.˚ · ✧ for you blue

Luv,

Space Daddy.

And the result is in…

Tiffani’s hazel eyes slowly glanced over the blonde girl who was talking to her about Nicolas Cage. People CERTAINLY had interesting things they obsessed over. “Of all celebrities, y’choose t’be excited over th’one known for his weird facial expressions an’ his role of stealin’ a piece a’ paper?” Then her eyes landed on the shirt. “An’ y’could do a lot better than one shirt that you’re gonna wear for three days. Fashion don’ mean filthy, sweetheart.”

“Um yeah, did you hear yourself? That’s like, the exact criteria of his awesomeness,” Cindy said, not understanding why this dudette was being such a hater about it. Everyone knew that Nic Cage was an icon and a national treasure, pun absolutely intended. “Four days,” she corrected, as if that made it any better. “I can be as filthy as I damn well want, and I’m gonna be fab as fuck the whole time. Don’t need to worry about me, bro.”

“If you happen to get close enough to the mayor, challenge him to a shot-gun,” were the teens of the current era still shotgunning beers? Who knew. It was exceedingly difficult to keep pace with currents trends or fads. “A few back to back. If he loses then he must wear the shirt for an entire week, or like, have it turned into a flag and flown.” Jules shrugged a thin shoulder. “Wait, how old are you?”

Cindy gasped in mock-offense at the suggestion, “As if I could put this masterpiece on the line. Although it would make a sweet-ass flag, I gotta admit.” Lips pursed in contemplation, alright maybe she would consider it. Could always get a new one... maybe she’d wait until Sunday, then at least if she lost, it’d save her the trouble of washing it. “Little old me? I’m 19, my dude. Totally legal.” Totally not suspect to stress that. “Why? How old are you?”

“Probably would be overkill, huh?” Ben had to laugh a little at the thought of it —- truth was, though, he wasn’t great at relationships, fake or otherwise. He was hardly the person to come to for experience, if anything, he was one to avoid. “Definitely something with fireworks or sparklers later , then.” He chuckled lightly. “And I have, they were just… pretty messed up relationships.”

She nodded, “Yeah, probably. We’re not gonna be that couple, for sure.” Although she didn’t have any personal experience with the stuff, she’d seen enough obnoxious couples. All that PDA stuff had gotten so much worse now that it was plastered all over various social feeds. Somehow that was infinitely more offensive than what she was doing on camera. “Oh yup, the fireworks are a given. And honestly who’s to say we’re not a messed up couple anyway? We could be. Can’t all be like, Prince Charming and... who’s the female equivalent? Some kinda BJ Queen or something?”

Meme Cuisine definitely wasn’t something he’d heard of, but when Cindy actually offered to get him one, he had to laugh. “You know, I’m going to have to pass on that…” he answered simply. Not that he didn’t like Nick Cage, because didn’t everyone deep down? It was a little… well, ridiculous really. “Standard. Of course,” he said with a nod of his head, breathy laugh escaping.

Cindy teasingly rolled her eyes at him, “You’re such a tease, man. You really had me going there thinking I found a kindred spirit or whatever. Heartbroken.” If she had her way, there’d be meme shirts on display all around town. That was the world she wanted to live in. “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. I think you could rock a Shrek shirt too, like one with Lord Farquaad maybe. That’d be a look and a half.”

“Hey, I did it to try something different for once, y’feel me? And it’s working cause I’ve thought up chord progressions for my own band that I never would’ve otherwise.” He didn’t hate country, but he wasn’t exactly the first to wave a flag for it. It was just…there. 

She slid in next to him and Jude scooted down to give her ample space, wanting to make it very clear that he wouldn’t invade said boundary unless she wanted him to. He wouldn’t be like the other, loser creeps she knew probably. Their waitress came with the rest of their order — a big bowl of mac and cheese, and two servings of BBQ ribs. “Could you please bring the lady’s stuff from that table over there? She’s sitting here now,” Jude motioned to the waitress, who nodded and complied. “I don’t know why I just called you a lady,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head as he reached for his basket of ribs. “Totally welcome to split this with me, by the way. Unless you got an order on the way.” Then at last, he decided to acknowledge Stu’s presence, in between mouthfuls. “Oh, Arizona, this is Stu by the way. Stu— Arizona, my friend.” He didn’t exactly want to go into the nitty gritty of how they knew each other, and Stu would probably not bother to ask, anyway. Just smiled and and said ‘hello’ back, too busy stuffing his own face. 

“I’m just messing with you anyway, but that’s chill. Good to try new things sometimes,” she agreed, though it definitely veered on the side of a platitude. It was kind of weird to sit there with him and not fully know if she was Arizona or Cindy, as much as she was trying to be cool. “I’ve definitely done some weird shit just to try something new and different.”

She threw her hair back over her shoulder, because you’re worth it style, “I’m totally a lady.” A bold statement not entirely supported by her actions, as she somehow had barbecue sauce all over her hands and face just moments later. But hey, he’d offered, so she might as well fully indulge. She waved at Stu when space daddy introduced them, “Sup Stu, cool to meet you or whatever.” Her attention was quickly back to the guy she actually kind of knew, though it occurred to her then that she had no idea what his name was. But it was better not to bring that up and blow his cover. Wouldn’t be shocked if he was married or something.

“Do you always treat the ladies to ribs and mac & cheese? Because I’m gonna be expecting this treatment from now on, bro.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less representation of one of the most important male figures in American history. I just don’t think I’m the type of person that can pull that off.” Not that he wanted to, but anyone else? Sure. He could use a good laugh on a busy weekend at the diner. “You on the other hand, go ahead. There could be worse.”

“You could totally pull it off, bro, just gotta get the right one. You know, find the specific Cage that really speaks to your soul,” she said, sounding every bit like she was giving a sermon. Which, honestly, maybe that wasn’t far off from what she was doing. “Oh yeah for sure, just yesterday I saw a guy wearing a Jared Leto t-shirt. That was some big yikes.”

“Praise upon Nic Cage,” he agreed with a warm smile, admiring her shirt. Fuck that was something he needed to get his hands on. “The only way to honour that man is to re-steal the letter of independence, or whatever the shit its called.” Sure Will Smith saved America more than Nic Cage, but he wasn’t going to judge her on her ignorance.

Cindy’s eyes widened with excitement, “Hell yeah that’s the spirit! When are we going?” He was absolutely right, that would be the perfect way to celebrate the glory that was Nic Cage. It was only fair that someone paid tribute to him that way. “It’s in DC, right? Not even that far, not, you know, for the cause. We can wear Nic Cage masks and everything.”

arizonabluess sparkle sparkle bitch #happyfourth

Jude: damn it's a conspiracy

Jude: but i really need ur help rn.

Jude: Which Founding Father did not sign the Declaration of Independence?

Jude: JEfferson, Hamilton, Adams or Franklin

Jude: QUICKLY PLS

Arizona: uhhhhh fuck if i know

Arizona: gonna guess franklin bc my boi was probably busy flying kites or whatever the fuck

Jude: I'm at this trivia game thing

Jude: and if you don't help me get the next answer I swear to god—

Arizona: this BETTER be about star trek

Arizona: or shrek

Arizona: omg did u ever notice they both start with s and end in ek??????????????!!

It wouldn’t have been a Fourth of July weekend without The Hideout supplying the dessert for the BBQ on Main Street. Red, white and blue cupcakes were pretty much a tradition now and Eddie always made too many. Usually he could get rid of them for free at the end of the day, though, if there were any left —- or Blair would eat them all anyway. Today they were actually getting along fairly well and she’d set off into the crowds with a tray and try and sell a few, which left him holding fort at the stall. He was getting bored, though, and staring off into the distance at people with hot food.

Spotting someone passing, however, he found himself calling out to them. “Hey, if I give you a couple of free cupcakes you willing to run over there and grab be a hotdog?” he questioned with a light laugh.

Being underage and shooed away from anything even remotely alcoholic, Cindy was going all-in on the other major aspect of the big celebration — the food. And obnoxiously shouting USA USA at every possible moment, but that was neither here nor there. She was already carrying multiple snacks when the Hideout dude called out to her... but who was she to turn down free cupcakes? “Oh hell yeah, dude, you got yourself a deal,” she said, walking over to his stand, “You mind watching these for me? What do you want on it? Also, you can eat like, a little bit of my stuff, that’s chill.”

“Bet you’ve been waiting all damn year to wear that shirt, haven’t you? Hopefully it gets washed before you put it back on next year. Please?” Charlie was sporting his own patriotic Backstop shirt, blending into the masses of red white and blue that was currently out and about on the streets of Beaumont. 

Cindy laughed almost mockingly at that question, “Heck no, I wear this bad boy as much as I possibly can. Gotta represent.” She had numerous Nic Cage shirts, actually, but this was by far her favorite one... and it was almost red, white, and blue enough to work. “But yeah, I promise to wash it before next year, dad. I’m just trying to get festive in a fresh and exciting way. No shade at your shirt.”

@cindy-eggers

“So what’s the plan? We get photos at every photo opportunity going?” Ben questioning, glancing towards Cindy as they made their way along Main Street.

“Where’d you get that from?” Jonah laughing very lightly, watching her for a moment, clearly having fun showing off her shirt. They really did make everything these days. Every now and again, the craziness of the internet astounded him. For a brief moment, it reminded him of his ex, she was always doing things like that, didn’t care one bit what people thought.

“It’s the cream of the crop from Meme Cuisine, my bro. I can get you one if you want,” Cindy offered, figuring the dude was kinda old and didn’t necessarily feel comfortable with online shopping even though he clearly wanted the shirt. She was nice and helpful like that, and it would help spread the gospel of St. Nic. “Got another neat AF one from there too, says ‘fat rat’ and then there’s a pic of... you know, a fat rat. It’s a big mood.”