports though; has a crush on Coraline that is slowly diminishing 
Ferry: Junior who is usually in her older sister's shadow; she is very smart and is even a tutor(guess who she tutors~); part of the cheerleading squad and a few clubs; super duper sweet and hangs around Pepper
James: Believe it or not, he's not in that high school anymore. Plot twist; it's been his twin brother this entire time. This James is pretty much like his normal self; trying to please everybody, sweet, afraid of Cosmos and Pepper because of what he did, sorry for what he did; will eventually appear 
Ryder: The real bully at the high school who is just pretending to be James(you ever see twins switch places at schools to see whether or not people will notice? Yeah, he did that while James is being home schooled). As you know, complete asshole who bullies Pepper and is willing to do anything to be with Coraline who he always had the hots for)
Evie: Yes James did cheat with her; she was jealous of Coraline and wow she actually got James for like five minutes, such success; went from being a cocky gal to being afraid of the D'Vitts(still disliking Coraline); follows "James" around because she's got the hots for him and he sometimes allows her to make-out in the closet with him(surprised surprise that's his creepy twin Ryder)
4 notes · View notes
dantediscoversfic · 7 years
Text
Chapter 21: Skirting and Sketching
I brought my sketchpad, charcoal pencils and the book of poetry by W.S. Merwin I’d been reading earlier in the week with me over to Ari’s house. When I got there I took my shoes off and left them on his front porch, Japanese style, so I wouldn’t track any dirt inside. I rang the doorbell and Ari’s mom greeted me.
“Dante, it’s so nice to see you. I’m glad you’re here. Ari’s been having a tough week.”
“Yeah he said on the phone he’s had a bad flu. I think getting sick during the summer should be illegal, don’t you? It’s…incongruous.”
“Incongruous,” she repeated with a laugh. She had a lovely low honey laugh like Ari’s. He must have inherited it from her. “It certainly is. His fever broke but he’s still a bit out of sorts.”
“I was worried about him when he didn’t show up at the pool this week.”
“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t think. I should have let you know he was under the weather.”
“It’s ok, I’m just glad he’s feeling better now.”
“He’s in his room. Would you like anything to drink?”
“No thanks, I’m good. I’ll just go see how Ari’s doing.”
“Ok, let me know if you two want a snack. I still have half a big pot of chicken soup left and Ari is going on a soup boycott, so you’re welcome to have some.”
“Thanks Mrs. Mendoza, I bet it’s delicious.”
“Lilliana. Mrs. Mendoza reminds me of my students and this is still summer break after all. You remember where Ari’s room is? Just down the hallway on the right.”
“Yes, thanks.”
I approached Ari’s room and stood in the doorway. He was lying in his bed on top of the covers, wearing his ratty Santana t-shirt and checkered pajama bottoms. He wasn’t reading or anything, just looking up at the ceiling. He had dark under eye circles and his hair looked exactly how you’d expect for someone who’d been stuck in bed for four days: a little greasy and matted and pillow-flattened and cowlick-y. His rumpledness made him look younger and more vulnerable, which isn't a word I ever thought I'd use to describe him. He turned his head and looked at me. Smiled, but with sad eyes. All the mess of hurt feelings that had been cycling through me all week seemed to slip instantly away the minute I saw that tired little half-smile. My chest felt tight. I was so happy to see him.
“Hi,” I said.
“You forgot your shoes,” he said. Honestly, he was obsessed with my shoes (or lack thereof).
“I donated them to the poor.”
“Guess the jeans are next.” (The jeans I was wearing were basically in tatters, but I didn't care because they were my favorite and unbelievably soft).
“Yeah," I said and we both laughed. His honey laugh was still there, just a little raspier than normal.
I examined him closer. “You look a little pale.”
“I still look more Mexican than you do.”
“Everybody looks more Mexican than I do. Pick it up with the people who handed me my genes.” I’d meant for it to come out flippantly, our regular joke, ha-ha, but was surprised to hear more than a tinge of bitterness in my voice.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “So you brought your sketch pad.” He knew me well enough to change the subject away from all the Mexican stuff.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to show me your drawings?”
“Nope. I’m going to sketch you.”
The idea to sketch him had come to me earlier in the week, after my parents told me about Chicago, because I wanted a way to remember him if we ended up moving. We didn’t have any photos of each other (I planned to remedy that by convincing him to go into a photobooth with me the next time we went to the arcade). I’d drawn pictures of him from memory, but they didn’t quite capture his features in a way that I was happy with. They were my filtered and cartoonish reinterpretation of him, which is not the same as when you can draw someone when they’re right in front of you. When they let you really look at them.
“What if I don’t want to be sketched?” he said and I smiled at what a typically obstinate Ari response it was.
“How am I going to be an artist if I can’t practice?”
“Don’t artists’ models get paid?”
“Only the ones that are good-looking.”
“So I’m not good-looking?”
He arched an eyebrow and we looked at each other for a brief moment. Was he messing with me? 'Good-looking'? Who was he kidding? That was like describing the sky as simply ‘blue’ when there are words out there like azure, sapphire, cerulean, or cornflower. Heart wrenchingly beautiful.Those are the word I would have chosen, if he’d asked me sincerely, not as a breezy offhand joke, what I really thought when I looked at him. Even in his post-flu state, all disheveled hair, sallow skin and blood-shot eyes, he was still the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.“Don’t be an asshole,” I said, pure deflection, because I was beginning to feel my cheeks and neck get incriminatingly hot but I tried to shrug it off, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Of course he'd notice. He had eyes and my face was probably redder than a fire engine. Cardinal red. Russet. Sanguine.
Then something happened I wouldn't have predicted. Ari’s face got red, too. Was this some sort of belated fever symptom? He was the last guy in the world who I thought was capable of blushing. “So you’re really going to be an artist?” he asked to the ceiling, not me.
“Absolutely. You don’t believe me?” I found in that moment I could look nowhere else but his flushed cheeks and his lips, which were a little chapped, but still perfectly pink.
“I need evidence,” he said.
I sat down on his rocking chair and got my pencils and sketchbook out, fiddling a bit and taking more time than was probably necessary, since I realized that if I looked at him again right away I was afraid of what might come out of my mouth. It took a second for my heart to stop jack-hammering. When I’d gotten all my supplies ready I looked back at him, this time in the subjective and focused way an artist looks at a subject, not the confusing and dizzying way a friend looks at another friend’s lips.
“You still look sick.”
“Thanks.”
“Maybe it’s your dreams.”
“Maybe.”
“When I was a boy, I used to wake up thinking that the world was ending. I’d get up and look in the mirror and my eyes were sad.”
As a child the idea of atomic bombs and nuclear war had both terrified and fascinated me, especially after my grade school teachers made us practice emergency “duck and cover” drills. Later when we learned about the Vietnam War and I read that Little Boy was the codename for the bomb dropped in Hiroshima, I thought immediately of those drills. All of our little bodies crouched in rows by our hallway lockers, our little hands covering our little heads.
“You mean like mine,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“My eyes are always sad.”
The way he looked at me made me wonder if we were still talking about our dreams or were we talking about something else?
“The world isn’t ending, Ari.”
“Don’t be an asshole," he said. I liked that he’d repeated my phrase from earlier. It made me smile, despite the seriousness of the subject we were skirting around. “Of course it’s not ending.”
“Sad, sad, sad,” I said.
“Sad, sad, sad,” he said, turning it into another one of our little games.
This time I laughed in earnest, because it was almost like he’d read my mind, knowing how much I liked my words repeated back to me from his lips. Like I’d given him a present and he’d given me one, too, and when we opened them up we couldn’t help but laugh because we’d both given each other the exact same gift.
“I want to draw you.”
“Can I stop you?”
“You’re the one who said you needed evidence.”
I threw him the book of poems I’d brought. “Read it. You read. I’ll draw.”
I turned my attention to studying the room around him, my focus narrowing to lines and light. I looked at Ari, wondering how I could possibly capture in two-dimensional markings, shades and shapes the complexity of him and what he made me feel inside? But I had to try. I blurred my eyes momentarily to get a sense of just the light hitting his face and skin, like the smooth under painting before all the details are added to the surface of a canvas. I could tell he was nervous because he kept fidgeting and hadn’t opened the book. I was nervous, too. But I tried to project nothing but calmness so he would let me keep looking at him. I furrowed my brow in slightly exaggerated concentration so he’d get that me looking at him was just an artist-subject thing. Nothing to be scared or uncomfortable about.
“Make me look good,” he said.
“Read. Just read.”
He relaxed eventually. I did, too, though in a way that is similar to swimming, when you get ‘in the zone’ and a different part of your brain takes the reigns and you stop second guessing what your body is doing, so you are focused and relaxed at the same time. Breathing helps. He got caught up in reading the book of poems, which I knew he would like. There was one poem in particular I liked the most, "Youth". One line—from what we cannot know the stars are made—reminded me of my favorite Carl Sagan quote: “The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.” I thought about the carbon in the pencil I was holding, how it was made of the same starstuff as I was and Ari was. I tried to not only capture him on the paper, but cement all the little details of him in my memory as well. I knew I’d need them stored up so I could call upon them later, if the unthinkable happened and my family ended up moving to Chicago.
I drew and drew and drew. I was greedy for the smallest of details. The precise curve and thickness of his eyelashes. The twin crescent creases that formed between his eyebrows and the way he’d stick his tongue out a little when he was really concentrating on understanding a difficult line of poetry. The way the sunlight wrapped around his jaw and cheekbones, softening them and drawing attention to their attractive angles at the same time. And his hair. Since I couldn’t actually touch it, my pencils became a proxy for my fingers and I tried to capture the exact way his hair swooped lazily across his forehead, the nearly infinite shades of black, the tiny wisps at the nape of his neck. I could have drawn just his hair for hours.
At some point, he shifted his position so he wasn’t leaning up against his bed's headboard to read, but lying on his side, one hand propping up his head, the book of poems open on the bed in front of him. I watched him close his eyes briefly. Then shift so that the pillow was under his head, not his hand. He made a valiant effort to keep reading but eventually closed his eyes again. His breathing evened and he drifted off to sleep. I drew him just like that. It was the best gift he could have given me.
When I was certain he was sleeping deeply enough that I wouldn’t disturb him, I quietly moved off of the rocking chair and pulled his blanket up around him. I sat down next to him for a while, matching my breath to his. I was careful not to touch him, so I wouldn’t accidentally wake him up. He looked so peaceful it almost made me want to cry. I hoped that his period of nightmares was behind him.
I looked around his room and my eyes were drawn to the rocking chair I’d vacated. I liked the way the light hit it and the long shadows it cast on the blank white wall (since Ari had taken down all his posters). I tapped the curved base with my toe to make it move back and forth. It kept rocking for a long time on its own after I’d lifted my foot away because his window was open and there was a slight breeze coming through. Or maybe, I thought, because a ghost was sitting in it. An old world-weary ghost enjoying its ghost retirement relaxing in a rocking chair. For some reason, that made me smile. The chair was alone, but not alone, since I was there, and maybe the ghost, too. I drew the chair and it wasn’t until I was done that I realized that I was actually drawing Ari.
I left the drawing for him. Maybe he’d think it was just a chair. Or maybe he’d see something else, like I had.
I left a note with the drawing for him to read when he woke up.
Ari,
I hope you like the sketch of your chair. I miss you at the pool. The lifeguards are jerks.
Dante
4 notes · View notes
aviationfiction · 8 years
Text
XVII
Autumn Dupont
“You wanted me to love you when you said, softly, reach out and touch me. My love is in your hands.”
The sound of my voice filled the space of the palatial marble covered bathroom as I sang along to the stunning vocals of Stephanie Mills and the ever smooth and intoxicating Teddy Pendergrass. While shifting slightly to the right, my hands slowly trailed down, pulling the lavender flat iron along with them. Once I reached the end of the twenty six inches of tresses, I released it and allowed the bone straight strands to properly fall into place. My right hand placed the iron down on the counter as I ran the left through my hair to give it a bit of bounce and balance. I’d been working at properly straightening it for what felt like an hour while swaying my hips to the essentials of Teddy. Every second I spent listening to that special voice of his had me wishing that I’d been born in the fifties so that I could have been the muse of his love woos and woes. Instead, I’m left to just listen. Given the quality of his music, that’s more than enough to last me for a lifetime.
“Hurry it up Autumn.” I muffled my mumbling by coating my already lined lips with MAC cosmetics famed “Siss” lipstick. It’d be the final step of my multi tasked hair and make up process. I didn’t think I’d be as long as I’ve taken, but the comfort of the plush bed and it’s Egyptian linen left me purposefully entangled within the sheets for an addition hour after my alarm went off. I’m not quite sure how Rachel was able to convince Issac to allow her to book myself a thirteen thousand dollar a night suite at the Plaza Athénée but my God, I am more than appreciative of it. I’ve been in awe of the classically decorated Art Deco suite and left astounded by the phenomenal view of the Eiffel Tower from the terrace. I’ve been marveling in every single perk this suite and arguably the most romantic hotel in the city has to offer since my arrival and I am no where near finished. They say that a change of location and pace usually brings about peace and relaxation. Paris proved that to be true. A round of flutters filled my belly as Dante used my hand to guide me down the steps of the jet just a day ago and as I took in the already obvious scenic views of the city, I felt like I’d left my troubles and sorrows back in the states. For the first time in quite a while, the weight of my pain has drawn back and left me with some time to breathe.
My morning long thong dance party came to much needed end when I slipped into the high rise red stretch ribbed knitted midi skirt. While adjusting the waistband, I made sure the full length of the two way zipper was aligned properly. Omitting a bra, I pulled the matching Wang sleeveless cropped top over my upper frame. I’d seen this set in Nordstrom just a couple of days ago and refused to leave without the sporty yet posh look in my possession. Initially, I figured I’d pair it with either a pair of heeled ankle strap sandals or metallic flat ones, but given our plans for the day, these white low top Converses are the better and surprisingly cuter choice.
“Be right there!” I shouted loud enough for the person on the other side of the door to hear. While walking towards it, I twisted the earring back of my stud into place. Instead of glancing through the peep hole, I quickly opened the door and came face to face with the person I’d been expecting to see. My greeting suddenly became stuck in my throat as he leaned against the door post and my body instinctively took a step back when he properly adjusted his frame upright. My eyes panned down to his Air Max 95 covered feet, slowly trailed up past the perfectly fitted dark denim jeans and grey pullover sweatshirt, and widened at the sight of the black cap resting on his head. I expect formal attire despite it being a day of leisure. His uniformity has become the expected and no matter how much I tried, I could not picture him in anything denim, until now. I’m baffled.
“What’s up? I figured I’d meet you here and we just head down together.”
“You look nice.” I intended to formally greet him but my thoughts rebelliously poured out of my mouth beforehand. His eyes slightly shot up and the chuckle that slipped past his superbly blush toned lips left my entire frame rattled and unnerved. As my fingers ran through my hair, I briefly returned my attention to the floor to gather my thoughts. His scent; an odd make up of lavender and cedar, engulfed me.
“I do? Honestly, I was second guessing this. Surprisingly, the suits are easier to put together than everyday attire. These days I find myself working at it.”
“It’s great. It’s a nice look for a casual day.” I stepped aside and he walked past, slightly brushing my upper frame with his arm, to enter the suite. As I followed behind him, I listened to the sound of the door shutting behind the both of us. It was far more startling than it needed to be.
“You look nice too; incredible. The red is great.” I watched as he boldly analyzed every single aspect of my look and I nearly ran in the direction of the bedroom to dodge his intense and potent glare. With his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his hoodie and his tall frame intimidating towering over mine, he never once looked away. Even as I turned to walk away from him, I could sense his presence in it’s entirety.
“Thank you.” While standing at the head of the bed, I began to put on the rest of the pieces of jewelry I’d taken out to wear. He didn’t leave me alone within the confines of the bedroom for long. Upon his entry, he stood at the long windows and peered out at beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower.
“The view is beautiful isn’t? It was all I could look at until I fell asleep last night. Look at the Eiffel Tower.”
“It is beautiful. Not to brag but you have to see it from my room. It damn near feels like you’re standing in front of it. Come and see it later.”
“Well since you’ve given me an invitation, I will. I can’t wait to go and see it in person tomorrow.”
“Why don’t we just go tonight? We’ll have a bit of time to kill before we head out this evening. I figure it won’t be too time consuming to head over and see it tonight. We can go tomorrow too, after Disney Land. It closes late, so we won’t miss it.” Rather than asking me if I needed any help, he offered it by grabbing the final bracelet out of my hand, slipping it around my wrist, and carefully clasping both ends of it together by the hook.
“I’d like that.”
“Alright, then it’s a plan.” He wears his brim low, like a true New Yorker, and it oozes from his demeanor in all that he does. There’s just something about a New York man. You can pick them out from a crowd of a million. This particular New York man is distinct. There’s no picking him out of a crowd. I don’t believe a crowd would ever be courageous enough to stand around him in the first place.
“Shall we?” I double checked my pure white Wang bucket bag to make sure I had all of my day’s necessities and Dante grabbed the long sleeved sweater that completes the entire set and tossed it over his forearm. I hadn’t been thinking about the sweater and had he not grabbed it, I certainly would have left it on the bed. I’m known to leave things behind. If I don’t double or triple check my purse and pockets before leaving home, I go about on my journey missing something that is essential to my activities for that day. Shane would always play as my second brain. Like a parent, he’d come behind me and make sure to retrieve whatever I forgot. He’d been doing it since we were kids and if he were here, he’d be doing it right now.
“We shall.”
We were only been in the backseat of the Mercedes Benz for ten minutes and I was left in awe of the sights yet again. With Dante’s raspy voice filling my ears and my eyes taking in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, I wasn’t sure if I’d been trapped inside of one of my life long night time fantasies or if a big blue genie decided to grant me one of my many wishes. No, this has to be God; nothing more than God. I’d been wanting to come here ever since I curled up next to my mother and watched Gene Kelly and Leslie Carson sing and dance their way into my heart on my eight birthday. I was ill that year and wanted to do nothing more than lie in bed. With snacks that I could barely stomach and the warmth of her motherly love, I watched her favorite film and easily fell in love with it myself as she hummed along to every song and soothingly stroked her fingers through my hair. I invited Shane in on the love just weeks later. At least once a month, we’d share a movie night with mom and it’d always be “An American In Paris” no matter how many times we promised that we’d switch to a new film. Shane and I created endless amounts of Parisian adventures with every bit of information we learned about the city during our years of coming up and we promised that we’d come and spend an entire summer immersed in the way of life here. When I became a wife, my desire to visit here heightened even more. I wanted to marvel in my love for him, in The City Of Love and Lights, with my favorite musical’s soundtrack as our theme music. I'd envision the two of us walking along the cobblestone side streets, carelessly French kissing as our eager hands explored parts of our bodies that only needed to be touched behind closed doors. We’d visit the beautiful sights and small cafes, take pictures to fill a photo album for our children, and spend our nights making our first born. Andreas would always assure me that we’d come soon enough but soon enough became an empty promise I’d become accustom to. Instead, I’m here by the way of work and I’m accompanied by a man who I haven’t known very long. Oddly, this seems far more suitable. It feels liberating and genuine.
“Stand there. The lighting is nice.” Dante held my iPhone with his left hand and my purse with his right as I cheerily posed in front of La Pyramide Inversée yet again. I’d lost count of how many pictures I’d ask this man to snap as soon as we exited the car and he’s yet to complain. In fact, he’s hilariously encouraging it. He’d between changing between both my phone and his own for these pictures, aiming to get all of the right shots. I’d even brought along my personal Nikon but we’ve been moving too quickly for me to even think about it.
“You take picture with you husband?” The statement accompanied a tap on my shoulder and I swiftly turned to look at the curious woman as she pointed between both Dante and I. His eyes widened at the question she’d asked and embarrassment flushed throughout my frame as I slightly blushed at her question. The assumption bemused me. Neither one of us are wearing rings on the proper finger to signify a marriage and yet here she is somehow assured that we’re yet another couple in love, frolicking around this monumental city.
“Sure.” I chuckled as I shrugged my shoulders and his mouth slightly fell agape as she happily approached him. Chills danced along the back of my neck as he smirked and he handed over the iPhone. He then suavely approached me.
“Husband?” The warmth of his breath caused my body to shift in his direction and his lips lingered on my ear as he awaited a response.
“She said it. Not me.” His arm smoothly wrapped around my waist and the tips of his lengthy fingers softly dug into my flesh, leaving a tingle to dance along my side. Yet again, his aroma overpowered my own and left me intoxicated as it embedded itself into my memory. As he leaned in, his head rested on top my own and upper frame meshed into his. We both smiled. I only knew that because I could help but to glance up at his face in the midst of however many shots of that one particular pose the woman took.
“Vous deux êtes un beau couple!” As Dante took my phone out of her hands I couldn’t help but to laugh at her statement. I could only recognize the last word of it and that was more than enough to make it hilarious.
“What did she say?” I shrugged as a response to his question. She’d walked off far too quickly for either one of us to ask her to do her best to translate what I assume to have been a compliment into English and I’d be damned if I tried. Shane dedicated years out of his life into learning the French language. I’d chosen to take Spanish in high school and though I passed with high marks all three years that I took it, I can barely formulate a proper sentence of it now.
“I don’t know. Something about a couple.” I slid the strap of my purse over my shoulder as we began to walk along and my eyes took in the variety of people and cultures walking the exterior grounds of the historical museum.
“So what do you want to see first? You know there’s about ten different curatorial departments. This place is huge. It usually has up to fifteen thousand visitors per day.”
“Where’s the Mona Lisa?”
“She’s in the paintings department among seven thousand other paintings. You want to go there first? If we do, we should head to the Egyptian portion next. I think you’ll love it. They have arguably the most extensive collection in the world and it gives a lot of insight on ancient Egypt.”
“And the statues?”
“Sculptures have their own department. We’ll go there too. Don’t worry. I’m going to show you all the great aspects of his place.” His hand enclosed over mine as he pulled me along and we made our way through a crowd of people and past the lengthy line. Though we weren’t planning on visiting every attraction Paris has to offer, the Paris Passes he’d gotten through an acquaintance were the perfect score to get past the crowds and lines without having to endure the ridiculous wait. With every long stride we took and corners we turned, I silently thanked God that I’d chosen not to wear sandals or heels. Though I can handle hours in both, I’m almost sure I would have been barefoot by the time we finished with this massive place.
“There she is.”
Dante rose his arm to point at the world renowned painting and we took a step closer to the barrier that separated the crowd of people looking on from arguably The Lourve’s most prized possession.
“The painting is said to be of Lisa Gherardini. She was the wife of Francesco del Giocondo. It was painted around fifteen o three and was completed in fifteen o five. Supposedly it may have been painted for the new home of the couple or to mark the birth of their son, but either way, they never received it. It’s an oil painting. He started it in Italy and finished it in France. Later on down the line, it was acquired by King Francis of France and became French properly. It’s been on display here since either seventeen ninety six or seventeen ninety seven.” Mona and her seemingly content expression lost my attention as my eyes panned to the side of his face. He’s not only taken on the role of my tour guide, but he’s also a walking encyclopedia? What doesn’t he know or do? Though I don’t ask, I absolutely expect him to be able to offer expert advice in business, finance, and marketing but to say I expected him to be an art enthusiast or art history expert would be a lie.
“This is going to sound so silly but all I can think about right now is how she has no eyebrows or lashes.” His chuckle made me smile and I glanced at the painting once more continuing to wonder why Leonardo da Vinci would leave her without two pivotal assets to the beauty of a woman’s face.”
“Hm. Maybe the painting is incomplete or maybe women around that timeframe thought removing the eyebrows and eyelashes was a beautiful thing. Oddly, I’ve never noticed that until you mentioned it. I guess when you’re so busy trying to analyze the overall message of a piece of art, you tend to miss the little details.”
“Do you think she looks happy?” He slightly tilted his head to the left and his shoulders rose just a bit.
“I suppose so. I think everything this and about her is a symbolic simplicity. What about you? What does her expression read?” It was my turn to tilt my head as if that would help me better understand da Vinci’s mind when he created this masterpiece. Women tend to hide their emotions quite well and if anything, I believe he embodied the complexity of that aspect of us far more than he did an obvious emotion. Her expression is neutral and that can indicate an array of sentiments.
“I don’t know and I believe that’s the genius within this. That’s what makes this painting or rather this woman so iconic. We can stand here all day long and create a ton of scenarios about her facial expression, emblematic smile, and potential emotional state.”
“That kind of reminds me of you.” My mouth almost fell agape as I turned to glance at him once again. This time, he turned to take a look at me as well. The last thing I’d think I’d remind a person of is the Mona Lisa.
“Me?”
“Yeah. Well, before we began to speak to one another. I could help but to break the ice because I grew tired of trying to read you and understand what was going on in that head of yours. You were stoic. You still are.” I curved my lips as I assessed his statement and he playfully smirked. “What? You thought I was referencing to your looks? You’re no Mona Lisa. She wishes.”
With my cool on it’s hinges, the knot that was already resting within the back of my throat seemingly expanded in size and I immediately glanced down at the floor to gather myself and my thoughts as quickly as possible. My fingers fluttered through my hair and I’m almost sure I saw a glimpse of my flustered face on the pristine marble flooring. My eyes then panned to Mona and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the pale faced woman was laughing at my perturbation to this man’s every word and movement. I’m unintentionally overthinking about all that he is, says, and does. It’s bordering on the line of being unjust.
We’d gone off to see an additional thirty pieces of art work which is far more than I ever though we’d get through. The visuals I’d only seen in books or on the internet were nostalgic to see in person and he left me bewildered by all of the information he had about so many of these paintings by memory alone. I had to ask him how he’d been able to learn so much about art and he admitted he took art history summer courses over a summer at his alma mater just for the sake of culturing and enriching his mind. It became his way of taking his mind off of the endless business courses and his paid interning at A&M. The often misunderstood Jean-Michel Basquiat is his favorite artist and unlike the rap artists, his reasoning for him being so doesn’t have any cliches within it. He has a preference for neo-Expressionalism. Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.
“The artifacts in here date all the way back to about four thousand BC.”
“Tell me more Wikipedia.” We shared a laugh and he lightly nudged me in the side as my eyes glimmered over the Crypt of the Sphinx in the very first room within the Egyptian department of the museum.
“Well this piece here, they found it in about eighteen twenty five among the ruins at the Temple Of Amun at Tanis. That was the capital of Egypt during the twenty first and twenty second dynasties. This is inscribed with the names of three pharaohs; Ammenemes the Second, Merneptah, and lastly Shoshenq the First.”
“How the hell do you know all of this? You studied art history and Egyptian history as well?” He stumped me. I feel like I didn’t learn anything in school. While I am knowledgeable enough in both topics, he’s absolutely running circles around my intelligence effortlessly. I didn’t think it’d be this bad.
“Nah. I just read that little sign right there.” As he pointed it out, it was my turn to nudge him back and I shot a side eye in his direction over his amusement. I was so in awe of the beautiful craftsmanship lying in front of me that I hadn’t notice the plated description card resting to the furthest right of the wall.
“How many rooms are there?”
“For this section? I believe there’s about thirty of them.”
“My God. Maybe half or a little less?” We’d be here all day and throughout the night if we attempted to see everything. I don’t think it’s possible to do it all within a day. I don’t even believe it’s possible to do it all within a week.
“Yeah. We’ll know when we’ve had enough.”
We didn’t know when we’d had enough. Our feet moved as quickly as my mind; with every second of excitement and intrigue radiating from my frame. My desire to see everything heightened with each room we visited and as we cut corners and walked long stretches to see other domains within the museum, it took the both of us constantly checking our phone and even his watch to forcefully drag ourselves out of The Lourve to make it to lunch on time.
For lunch, we’d chosen Ferdi. Though small in size, it’s laid back ambiance was the perfect setting for the mellowed lunch we were seeking. Typically, the ever popular establishment is booked for weeks on out but Dante had been able to pull yet another set of strings to effortlessly have us escorted to a red booth in the back of the restaurant without any issues. While consuming spiced beef empanadas, their beloved burgers, and a shared bowl of macaroni and cheese, we relaxed and conversed in the comfort of the rich burgundy decor and stone walls. The eclectic musical soundtrack was an added bonus. I don’t know how we found the room, but we’d taken a complimentary dish of churros to go and finished all of them before arriving back to the hotel.
In a rushed effort, I stripped out of everything, leaving each piece as they lie, before running into the bathroom to do what I described to him as my quickest effort of freshening up. A quick shower, another session of applying lotion to every nook and cranny of my body, running the flat iron over the pieces of hair that needed a bit of heat, and lastly a touch up of my make up with the lip color changing to my favorite bold red. For the evening, I’d chosen Anthony Vaccarello pieces I purchased some time ago. Both were among the occasional “splurge for the sake of physically appeasing Andreas” days and I’d yet to find somewhere to wear them until now. Though short in length, the cropped sleeve suede dress and it’s high round neck would serve well enough to shield my upper body from potential winds of the now cool nighttime temperature. The dramatic cuts on the base were purposefully done to display the thighs but I’d deemed them to be tasteful enough. The cabochon stud embellishments were simply that; decorative enhancements meant to further heighten the style of the dress. The long gilded viscose jacket and it’s stylish notched collar could have been overkill but for some reason worked quite well in contrast to the suede. My strappy heeled open almond toe sandals were designed by him as well. To match my lips and step away from the blue and black garb, I completed everything with a red YLS clutch bag I’d taken out of my mother’s closet just hours before leaving the country.
With six minutes behind the scheduled time I assured him I’d be downstairs, I rushed out of the suite’s door and to the elevator. His patience is certainly a virtue because had it been anyone else, my head would be on a platter right now. Shane accepted my occasional lateness and that’s because he was late all the damn time. He’d always assure me that perfection takes time and though my beautiful brother couldn’t achieve any more perfection than what he already had, I gave him the time. I’d give anything to give him some more. Now, here I am, adopting his habits. Hopefully my perfectionist Parisian tour guide isn’t doesn’t ever become offended by what it unintentional.
As the elevator’s doors pulled apart, I chortled at the sight of him leaning against the wall waiting for me. What amused me wasn’t his stance, him waiting, or his presence. From head to toe, we were unwittingly wearing the exact same colors as one another. For this evening, he’d opted for a royal blue version one of his many designer suits. Much like myself, even his long trench style of coat was exactly the same shade of blue. To further sleek and enhance it, he paired it with a midnight black collared shirt and a tie of the same color. For some reason, the blue highlighted the bone structure of his perfectly symmetrical face and the tailoring outlined every aspect of him beyond reasonable belief. It highlighted the slight smiled that etched its way onto his alluring face. The blue enhanced the mystery that is Dante St. James.
“Great minds think alike?” His eyes slowly trailed down, taking in all of me, and I bid him a small smile with a nod.
“I’d say so.”
“Are you ready? You have everything you need?” The the double check I did upstairs was enough but here is my triple check. He’s it.
“I believe so. Where are we going?”
“Théâtre du Châtelet. We’re going to see a musical. An American In Paris. It’s not officially opening here until the fall but I scored tickets to tonight’s preview of it. I’ve heard great things about it and I figured since we both enjoy music, it’d be cool to see. That’s even if you like the theater. Do you? If not, we can do something else. The night is young and…”
“Are you kidding me?” I hadn’t intended to rudely cut him off but my knees nearly buckled as soon as the name of the musical slipped past his lips. This has to be some sick twisted fate because in all the hours we spent together today, I’d never mentioned anything about my all time favorite musical or anything related to it. We hadn’t even spoken about films. We spent house hours talking about our families; verbally introducing each of the key players in our lives with a well enough description about all of them. I’ve yet to see the musical live on Broadway. Anytime I’d make plans to do so, they always fell through. To see it here is more meaningful than it would  be seeing it anywhere in the states. This brings it full circle. Being here allows me to relish in it. I can’t quite recall the last time I’ve received a gift but this is arguably the best one that I’ve been given in years.
“It’s my favorite musical ever. Seriously. I could cry right now but then I’d ruin my make up. I forgot to pack my waterproof mascara.” We shared a loud laugh; mine being of excitement and his visibly being of relief. The nervousness within his aura couldn’t possibly equal to mine.
“Well, good. I’m glad that we’re going to see it. I’ve never seen the film, so it’ll be something new for me.”
“You’re going to love it. Even if you don’t love it, you’ll appreciate it.” As we walked towards the exiting doors, I slightly trailed behind him, taking in his stride. He moves like a warrior and yet his entire being screams gentlemen. His head is always held high, chin slightly up, and he steps forward with a agility that I’ve never witnessed within any other man. There’s no way possible that it's something that he’s been taught. I cannot assume that it’s within all of the St. James men. It seems so exclusive to him.
“First, we stop at the tower.” He held the door open for me and allowed me to walk out head of him. When we approached the awaiting car, he opened up the backdoor before the driver could and allowed me to slide into the backseat. I didn’t move far. Rather than sitting on the right side, I remained in the middle, close to him as he sat on the left.
“You know, since we’ve been out today, I’ve yet to see you use your phone for anything other than the camera. How do you get the calls to suddenly stop coming?”
“I don’t. It was on airplane mode.”
“Seriously?” My eyes widened at the revelation and he smirked in response to the initial shock.
“Yes. I took it off when we returned to the hotel and I put it back on while I was waiting for you to come downstairs.”
“But why? I don’t mind you using your phone or taking important calls. It’s understandable.”
“It’s nice that you don’t mind but I’d rather not. No one’s dying. If there’s an emergency, they know where I am.” My fingers tapped along my exposed thighs and I thought about my own phone that I’d left on vibrate. Most of my calls were from my mother and there was one from Heather asking me about the details of my almost completed plans for her bachelorette party and I rushed her off of the phone before she could began to meddle about what’s been happening here. I hate having to explain myself; especially to a giggly and giddy audience.
“Having you been sleeping well?” His eyes panned over to stare into mine and he silently questioned why’d I wanted to know.
“I’m asking because you work really hard. You deserve to sleep in and just have some time to breathe. Like I told you, you need to live. You can’t be all work and no play. Are you sleeping? Has this been okay for you?”
“I slept in this morning. I got some much needed rest and I lounged around a bit. It was nice. How about you?” I shrugged. A part of me wanted to lie to him and keep the medical troubles to a minimum but I hate to start what can easily spiral out of control.
“I sleep when my body allows me to. After the TIA it’s became very hard to do so without taking a pill. I mistakenly left them in my medicine cabinet. It’s okay though. I slept for a few hours last night.” His dark brows furrowed as he frowned and his blazing eyes peered into mine.
“So you suffer with insomnia?”
“I guess so. It’s a side effect. The hand, numbness here and there in my side, my speech slurs every now and then. It hit me a little harder than it was supposed to. That’s what the doctors say. My hand is at like ninety two percent. I still work on it, though I’m not sure if I’ll ever reach the full capacity I once had. They talked about surgery but I’m not interested. The hand is too delicate. I did and still do my own speech therapy and I’m much better. The numbness is occasional. I could have been dead, so insomnia is the least of my worries. You know?”
“But sleep is important.”
“It is and I’m working on it. I’ll get better.”
“Are you sure you’re working on it?” His intense glare didn’t falter. Instead, he placed his hand over mine and just about dared me to lie to him.
“I am. Seriously.”
“Good. We need you around for a long time. You have a lot to do before you’re old and grey.” I chuckled at the though of it. I do have a lot to do and I’m still trying to figure out what all of it will be.
Silence filled the car and we stared out of the same window until the car suddenly came to a halt. Dante couldn’t move fast enough. Within seconds of him exiting the car, my heeled feet jogged as quickly as they could until I was close enough to be face to face with the tower of dreams, hope, and romance. Though I looked up at it, it felt as if it was peering down on me, while miraculously shinning brighten than any sky in the darkened sky. The beauty of it is a testament to the capability of man kind and it’s power reigns as it stands in within it’s realm. I cannot differentiate between the natives and tourists but I could only wonder if people are viewing this in the same manner that I am. Can they feel the magic?
“Can you believe this?” He hadn’t been standing along side me like I expected. Instead he was behind me, quietly taking photos of me becoming one with the structure.
“Believe what?”
“This. All of this. How beautiful.” As I turned, the flash of the camera quickly beamed onto my face and vanished within a second. Had it been anyone else, I would have shielded myself but these moments are worth being captured. I’d like to look back on all of this one day and be proud of myself for seeing all that I’ve dreamt of.
“It lives up to the hype?” His eyebrows rose as he questioned me and I quickly nodded my head.
“And then some. This is awesome. Wait until I show my mom.”
“I know it’s dark but I think the pictures will turn out great and you look incredible. Stand right there. You can send these to your mom later on.”
“And a selfie. We have to take selfies.”
“And a selfie, Autumn.” He playfully rolled his eyes and pointed at the spot once again.
“I said selfies. That means more than one.”
“Yes. Selfies.”
Once he gave me the confirmation that I’d been aiming for, I obliged his request and stood in the exact spot that he’d chosen. With both of our phones in his hand, he alternated between capturing different angles of me and photographs of the tower itself. Yet again, he’d shown me a hidden talent. Who knew that someone could be so gifted at taking photographs on an iPhone. He turned what are usually the most ordinary pictures into something out of a Parisian tourism catalog. He’d even slightly edged out my selfie skills but I’m only giving him the credit for it because his arms are extend further than my own and he’s able to capture more than I can because of that bodily characteristic. Before leaving, he finally caved and allowed me to take three pivotal shots of him. I figured I’d print one when we returned home, frame it, and gift it to him as a piece of Paris for his office. It’d be a small token of thanks for his hospitality in a city that belongs to neither one of us. He’s made me feel at home.
Yet again, he gifted me with another breathless moment as I nearly sat on the edge of my seat taking in the musical. The orchestra took control of my body as I swayed and mouthed along to every single song and the intricate and stunning movements of the performance artists captivated my eyes. I was in a trace throughout the performance; imagining myself on stage with all of them, twirling and happily allowing my body to move along to the infectious sounds on it’s own accord. The smile on my face remained in tact from the very moment the curtain opened and it didn’t falter when it closed. Instead, I cheerily sang along to myself as we exited the theater and even in the car on the way back to the hotel. I became a source of entertainment for Dante, leaving him filled with laughter as he listened and watched the hopeless romantic within me blissfully pour out within the streets of the city it belonged in. I can be that here. I can be Leslie Carson, Audrey Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman, and Donna Reed. Even if it’s by myself, I can marvel in all of it. Even if it’s temporary, I’m thankful to be able to be the whimsical woman I became on a huge university campus in Los Angeles, California.
“You’re right. Your view is better.”
I slightly leaned over the rails and peered out at the Eiffel Tower as it stood in a short distance glimmering into the late night. A faint wind blew, flushing through the silk slip dress I changed into for comfort upon my arrival to my lavish suite. I planned to give Dante a break from the exhausting person that is myself but he reminded me of the invitation he extended earlier and I obliged. Warm Chocolat Chaud à l’Ancienne and macaroons awaited me and we enjoyed the midnight snack while lounging out on the terrace and taking in the wondrous view. The heat radiating from his lanky frame served as the warmth for my own and the sound of the city was the soother.
“I figured you’d appreciate it.”
Oh, I do. I certainly appreciate it; all of it. The view is second. He is first. I appreciate him more; more than I want to.
More than I need to.
My heart wildly thumped against my chest as my stomach filled with a ravenous rage of flutters. My lips quivered. My core tingled. My flesh shivered. My mind withered. I’m becoming undone, without a flicker of mercy, by my fantastical mind.
Dear, God.
Help me.
33 notes · View notes