an: i don't own anything here. prompts include: super bass by nicki minaj, candy canes, peanut butter and chicken.
-I mean, you're so shy and I'm lovin' your tie-
Massie Block was never fond of turkey. To her, eating turkey was the equivalent of shoveling cactus thorns down your throat, but much more mild. And so the night that Cameron Fisher insisted that chicken, "gives you the same feeling Pop Rocks give you," that was the night that she realized that Cameron Fisher wasn't just any other guy.
-I tried to be sensitive, I tried to be tough, I tried to walk away-
When Dylan Marvil was seven, she had the strangest obsession with candy canes. She begged her mom to have them hung around her room, to have them as appetizers before dinner (because, "Mommy, you eat candy canes with your finger, therefore, they are finger foods!") and for Valentine's Day, instead of handing out hearts, she gave everyone red and white candy canes.
To an extra special person, though, she gave him a blue candy cane. His name was Josh Hotz and Dylan, at the age of seven, knew she was going to marry him. But when she called his candy cane idea stupid, she vowed never to let boys dominate her life ever again and to always hate candy canes (she wasn't very good with promises)
She turned 14 on December 25. On that day, on her front step was a red heart cut out from construction paper, a mini candy cane attached to it. On the front, in barely legible cursive, read, "Happy Birthday, Candy Cane Girl!" On the inside, in black pen, were the words she never would have imagined.
You probably don't remember me: I'm Josh Hotz. You gave me a candy cane on Valentine's Day when we were seven, remember, and I called it stupid because Derrick (Harrington) and Kemp (Hurley) kept making fun of me about it.
I just thought that maybe you'd forgive me if I gave you a heart on Christmas and let you call me stupid for a change.
You know where to find me.
Dylan gaped at the letter. For the first time in a long time, Dylan unwrapped the candy cane and stuck it in her mouth.
-One man's trash is another man's treasure-
Chris Plovert rested his head on a pink, strawberry-watermelon scented pillow. Events from last night flooded his memory: fighting with his girlfriend, Olivia Ryan, going to their high school's benefit party without her, getting drunk and ending up in a dark, cramped room with Alicia Rivera (whose boobs were still very motorboat-able), but still going home with Olivia.
Yep, score 2 for Plovert and 0 for the stupid sluts at his school.
Olivia entered the room moments later, a tray of food in her hands. She was still in his dress shirt from the night before—to Plovert, this meant he was going to be scoring again very soon.
"Hey sweetheart," he greeted her. Olivia didn't respond; she set the tray in front of him and nodded at it, a sly smile on her face. Without a second thought, Plovert devoured the plate of pancakes in front of him, washing it down with orange juice. Olivia stood up from her place and slowly sauntered towards the door.
"Babe, these were great," Chris called after her, "but they taste really different from your usual. What did you put in them this time?"
Olivia gracefully made a 180-degree turn, that same devious smirk on her face, and with an air of triumph in her tone, "Peanut butter."
Chris's eyes instantly widened and he jumped out of bed, getting ready to flee. He turned to Olivia, who was still casually standing by her door, and yelled, "Are you crazy? Don't you know that I'm allergic to peanut butter?"
She nodded, "Yes."
"Aren't you going to help me?"
Olivia chuckled to herself and grabbed her bathrobe from the nearby hanger. "Nope," she called back as she made her way into her bathroom.
Score 0 for Plovert, score 1 for the stupid sluts at his school.
an: hey there, delilahs.
i hope everyone had a merry christmas/kwanza/hanukkah!