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silver-renjun · 3 years

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Cafe 7 Dream: Jaemin

Word Count: 2, 443

Warnings: violence, mentions of death, stabbing

Read the prologue before reading this!

You headed into you 8 am class late as usual. After pulling out your notebook from your bag, you threw yourself down on the desk.

“Busy night, y/n?” Jaemin asked. You and Jaemin didn’t really talk that much at all. At the cafe, Jaemin was always in his own world, and in class he just stared at the board, though you doubted he actually remembered anything from the lectures. It was strange that Jaemin started a conversation with you, but it was also strange that you were resting on the desk. No matter how exhausted you were, you took notes, albeit sloppy.

“I had 3 essays to write. Two of which I didn’t even know existed until Haechan texted me for my work,” you replied.

“You should be more responsible, y/n. I need someone reliable to cheat off of,” Haechan said. You rolled your eyes at his reply and groaned. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

“You should just rest, y/n. I’ll take notes for you and we can review them after class today,” Jaemin said. He smiled at you, but you were fast asleep.

After class, Jaemin shaked your shoulder to wake you up.

“y/n! y/n! Everyone already left the class. It’s time to go,” Jaemin whispered in your ear.

“Where are the other guys?” you asked with a breathy voice.

“They’re at the cafe already. I’m sure they’ll be fine without us. Let’s go to the library.”

Jaemin helped you up your seat and packed your books in you bag. He even offered to carry it for you, but you declined. Jaemin held your hand as the two of you walked over to the library. He was still worried about how tired you were and didn’t want you to fall.

The library was filled with students trying to study. Jaemin led you to a secluded corner in the back.

You dropped your bag down and asked, “are you sure they’ll manage without us in the cafe?”

“You’re the one who should be drinking an americano, not the one making it.” Jaemin smiled at you and reached out for your hand. “Don’t worry about the cafe right now.”

Jaemin lectured the content of the class to you. He was a natural at explaining everything. Even when you had a question about the topic, Jaemin was able to answer them with ease. As you copied down your notes, you were surprised to find yourself understanding the content better when Jaemin was teaching you.

At the end of the session you said, “You take such good notes! And remember everything from class too! I’m impressed. We should totally do this more often.”

“Well I still have to work at the cafe to pay my tuition, but I’ll definitely help you out, y/n.”

“Yeah, working at the cafe is my destresser. I wouldn’t want to give that up,” you chuckled. “Maybe you could come over to my place after work and we can study then.”

The next day, you were late to class once again. You rushed over to your seat, but this time you didn’t pull out your books. You knew Jaemin had you covered, so you plopped your head down on the desk for some rest.

“y/n, I need you to start taking this class seriously,” Haechan said. “I need to pass, you know.”

You knew that replying to Haechan was just provoke him into arguing with you, so let his comment slide.

“You’re super late this time, y/n. I was almost certain that Renjun’s vision about your death had finally happened,” Jisung said.

Jisung’s remark was just too strange to ignore. Your head shot up and you gave Jisung a raised eyebrow.

“What the hell does that mean?”

A look of realization took over Jisung’s face before he looked down at the floor. “Sorry about that guys,” he whispered.

The other boys all exchanged uncomfortable glances as if they were trying to figure out who would explain what had been said about you. Finally, Jaemin broke the silence.

“We can talk at the cafe.” The boys had slightly less uncomfortable looks on their faces, but they still appeared to be worried about something. You decided to not stress over it. Your priority was catching up on your sleep.

After class, you and the dreamies headed out to the cafe and started preparing before customers arrived.

You were wiping down tables when you asked, “so is anyone going to explain to me what happened this morning?” You knew you were going to be working with Jaemin, and that boy was like a rock when got to work. This was your only opportunity to get answers.

“Look, you’re not going to believe us at all,” Mark started.

“We’ve got magic powers,” Haechan said.

“You see y/n, Jisung’s a wizard. He makes love potions so people will fall in love with our cafe,” Jaemin explained. While he was talking, Jisung pulled out a pink liquid from under the counter and waved it at you. You had no energy to question them so you just let Jaemin continue.

“And Jeno, he’s a water spirit. Do a little trick for us Jeno,” Jaemin said. Jeno formed a ball of water in his hand and shifted it into different shapes.

“What the-” was all you could muster up. “That water just came out of thin air! And you’re controlling it!”

“Like I was saying, y/n, it’s all magic.” Jaemin smiled at the look of wonder on your face. “Next up we have Renjun. Care to explain yourself Renjun?”

Renjun groaned before saying, “I’m an oracle. I see the future. And your future has an attack in it. I didn’t see you die like Jisung said, but since you’re a human, you’re probably going to-”

“Alright that’s enough,” Jaemin said, cutting Renjun off before he could tell you more about your fate. You were so amazed by Jeno’s abilites that you weren’t even fazed by what Renjun had said.

“What about you Jaemin?” you said with a smile.

“I’m human and so is Mark. We know our way around magic pretty well though,” Jaemin said with a self-satisfied grin.

“And Chenle and Haechan?” you asked, eager to learn more.

“None of your business,” Chenle replied harshly. Chenle’s tone snapped you out of your amazement and made you serious about your work again. Jaemin, like usual, didn’t talk much during his shift, so you would have to wait until the cafe was closed to get more answers.

“Hey Jaemin,” you said as you were heading out the cafe. “Does tonight work for you?”

The boys all looked at each other with wide eyes. They had no idea about your study plans with Jaemin.

“Any night works for me,” Jaemin replied as he followed you out the cafe. You could hear the giggles of the boys even when you were standing outside. Jaemin looked at you with an embarrassed smile before holding your hand and following you home.

At your apartment, Jaemin got to lecturing you once again. He made sure you understood every topic covered in class in full detail. You were still amazed by how good of a teacher Jaemin turned out to be.

After he finished talked Jaemin said, “well that’s everything we learned today. Got any questions, y/n?”

“About the coursework, no. About magic, yes.”

“Magic happens to be my strong suit, so ask away,” he replied with a smile.

“Well Chenle and Haechan didn’t really explain their powers. Do you know what they are?”

“Nope,” Jaemin said, shaking his head. “Chenle’s family is pretty influential in the magic world, so revealing their powers is kind of a security risk for them. Whatever Chenle does, I bet he’s pretty strong at it though.” Jaemin paused for a second. “As for Haechan, he hasn’t really gotten his powers yet. He’s kind of touchy about it since most people get their powers by this age.”

You nodded your head in agreement, though you had no idea how it all worked.

“So what about you Jaemin?” you said in playful tone as you poked his shoulder.

“What about me?” Jaemin replied, mimicking your voice and poking you back.

“What’s your relation with magic?” you said with a smile.

Jaemin’s face became serious. He took a minute to think before replying to you.

“It’s a family thing,” was all he said. You decided to not press him any further about magic.

“You know, Jaemin, it’s really not that late. If you’re down, you could stay and watch some Netflix. I’ve got some leftover pizza in the fridge too.”

“That’s a great idea! I know so many good dramas that are on Netflix!”

You microwaved a few slices of pizza while Jaemin picked out a show to watch on Netflix. It turned out, alongside having a coffee obsession, Jaemin was also obsessed with period dramas. He talked nonstop about the characters and kept on playing episode after episode. It wasn’t until you two had finished the first season at 1 am did Jaemin say, “it might be getting a little late now.”

He looked over to you for a response, but you had already passed out on the sofa. Jaemin stared at your sleeping figure and admired your beauty.

“Since you’re sleeping I might as well tell you this now. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the confidence to tell you this when you’re awake. I really like you, y/n. I think you’re the most amazing person in the world. I’d give anything to be with you.”

Jaemin sighed and went to sleep on your floor. Unknown to him, you had actually been listening the entire time.

It became a habit for you and Jaemin to study at your place after work. Jaemin would lecture you for a while, and then you would order delivery food to thank him for helping you. After watching Netflix, Jaemin would sometimes even sleep over at your place.

One night, you and Jaemin were cuddling on the sofa while watching a drama. Jaemin looked over a you and said, “There’s some things I should tell you, y/n.”

You smiled, expecting Jaemin to confess to you. What you heard was not a confession of love.

“You wanted to know about my connection with magic, so here it is. My mom used to sell plants, mushrooms, stuff you would use in potions. I would go foraging with her in the forest so we could find things to sell. Our customers were kind to us, they would even give us part of the potions they made. One day, this fire demon came into the store and gave my mother a potion to drink. She collapsed on the floor. The fire demon killed her and used her blood for a sacrifice.”

Jaemin began to cry as he thought about what had happened to his mother. You pulled him into a tight hug and rubbed his head. You felt sorry for Jaemin, who had to live his life in so much pain.

After a few more study sessions, Jaemin finally pulled himself together and asked you out.

“I really like you, y/n. I think you’re the most amazing person in the world. I’d give anything to be with you.”

“That’s the same thing you said when I was sleeping. You’re so cute,” you said, kissing him on the forehead.

Jaemin stared at you with wide eyes and said, “wait you heard that? You knew I liked you and you didn’t even say anything?”

You laughed at Jaemin before turning on his favorite show and cuddling with him.

The next day at the cafe, you were supposed to be working with Jisung, but he had gotten sick. You and Haechan were taking over for him.

“Hey y/n, you’ve never seen the potions room before, right?” Haechan said. You nodded in reply. “It’s crazy in there. You totally have to check it out.”

You followed Haechan into the back of the cafe where all the potions were. You were amazed at the amount of potions there was in the back room. Haechan grabbed a vial off a rack and handed it to you.

“You should try this one y/n! It’ll make you feel so energized!” Haechan said.

You opened the vial and drunk all of the strange liquid inside. Unlike what Haechan had said, you began to feel sleepy and collapsed on the floor. When you looked at Haechan for help, you noticed that he had a knife in his hand.

“Be good for me and don’t make any noise, okay?” Haechan said before slashing your skin with the knife. You couldn’t help but cry with all the pain you were feeling. You slowly became more tired until you passed out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in a hospital bed. Jaemin was standing beside you and held onto your hand.

“Oh my gosh! y/n, baby, you’re alive!” Jaemin said before tearing up.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Haechan poisoned you. He cut you for your blood. He used it for a ritual to summon his powers. He had already transformed before we could even help you. Haechan’s a fire demon.”

You wanted to say something, but you had no idea what to do. The whole situation was just like what had happened to his mother. You and Jaemin were both thinking the same thing, but neither of you wanted to say it.

A few days later, you were discharged from the hospital. Although you felt fine after your rest, Jaemin was the one who was truly hurting. Jaemin stopped going to class and the cafe because of Haechan. He just stayed at your apartment.

“Jaemin, you need to forgive him. I’m not hurt. I’m completely fine!” you argued.

“I can’t forgive him! That bastard nearly killed you!” Jaemin yelled at you.

“Whether you like it or not, you’ve got to start living like a normal person again! You can’t just run away from your problems!”

Jaemin began to laugh.

“You’re right, y/n. I’m going to make that scumbag pay for what he did.”

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docholligay · 3 years

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LIVESTREAM WINNERS AND TOP POINT COMMENTS

THose of you who read the schedule already know this but the winners are:

HOLLIGAY INVOKES THE SPIRIT OF CLOSET GHOST

and

WE COOK FOR DINNER IN THE APOCALYPSE

Please join me for both! It’ should be a terrifying, thrilling time.

AND NOW, THOSE OF YOU WHO MADE ME FEEL THE WARMEST. Thank you to all who answered--I know this was super self indulgent and it means a lot to me that you took the time. So, literally 12 out of the 13 of you got at least one point (One person did not give any details, or even a quote) MAZEL.

Point allocations are below!!

One point winners:

4(?)ish years ago, you sent Jet a series of letters/cards/funeral lilies, from different Sailor Moon characters. The lilies were for Mako. One card was from Michiru, after Haruka's death. I have never been able to find them again, but I just loved the care you put into them--how they were all written specifically from the character, the fact that you even put tear stains and perfume on the cards. It was just so creative and touching, and it felt like the characters were real for an instant, mourning and living and giving you a peek at their lives. --- @kumeko (That was A Little Letter, and Mako’s was actually a separate thing for the same contest!)

“Before you get yourselves killed I want to go on record as saying this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” Rei stood with her hands on her hips at the front of the garage- from that short story about Mina and Haruka strapping an engine to a shopping cart. You can really feel how rei must feel, the resigned exasperation mixed with genuine, but hidden, concern for Mina and haruka’s safety. I think i have said the exactsame thing before people i know do stupid shit. --- BeefSalad33 (oh ma, an oldie but, I think, a goodie)

OH MAN. I am always thinking nonstop about that piece where Minako confronts Seiya about bullying Haruka, specifically for the line where Mina spits out "you think she'll love you for this?" and UGH that LINE. it HAUNTS me, I want to BITE DOWN ON IT AND NEVER LET GO, I WANT TO PUT IT EVERYWHERE EVER BECAUSE IT HURTS SO GOOD, AND I DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT SEIYA. --- @wouldntyoulichentoknow (I’m so glad that I’ve managed to make both you and jetty grit your teeth and care about Seiya at some point ahahah)

"*But flowers grow from death and decay, don’t they? That has always been true, you know that, Mako. You are a rose of perfect beauty, grown in the rich fertilizer of your loss.*

She threw the stress ball across the room, knocking over the cup on the sink, spilling the ice down the drain."

The contrast between reminding herself of how life works, and then still being bitter about it, and knowing what she is and being frustrated about it. It's a lot, when sorting out various issues- i have trauma, and that makes me better at empathizing with people, i'm adaptable long-term, and that means i can put up with some bullshit, that kind of thing, but that doesn't mean those are wholly good things. It's nice to see it put into words, and so plainly, and with such a strong reaction of it.

Roses can still grow wild, as pretentious as that sounds with how your passage resonates to me, but it's still nice to feel that. ---- @katrani (I’m so glad it resonates with you! I liked that line a lot! )

2 point answers:

Christmas Carol, Stave 1 - “You are a terrible person,” she jutted out her chin, feigning strength. “Fareeha deserved much better than you. But,” she took a deep breath. “I still hope she forgives you, someday. Someday, I hope you will deserve it.” It feels like cheating to use the most recent thing you’ve written, but nonetheless this section conveys so much about your take on Mercy, so quickly. She may be an idealist, the peacekeeper and builder, and she may want Pharah to have a relationship with her mother that’s not this disaster, but that doesn’t stop her from acknowledging that Ana’s been the primary factor in making it what it is and telling Ana that directly. I love how you write Mercy (and Tracer for that matter) as very warm characters who try to see the best in their situations but won’t gloss over the fact that sometimes, someone does have to be shot in the fucking face. “Good” doesn’t mean “hopelessly naive”, even with a pacifist, and I appreciate that you have characters who show that.

Bonus, and a fringe case as technically part of the Fushigi Yuigi hateblog: “She was still trying to get home, had been unable to get Tamahome to let her poison him, and then Nakago had hugged her into his chest until she had been forced to flatten him with a punch to the nads. She was tired, she was hungry, and she was trying to have a moonlight bath to consider her options and wash the stink of a man off of her.

And then, Tamahome, again.” - Haruka-gets-dumped-into-Fushigi-Yuugi-as-Yui was a delight that entire episode, but this post was one of the best. Is it really just narrativizing your frustrations with the many, many writing choices that were made here? Absolutely. But it’s a fun little bit of comedic pacing here, especially with the utter exhaustion of Haruka that this bullshit isn’t over yet. (“Fuck my life” to the moon wondering if Usagi could help and regretting how hard it would be to drown herself are close runners-up on that front.) --- Regalli

(Mercy is, in many ways, my attempt to write someone who is MOSTLY a pacifist that I can respect. It’s not easy for me! I often find pacifism to be cowardice, because so often in life the people I know who are pacifists are, well, not the folks in the street. So i thought, could you write someone who is very hesitant to kill, who believes that even Doomfist, even Reaper, even whoever, deserve care if they are hurt, who believes that a sword will not leave her hand free to uplift the fallen, and make her brave? And make her strong? And so was born, Mercy, who proved that, yeah that person, at least in my mind, can exist.)

I think one of my favorite passages from your writing is from "The Rest is Commentary". Particularly the part that starts with "I am a doer. " That entire paragraph is wonderfully written, with mix of beautifully descriptive language to describe *why* you don't trust words. It's slightly paradoxical, but it also fits with the rest of the essay (?) so well. And even beyond that, I love reading when you write about your faith. You are deeply devout woman, and a personal aspiration to me. When you write about your faith, it reminds me that there is work that needs to be done to live it, and not easy work either. But it is very much worth every bead of sweat, and every drop of blood. --- @shavedjudomonkey

(Thank you so much! I love that people have connected so much with my Jewish writing)

3 point answers:

From Requiem for the Great Consummation, I adore the word play with "compose." Ie, in the line, "Michiru folded her hands in her lap and composed herself." Why? I'm a musician. So, Michiru, with her music, holds a special place in my heart. (Why Ami gets the music attacks is beyond me. WTF?) I don't think the writers ever really understood what it takes to be a musician, and while fanfic writers often include Michiru's music, I've never really seen it done well. (I'm sure it has been. I just haven't seen it.) Music is all about structure. It has to feel free and soaring, but it can only be that because of the intense amounts of tension and structure underneath. A kite without a string plummets. When I reach for high, soaring notes, that's when I have to be most conscious of having a solid base. Making music Is constant tension. So, often when I see writers portray musicians, it's all "she never felt so free and untethered as when she sang/played the,violin/piano/whatever." And I think, "wow, really? She must have been Crap." So, back to compose/compose. This wordplay shows that tension. The "I have rehearsed this 5,000 times and am still working so hard I'm sweating standing still in this freezing auditorium so that it can look and sound completely free and easy." This is Michiru's entire life. She is composing herself. She is outlining complex rhythms and tensions and resolutions that even though you hear when the piece is played, you don't fully take in or understand, and all you consciously comprehend is 'wow, pretty.' Because that's how music works. Organs have keys that can't be heard by the human ear, and composers include them in their pieces. Why? We can't hear them! But we feel them. If you look at the score for an orchestral piece, it contains So. Many. Notes. So much going on. But when you listen, all you hear is that melodic theme. But if you take out anything underneath, things change and cam fall apart. Michiru lives her life like that. She creates herself, composes herself, and it looks elegant and free and easy, but it is so so very tightly controlled and rehearsed, and that particular wordplay showed off that side of Michiru's music, which is one I don't get to see explored much. --- @incorrecttact

(Thank you so much for this!! I am NOT a musician, but so much of Michiru and music speaks to me, the structure of it, the discipline, the way it allows you to express yourself while hiding behind something else. And yes! I think of that double meaning so much!)

I want you to know... that this was very, very difficult. I made a notepad and collected shit I'd pulled out from your work where I could find comments where I did such, and then I AGONIZED. Here is where I landed but know it's so close with other things god.

"Winston worked in earnest at his inventions, and Emily went back to teaching, and the two of them began to cook for each other again. Family dinners once a week resumed, grew with some of the new recruits that were being folded into their family. Pharah and Mercy’s daughter took them to the zoo, the park, out into the world. Dva had continued the game they had all been playing before Tracer died, their party picking up after the terrible and well-done loss of their beloved rogue. ***Life did not return, but it grew forward. It bloomed again.***" — A Clock's Fading Chime

I ended up choosing this one because I hate it a little when I read it. Not because it's not good but because it's SO PAINFUL. I love so much about the way you talk about love, and I think grief is all a part of that. We grieve because we loved. The idea of the grief period, especially for those in a close circle of a lost person, being like the cycle of the seasons where a flower may die but life blossoms in the soil it left behind is so evocative and perfect and everything leading up to that last line is the soil for which that line got to bloom. The slow, simple way life returns to them, that they adjust to the heavy rock in their pack (A piece of yours I revisited for this and a metaphor I will always carry with me) and start growing stronger together. And that they find it WITH EACH OTHER too just god, it kills me. But would I rather wish it wasn't necessary? YUP. FOR SURE. It hurts to think about someone who plays Lena's role dying in our own lives and trying to mend the rift between those left behind. But it brings all those possibilities and who may have gone already before to mind because it feels so grounded in the reality of what these experiences are like and shit it's just a great sampling of everything I love about your work. Beautiful prose, saying so much with so little, grounded in stuff that feels read, and ending on a banger, transfixing line. ---- @thoughtfulfangirling

(Thank you so much! I LOVED that whole series of fics around that, as it is in the way that I often like to toy with the nature of grief, and the way that we go on. Things aren’t ever the same, but we go on. And I’m so glad you gt into it too! It’s very self-indulgent for me, basically everything with OW, so I love when other poepl like it)

4 point answers:

Given that I am not Jewish, I hope this isn't overstepping my bounds, but your passover Seder speech really spoke to me this year. Specifically the bits about the relationship between cowardice and metaphorical bondage:

"This is a celebration of our freedom from bondage, but it is a also a reminder, a call that we must ensure we do not, in cowardice, return ourselves to bondage. "

Without explaining too much, and risking the kind of parasocial oversharing that you lamented the other day in a post, this particular push and pull has been at the forefront of my mind this year. The intense gravity that the familiar, the easy, the safe, can have, versus the genuine terror of pressing out into the unknown in search of something better.

Trying to change, and to do better, and to press on, is fucking terrifying, and hard. But, that is not an excuse. And I appreciated the reminder. --- @blastoise-m

(Not overstepping at all! I am so glad that it speaks to you, I really, really love this kind of writing, and I really should get back to doing more of my Jewish writing. My rabbi is leaving, because we apparently don’t have the money to have a rabbi! And he’s readying people to be lay leaders, and called on me to be someone who could give Divrei Torah (sort of like our sermons) because of my tendency to do stuff like this, and it’s very scary! But really exciting as that’s the kind of stuff that had me interested in being a rabbi, is picking this stuff apart and applying it to our own lives HI YOU ASKED FOR NONE OF THIS SORRY)

"There are no beautiful deaths in this world, and am sorry that you must know it. Rei never was allowed to say goodbye. I watched Haruka grow weaker and more ill every single day. We each have been jealous of the other, at turns, but I tell you this truth now: Our lives mean much more than our deaths. You and Seiya had a wonderful love story, and you raised a wonderful daughter, and unfortunately it is very often difficult to finish a story in a satisfying sort of way. It is not the end of your story, simply of hers. For you, it is a new chapter"

I think this is still one of my top 5 fav fics that you've ever written. I still think of it randomly once in a while. It's such a small moment but it sold me Usagi and Seiya in a way never would have expected. It's such a moment of growth for both Usagi and Muchiru. A small moment of connection for two people who are so different.

This is wrapped up in the entire MaS series, which I could never separate from this work let alone this quote. The entire series is a series about love and all its many permutations. About finding meaning in a world when you think your meaning has been taken away. About carrying on when you think there's no reason to do so. And I think this quote really encapsulates all of that.

This story, this entire series, is one the favorite things I've ever read and I'm so glad that you decided to share it. --- @madegeeky

(I truly and in all ways love how much you love this fic, it cheers em and makes me so happy every time I am reminded of it. And thank you for loving that line! I FEEL that line. It’s been true for every death that has come to me, so I love when it has meaning for others. )

The 5 point answer:

"God separated the sky and the sea, and that’s true, but there will always be the horizon where they blend."

I'm not much of a quote person. I'll often remember the feeling or the takeaway but rarely the words themselves. This, though, has stuck with me.

There is so much in this world, and so many people, who see everything as absolutes. Black and white. Good or bad. Right or wrong. And as I've grown and changed, that has come to bother me more and more.

This quote is such an elegant and accessible way to express how that oh-so-common point of view is a fallacy. And really it's just a lovely line that invokes both lovely imagery and feeling. ---- @seolh

I FORGOT I WROTE THIS, and like the completely arrogant piece of shit I am, when I read it was I was like, “Oh fuck, that’s a solid line.” And yes I am with you on getting older and relizing that the horizon line can be so fuzzy out there, sometimes, and this quote WEIRDLY came back to me when I needed it, a lot, and so thank you!

#names for thing

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pastelwitchling · 4 years

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Guess who’s back... back again...

I’ve been wracking my brain trying to understand what’s happened to the fandom. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s noticed, but things have gotten... eerily quiet after season 2. It’s not that people aren’t commenting or aren’t reading fics, they are, and it’s a weird kind of silence to describe... but it is silent.

“But Rin,” you might be saying, “we’re in hiatus now, isn’t it normal that the excitement of the fandom has died down a bit?”

Well, you’d think, but not when comparing it to the post-season one fandom. After 1x13 aired, I’d say there were even more posts and fics up, at least for the first few months. Things didn’t really die down in the fandom until around November. I was posting every single day, I never needed a rest period to figure out what I needed to figure out, but more on that in a bit.

And that question kept coming back to me; why are things different? It should be better after all, shouldn’t it? There’s hope for Malex, They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is over, there’s jealous-Michael potential with Forlex... and yet things have definitely degraded instead. Last night, I understood why, and it can be summed up in one word; satisfaction.

Grab some tea and biscuits, folks, this is going to be a long one.

Bluntly put, season 2 was not at all satisfying in any regards. The season one finale sucked -- hell, the last couple of episodes where they tried to shove They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named down our throats sucked. But, at the very least, after season one, you knew what you wanted to see happen. Nothing was really resolved (Michael not dealing with his mom, Maria not talking to Alex about Michael, Alex waiting outside the airstream), and so, afterwards, the fandom was able to get together every day and talk nonstop about everything we wanted to see unfold in season two.

We wrote countless fics in which Alex confronted Michael and Maria, we wrote metas and tried to hope for better, and we still wrote a wide collection of fluff pieces because we hoped (on our really good days) that things would unfold for the better for Malex.

What happened with season two? Well, the Alighting, which I’m sure we all expected to be the central plot this season, ended up being mentioned -- what, twice? -- in the first episode then never brought up again. Memory loss serum? In a throwaway line. Possibly the coolest villain in the show? Shot by a son to whom he said two lines. (The wasted potential there on scenes we could’ve had with the whole family or just Greg and his father -- don’t get me started.) They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Which -- I kid you not -- I walked around my room before the finale thinking that there was no possible way CAM could mess up their breakup. In the end, broke up in a totally unsatisfying way filled with our need to interpret and analyze instead of a straightforward, You don’t love me like you love him. Alex and Greg’s ending for the season -- unsatisfying. Greg had shot Jesse for Alex, and they don’t even have a small scene of them together following that, not even a second’s moment of Alex’s hand on a silent Gregory’s shoulder -- nothing. What the hell?

Michael and Alex’s end? Not at all satisfying because everything they learned about talking to each other went down the drain as Michael wouldn’t even stick around for the end of a song because of some crap excuse (that objectively still doesn’t make any sense to me). And even Forlex -- yes, I will say even them -- got together in an unsatisfying way solely because Michael had left the bar first. I still think Alex would’ve gone to Forrest regardless of Michael being there, but to see Alex actually presented with those choices and choose for himself -- for once -- would’ve been so much more satisfying.

So where are we left now? After season one, as I said, nothing was resolved, but there was potential, so we got to make our own resolutions. We got to hope and assume. We awaited season two eagerly because we wondered how Michael and Maria would have to deal with the consequences of their actions. CAM’s solution? The only person that has to take responsibility for anything is Alex. And then, somehow, Max. Don’t know how, but he’s at fault.

And in the end of season 2, everything was resolved so poorly that it feels as if no proper thought has been given to any of these characters whatsoever. It feels like CAM really didn’t want They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to seem like they’d been together for nothing and based on nothing, so she ended them in a way where no one confessed to it. No one confessed that it had been a terrible idea, that Michael had never felt for her what he felt for Alex and never could, that Maria had committed a betrayal against Alex (had raped him essentially, but I’m not getting into 2x06 now), and so it was ended in a completely unsatisfying way.

Alex couldn’t possibly choose Forrest if Michael was an option -- CAM could never have allowed that, not to her precious cowboy -- so they ended and forlex started on an unsatisfying note. It feels to me like CAM was trying so hard to do something original and -- by her own sick and twisted definition -- “mature” here that she ended up with a story that pleased no one, and did none of the characters any justice.

After season one, I never needed a break. I was fired up, I was pissed -- sure -- but I had many brilliant moments to base my Malex fluff and fics on. Every time I closed my eyes, I thought of a new scene, mostly angst but sometimes also fluff and smut, that I wanted to write down. After season two, I needed that break because, try as I might, I could not think of anything to write. It was impossible because everything had ended in season two in such an unsatisfying way that I couldn’t help but think, “Where do I go from here?” Where was the emotion, the passion of season one? Where was the decent storyline?

I don’t do fix-it fics, I can’t change canon and it depresses me to do so because I know what the reality is, and for someone like me (hell, not just me, but for anybody whose writing is affected by what happens in canon), writing became difficult. We can write metas, but about what? There are way too many problems with this season, too many storylines and ideas that went nowhere or were explained away in a throwaway line. If we were to write metas, the anger and resentment and exhaustion would never end -- there’d be no letup! -- because there are no real good moments to go to afterwards like there was in season one.

I’m tired, and this season was beyond a tragedy for many more reasons than the ones mentioned above, but mostly for the fact that it stripped a lot of us away of any creativity and passion that should’ve been on overdrive, not so severely depleted. I will give CAM this though; it takes a special kind of talent to take the infinite potential of these characters and plotlines, and write them so ridiculously poorly.

#alex manes #michael guerin #anti miluca #anti maria deluca #rnm 2x06 #malex #forlex #forrest long #kyle valenti #kylex #max evans #liz ortecho #rosa ortecho #isobel evans #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #rnm meta

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berkblockman · 4 years

Text

Writer’s block // Bill Hader x reader

Pairing: Bill Hader x reader Word count: 1984 Warnings: Smut, fingering, unprotected sex, lenguage Summary: You arrive home to find your boyfriend Bill having some trouble writing a script. Seeing that he’s unable to get anything done, you decide to help him distract himself. (a/n): This was initially going to be a fluffy imagine, but then things happened.

You had been working nonstop for the last weeks. As happy as you were for getting one of the main roles in a promising new film, you were also exhausted because of all the work you suddenly had. Travelling, staying up late studying your lines, being on set all day… It surely was a rewarding job, but it took a lot of your effort and time. Regardless, you were glad that you were working in a new project. You had been having a rough time and now, you were seeing things from a more positive point of view. Surely, this job had definitely improved your mood, but it also made you realize how much you cared about the people closer to you now that you didn’t have that much time to spend with them.

And you were as glad as ever when one day you finished shooting earlier and you got the chance to go home before the sun had gone down. In fact, you had the whole afternoon to yourself, and you couldn’t be more excited about it. You were thrilled to get home and spend some quality time with Bill. Lately, you could barely see him. Mainly, because by the time you usually got home, he had fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for you and watching true crime shows. The only time you could spend together was a brief breakfast before both of you had to go to work, and as much as you cherished those breakfasts, you missed just lying around and chill with him.

Opening the door to your shared apartment, you left your things and went to your bedroom, where Bill was on his laptop, working. You showed him a big smile as he walked to you and gave you a big hug.

“What are you doing here so early?” He asked you after kissing you warmly.

“I have the rest of the day off.” The smile on your face grew bigger as you told him. “I thought maybe we could hang out or something.”

“I’d love to. But I am working on this script for Barry and I really need to get it done as soon as possible.” His words snapped you back to reality, you weren’t the only busy person in this relationship. You should have figured he would had something to work on too.

“Oh, that’s okay.” You said, not wanting to be pushy. “Maybe when you finish we can go grab a drink or something.” He smiled at you sweetly. “Is it okay if I just lie in bed for a while and take a nap? I don’t want to interrupt you.”

“Sure, it’s not a problem. Have some rest.” Bill kissed your forehead before sitting back in front of his laptop again.

Sighing, you crawled into bed and got under the sheets. You tried to sleep for a while, but seeing no success, you decided to play some silly mobile game silently as you watched your boyfriend work out of the corner of your eye. Taking a deep breathe, he rubbed his eyes with his left hand as he deleted a page and a half of what he had written. He seemed really frustrated.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, letting your phone aside and looking at him. He turned in your direction.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Bill tried to calm you down. “I’m just having a little trouble writing this episode.”

“How long have you been in front of that screen?”

“Maybe 3 hours or so…” He sighed, obviously tired.

“Well, you need to rest.” You immediately reminded him.

“But I really need to get this done...” He groaned, stressed. You got up from bed and walked to him so you could place a hand on his cheek.

“You can’t get anything done if you keep stressing yourself like that.” Your voice was soft, trying to calm him down. “You’re having a writer’s block. Take a break, forget about the script for a while and you’ll see how you come up with something good.”

“You’re right.” He sighed, getting up and closing his laptop. “It’s just that I’m re-writing the same scene over and over and I can’t seem to get it the way I intended.”

“That’s perfectly normal.” You assured him. “Don’t keep thinking about it, just take a break, okay?” You took his face between your hands. “We can watch a movie if you want.”

Bill seemed to enjoy the idea of watching a movie together, so you headed to the living room where he selected the film as you made some popcorn. While you waited for the microwave to get your snack done, you looked in your boyfriend’s direction. He seemed a little off, as if he was still thinking about all the work that he had still left to do. You knew how professional he was and you could imagine how his mind was now rambling about his unfinished script, but you also knew that he needed to clear his mind before putting himself to work again. You were immersed on your thoughts when the microwave’s ding snapped you back to reality. After getting the popcorn out of the microwave, you walked back to the living room and sat next to him in the couch.

The movie started and the both of you tried to watch it, but you couldn’t help yourself from looking in his direction from time to time, trying to make sure he was actually taking a break and not thinking about the whole script situation. He was in fact, but he played it cool so you wouldn’t worry. As you looked at him, you realized how much you had missed spending time with him those last weeks, and remembering that you had to go back to set the next day, you decided to simply enjoy the moment. If he wasn’t going to take that break after all, maybe you would do it for him. Without saying a word, you got closer to him so you could embrace him and place your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking a deep breathe. Bill looked down at you, a smile forming on his lips as he embraced you back.

To be honest, you weren’t even paying attention to the movie now. You could feel the way he was caressing your body and in that moment you didn’t care about anything other than that. As you licked your lips, you thought that maybe there were other ways to distract him. You placed a hand on his chest as you looked up at him, trying to catch his attention. When he finally looked down at you, you didn’t hesitate to close the distance left between the two of you and kiss him. He was surprised at first, but he still kissed you back, placing one of his hands in the back of your neck so he could get you even closer to him.

That kiss turned out to be a little more passionate than you first intended, but the two of you seemed to be okay with it. You weren’t the only one that had been missing moments like this one. His hands moved eagerly up and down your body, touching you through the fabric of your clothes and making your legs feel week. Feeling the familiar heat taking over your body, you sat on top of him so you could move your hips slightly against his, trying to create some friction. He started to kiss your neck as his hand slipped under your jeans and underwear so he could start fingering you.

“So wet already?” You could feel the smile on his face as he started moving his finger in and out of you. “I haven’t started yet.”

A moan came out of your throat without you being able to hold it back. Bill’s breathe against the skin of your neck was sending shivers all over your body and the way he was touching you was making you lose your mind. You placed both of your hands on his shoulders, trying to hold on to something as you felt yourself coming apart when he added another finger. Both of you knew you wouldn’t last long that way.

“Don’t you dare to cum yet.” He warned you, his voice was huskier now.

You closed your eyes shot, trying to contain yourself. How could he ask you to hold back when his fingers fucked you so good? He fastened the pace of his movements, bringing you to the edge of the orgasm. You let out a simple ‘fuck’ out of your mouth, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself from cumming. Almost as if he could feel it too, he immediately got his fingers out of you, letting you trembling and gasping for air. Looking at you in awe, he placed both of his fingers on your lips just so he could watch you suck them clean.

“That’s my girl.” Bill encouraged you as you passed your tongue along his fingers.

With his other hand, he was already trying to undo the zipper of your jeans and pulling them off, but his eyes were on you all the time, as if he was watching a miracle happen in front of him. You helped him getting you undress, and within a few seconds, you were standing naked in front of him. He started kissing your collarbone, his hands in the lower part of your back so he could press your body against his. Your body shuddered when you felt his already hard cock pressing against you, the fabric of his pants and underwear the only thing in between.

Soon, your hands were getting him out of his clothes too as he kept kissing and licking your breasts, taking an especial interest on your very sensitive nipples. He placed the tip of his cock carefully on your entrance, teasing you and making you moan once more.

“Please.” It’s the only word that your lips could form at this point, and it was also the only word your boyfriend needed to get inside of you.

As soon as you felt him in, you let out a little cry. He let you a few moments to adjust before he started pounding into you. You looked at him as he placed his hands on your hips, guiding you as you rode him. His breathing was heavier, making you get even more turned on, and as he kissed your neck, you could feel the pleasure building up inside of you again. The feeling of him fucking you, his cock hitting all the right spots, got you trembling once more. It had been a while since the last time you had fucked, but he was definitely making up for all the lost time.

His thrusts were harder and faster every time, and you didn’t know if you would be able to take it any longer. You couldn’t hold back the moans that came out of your throat, but he loved hearing you like that, he loved knowing that it was him the one that was making you feel so goddamn good.

“You can cum now.” He whispered in your hear, his breathing as unsettled as you had ever heard it.

And as the words came out of your mouth, you finally felt yourself reach the orgasm. Your whole body shook above his as he thrusted into you a few final times, reaching his own climax too. You needed a few seconds to catch your breathe before sitting by his side on the couch, your legs still shaking slightly.

Bill embraced you once more, getting you closer to him so he could kiss your cheek lovingly.

“That was amazing, babe.” He assured you, a tired smile on his face. “I feel a lot better now.��

“I’m glad I could help.” You smirked, kissing him again.

#Bill Hader #Bill Hader x reader #Bill Hader imagine #bill hader x you #Bill Hader one shot #bill hader thirst #Bill Hader smut

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naivesilver · 4 years

Note

31, 56, 19, 78, 20, 16, 11, 12 , 10, 4, 1, 21, 36, 39. Sorry if this is too many 😅

Guys it’s NEVER too many you’re giving me the chance to talk nonstop about Sonic it’s the best thing that’s happened to me in days

also I had planned to answer them in the order you asked for but it was driving me crazy so I sorted them out thematically sorry alfhjkhljshja

I answered 1 here!

100 Sonic Questions

21.) Tell us a funny Sonic-related story.

This one comes from the depths of my very first months as a Sonic fan. Basically, I had watched Sonic X upon its first Italian release as a very very smol bean. By the time I got obsessed again in middle school, though, I had forgotten everything about it except a few shots from the Italian opening theme and ONE scene from a season three episode, where Sonic and Knuckles played chess on a spaceship and then Sonic began running around and fell into space.

The “friend” that had introduced me to the show again (not a nice person and source of about 25% of my trauma, I’m glad to say I haven’t seen her in years) didn’t believe me and accused me of lying. Repeatedly. Unkindly. For months. How could such a stupid scene be in such an amazing cartoon? I must be trying to fuck with her.

Fast forward to the end of the year. I’m minding my business and I see a Facebook message from this friend, and another, and another. I click on it wondering what she’d be going ham over, and BAM. This girl had been watching Sonic AMVs on Youtube and had caught a glimpse of that scene at the beginning of a video and was fucking losing it over the fact that WOW, I HAD BEEN TELLING THE TRUTH ALL ALONG?!

Now, you have to understand that I wasn’t the kind of kid that swore, back then. I had been brought up to think that swear words would send you to hell straight away. And while not a delicate little flower, I was much, much cuter and more proper than I am now because I couldn’t live out my butch dreams quite yet. But I needed to express all the frustration gathered in those months.

So please imagine this baby-faced, straight A student 13yo wait for her friend in front of their school and bellow at the top of her lungs “BITCH, WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU?”

I still remember that scene fondly, though.

31.) Tell us a Sonic-related story that will give us feels.

Related to the experience I just mentioned, the problem I had in my first years in this fandom was that this person who had dragged me into it was obsessed with the thought that people would mock us for it. She said it was for kids, and when she got over it she gave me shit for clinging to my passion while she’d “grown up”, and she had me enjoy Sonic in secret and yelled at me for saying anything even vaguely related out loud where other people could hear us.

It got into my head so much that for a long long time I didn’t dare share anything Sonic-adjacent on any social media, long past when I’d broke away from her. I thought no one would ever take me seriously again. I felt ashamed a lot.

It got better, though. Slowly, I broke out of my shell and started interacting with this amazing fandom, and I found lots of people who didn’t give a damn about what the world thought of their passion. And I know tons of wonderful people outside the fandom, too, friends who encourage me to talk about Sonic even though they don’t know anything about it. Chats where any mention of Sonic has someone saying “wait we must tag naivesilver into this she’ll love it”. It’s - it warms my heart every day. Tumblr is a shithole, but it helped me in feeling free to do what I love in the fandom that I love most.

Thank you. To everyone that got me through that, thank you. You have no idea how helpful you’ve been to me.

19.) Favorite soundtrack

KNOCK KNOCK IT’S FUCKING KNUCKLES

youtube

20.) Least favorite soundtrack?

None I think???? There are some I don't listen to much, either because I haven't played the game or I just don't vibe with them, but there isn't any song that I particularly dislike. Almost all of them are genuine bops.

16.) (if you read fanfic) What are some fic tropes you love? Ones you hate?

FOUND FAMILY!!! Adoptive parents, siblings, friends taking care of each other, I want a shitton of fluff in my life. And kid!fic. I could read (and write!) kid!fic every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. That's why I enjoy Chaotix and Sonic Movie fics so much. Let's raise them boys well.

As for hating...I don't like high school AUs lmao I wrote one when I was younger but I never dared touch it again and I haven't read any Sonic one since 2014 at most. And most time travel fics. Sorry, Silver, I love you a fucking lot but time travel shenanigans are only funny in the two or three specific settings my mind lets me enjoy.

11.) Top five stages.

In no particular order:

-Press Garden (Mania)

-Casinopolis (Adventure)

-Casino Forest (Forces)

-Studiopolis (Mania)

Anddddd I haven't played much else so I'll have to get back to you on this ajshfkjfahlljha

12.) Worst five stages.

-IMPERIAL TOWER

-Jesus Christ I died 78 times in that stage alone

-I'm bad at being fast and not falling off stuff and it required me to do both at the same time

-Also the Shadow DLC levels. Fuck me up a bit more will you

56.) In your opinion, what’s the weirdest thing any character has ever said?

I'm a simple girl, I see this panel and I lose my shit

10.) What do you like best about your favorite animated adaptation?

I only finished my Sonic X rewatch yesterday and I’ve been meaning to make some final comments about it (tho it’d probably be me rambling at thin air bc I doubt I can say anything that hasn’t been already said over and over and over) but the most compelling thing for me is and always will be the music.

Don’t get me wrong, what I’ve seen of the OG Japanese version had wonderful, heartfelt music, but the upbeat themes I grew up with still have me vibing day in and day out. I can dance to the Italian opening sequence at any given moment - no, you know what, here it is. Watch it and feel the serotonin drip into your veins.

(Some people will come at me for this, but I didn’t watch this show in 2019-2020 to make an in-depth analysis about it. I did it to have a dance off while Knuckles beat up some robots.)

78.) Post a scene that always gives you feels.

Sonic 06:

youtube

13yo me about to see her first ship torn apart:

4.) The last Sonic game you played is now your life. How awesome is this adventure gonna be?

Sonic Adventure - which means it’s a pretty cool life, unless it runs like SA does on my laptop and it turns slow and glitchy and grinds on my nerves even more

36.) C’mon now. How many ships do you have? :P

A FUCKING LOT my main ones are silvaze, vecpio and sonadow but I have many medium or small ones that I enjoy finding content for, like tikaze or knouge

39.) Which game is your golden standard?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not the greatest game fan as in I’ve only been actively playing for the past 2/3 years. Before that it was just gameplays on Youtube, so you should not take my opinion into any account since it’s not very informed.

However there was something about Sonic and the Black Knight that just felt...new? Peculiar? I know jack shit about the technical side of gaming but I remember being extremely pumped every time I logged in to see more of it. I'd like to feel that again, when a new game drops.

#Anonymous #sonic #sonic the hedgehog

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theblackandgold-series · 6 years

Text

The Prince and The Boy (4)

Chapter 4: Butterflies

A College AU

Texas Southern University (Houston,Tx)

Ship: Chiron Harris x Erik Stevens

Warning(s): slow burn, fluff

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Why hasn’t this nigga texted back yet? Erik’s thoughts swirled inside his mind.

It had been 7 hours and 31 minutes since Chiron last texted him. He knew that Chiron had seen his last message since he had his read receipts on. He’s probably just busy Erik reassured himself. Or maybe I was too pushy. Damn it! The frustration that Erik felt must of been conveyed on his face, because Khalil made his way over to him asking what was wrong. “Nigga, you good?

Erik kissed his teeth, “I’m fine, damn. Why you always askin’ me that?”

“Cause you always got some shit wrong with you,” Khalil said as he sat next to him in the locker room. Erik shrugs as he stuffs his practice jersey and gear into his Nike duffle bag. He looks to his phone once more, hoping to see a notification.

“You know,” Khalil leans close, almost as if he’s about to spill a secret, “if you keep starin’ at your phone, the battery’s gonna die and then you really won’t get his text,” he ends with a grin.

Erik quickly pulled back, “Nigga fuck you.”

Khalil gave him a look. “Negro, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong…”

Erik let out a sigh. He and Chiron had been texting nonstop since they exchanged numbers at the bookstore. They had even evolved pretty quickly to sending each other memes. Nothing felt forced between the two, the conversation flowed easily. It was like they’d known each other for years. Erik assumed it was going well until he asked him on an official date. He’d texted him hours ago and still no response. Chiron left him on read and for the first time he didn’t know what to do.

Khalil eyes him, waiting on Erik to open his mouth to speak. Erik takes one more look at his phone on the couch. He looks away from him.

“I may or may not have… asked Chiron if he wanted to chill.”

Khalil looks at his best friend in confusion. “Isn’t that a good thing? I thought you were feelin’ him?”

“I am,” Erik says exasperatedly. “He just hasn’t texted back yet.” Khalil nods, waiting for him to continue.

“I thought shit was good. We were texting, vibin’ with each other.” He sighs. “I feel like I did something to fuck it up.”

“Did he say you fucked it up?” Erik shakes his head. “Then what the hell you worried for? Maybe he’s busy? He’ll hit you back when he can.”

“Nah, man you don’t understand. I could tell he was already nervous talking to me, maybe I pushed it too fast.” Erik looks at his phone again.

“Maybe he’s just shy?” Khalil spoke up, trying to find a reason for Chiron leaving him on read. “He didn’t talk much when we had that class together, just give him some time. You’re overthinking it.”

Erik knew that his friend was right, but he couldn’t help but think he’d done something wrong. “I don’t know what it is about him, but I really want this shit to work.”

“Don’t stress over it nigga, he’ll come around.” Khalil tries his best to reassure Erik, but he can tell it won’t make a difference.

“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.”

“Come on, let’s get out this locker room before they lock our black asses in here.” Khalil stands up with his bag on his shoulder. “We can talk about this at the crib. I’m hungry as fuck bro.”

Chiron is panicking. How is he supposed to respond? Of course he wants to say yes, but how does he say it without sounding desperate?

“Yo!” Bryson’s voice calls from the other room. “Just text him back!”

“Nah man. I can’t.”

Bryson walks into Chiron’s room to see him sitting on his bed. “What you mean you can’t? You been making googly eyes at this nigga for days and this the shit you pull when he slide in ya messages? You better answer that damn text or Imma take that shit and do it for you.” Bryson is fed up at this point. He’s heard Chiron talk about this nigga for almost a week now.

Chiron stares at the open message, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He just can’t get the right words out of his head and onto the screen.

Bryson notices the almost scared look on Chiron’s face and puts his hand on his shoulder coming to sit beside him. “Hey,” his friend says in a gentle voice, pulling him out out of his trance. “I know you’re scared because of what happened before, but this ain’t gotta be like that.” Chiron looks away as Bryson says, “Every man ain’t Sean.”

That name still brings tears to his eyes and a pang in his chest. He pushes thoughts of his ex away, glancing down at his phone once again. ”I wouldn’t tell you to shoot your shot if I didn’t think you’d make it.” Chiron dips his head avoiding Bryson’s gaze.

“I know for a fact that this nigga is feelin’ you too. So text him. If shit goes wrong, I’ll beat his ass.” Chiron can’t help but chuckle. A smile finally appearing. He takes a deep breath.

“Alright.” His fingers hover over the screen again. He twiddles his thumbs above the glass before he drops the phone in his lap. “I got nothin’.”

Bryson shakes his and snatches the phone, tired of his antics. He types out a message, showing it to Chiron for approval. Chiron presses “send”.

A loud ding takes Erik out of the game of 2k he’s playing with Khalil. He quickly reaches (read: dives) for his phone to see a text from Chiron.

>What did you have in mind?

A smile takes over his face. Erik has to stop himself from doing a victory dance. He responds quickly, fearing Chiron will leave him on read again.

>The museum? There’s a new Egyptian mummy and mythology exhibit.

“Why don’t you just call him, that way you can get an answer right now instead of looking like a kicked puppy waiting for him to text yo ass back.” Khalil inquired.

Erik shake his head and gives Khalil his middle finger. “Fuck you. I ain’t tryna scare him off.”

Erik’s text came in as soon as Chiron pressed send. “What’d he say?” Bryson turns his head away from the tv and looks at Chiron.

“He wants to go to the museum. Some Egyptian mythology exhibit.”

“Oh, like ‘Gods of Egypt’?”

Chiron turns to him, “Don’t mention that damn movie, it was trash.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Bryson shakes his head with a slight laugh.

Before Chiron could formulate a response to Erik, his phone began to ring.

Bryson peaks over at Chiron’s phone, “Speak of the devil.”

Chiron doesn’t let the call get past 2 ½ rings before answering. “Hello?”

“Heeeyy, Chiron,” he hears from a voice that is clearly not Erik’s. Chiron doesn’t get a chance to question who it is before he hears Erik’s distinct, deep voice tell that person to shut the fuck up.

“If you don’t—,” Chi hears what sounds like a struggle over the phone, “GIve me this shit! Hello,” Erik’s voice finally comes through the speaker. Chi smiles at the sound, and Bryson takes his attention from the random Boondocks episode to focus on his best friend’s conversation.

“Hey, um…,” Chiron looks to Bryson for guidance to which he responds with a shrug of the shoulders.

“You’re no help, “ Chiron mouths before re-focusing his attention on Erik. Bryson smiles childishly at him before turning back to the tv and checking his own phone.

“What’s up?” Chiron’s voice is uncharacteristically high.

Erik isn’t sure what to say, the call was not planned. Khalil stole the phone out of his hand after he again expressed his concern for Chiron not responding immediately.

The line is silent. “Did you mean to call?” Chiron continues, taking Erik out of his thoughts.

"Oh, oh yeah. wanted to make sure you were okay with the museum idea." Erik looks towards the ceiling with a wince.

"Yeah, I definitely am." A delighted smile graces Erik’s face. He doesn’t say anything else, caught up in Chiron’s answer.

“Erik?” Chiron calls, apprehension taking over his voice. “Is that all?”

The softness of Chi’’s voice sends a chill down Erik’s spine. “Wanted to make sure you weren’t runnin’ away again.” He almost whispers it, closing his eyes to steady himself.

Chiron dips his head, his hand holding the phone tighter. “Nah, I uh, I like where I am. I don’t plan on running anytime soon,” Erik’s eyes widen with glee, his heart beats faster at the response.

“Oh yeah?” He can’t keep the smile off his face.

“Yeah.” The line goes quiet again.

Erik clears his throat, a smile still on his face. "So uh anyway, you like bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches?"

Chiron slightly frowns at the sudden switch. "What?" What the hell? He thinks.

"Just answer the question."

"Yeah, I do." Chiron says sort of unsure of what Erik is hinting at.

"Aite, bet. i'll see you tomorrow Chiron." He hangs up excitedly before Chiron can return the goodbye.

Khalil playfully punches Erik on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you nephew,” he teases.

Erik rolls his eyes at his best friend’s antics and pushes him away. His grin consumes his whole face, happiness coursing through his veins at the thought of a date with the man he can’t stop thinking about.

“Who just hangs up the phone without letting the other person say ‘goodbye.’” Bryson wonders. “That’s the shit that white people do in movies. Disrespectful.”

Chiron looks radiant, a bright grin on his face. He ignores Bryson, consumed by the thought of Erik.

Erik makes sure to get up early this morning. He’d set five alarms last night, only needing one to get him out of bed. He wouldn’t let anyone know it but he was excited today. An extra bounce in his step as he gets ready. He puts on an extra layer of cocoa butter, and makes sure his dreads are pulled back and laid flat in the three braids on his head.

Before getting to class he stops at Morning Editions, to grab two bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits, and apple juice and orange juice, not knowing which one Chiron would want.

Finally close to where their shared class is, Erik is surprised at how nervous he feels. Of course, he’s had moments where he felt a little unsure, but the clammy hands, the racing heartbeat.. This was a new feeling that he wasn’t at all unhappy with.

Once again the seat at the front of the class is empty, Erik thinks Chiron must be running late again. He walks to his own seat and sits, putting his bag and one of the biscuits in the chair opposite him. Just as he pulls his phone out to text him, Chiron walks through the door. Erik subconsciously straightens up and resists the urge to excitedly wave Chiron over. You are not some 15 year old with a crush. You are a grown ass man. He takes his bag out of the seat.

Chiron quickly spots Erik when he walks into the classroom. He tries not to get too excited as he makes his way towards his new, Erik appointed seat. His eyebrow wrinkles as he notices the biscuit on the desk, looking toward Erik for an explanation.

“Bacon, egg, and cheese.” Erik grins at him. He pulls out an apple juice and orange juice. “I wasn’t sure which one you would want.” Chiron sits and points at the apple juice. He got good taste,Erik thought,But now I’m stuck with orange juice.

A bright smile meets Erik as he hands Chiron the apple juice. “Thank you.” Chiron is bashful as he says it.

Class passes by faster than usual. Neither Erik nor Chiron participate in the discussion due to their focus on each other.

The one time Erik does speak up, it’s to roast someone. Chiron laughs a little too hard at the joke and tries to cover it up with an unconvincing cough, prompting Erik to pat at his back jokingly, “You good?” leaving his mouth.

The two steal glances every chance they get. Only realizing class is over when a wave of new students walks in.

Both get up to leave, a comfortable silence between them as they walk out the class. Once out, Erik turns to Chiron.

Before he can say anything though he spots Khalil behind Chiron, giving a thumbs up, mouthing “You got this. Get it in.” Following it with a humping motion in the air. Erik’s head falls back and he groans this nigga.

Standing between the two men, Khalil points at the drinks in Erik and Chi’s hands. "Bro, this is light skinned erasure. I wanted a sandwich too. Where my food at?”

“At the store waitin for you to buy it.” Erik shrugs and sips his orange juice. Why do i put up with this nigga? He thought. The last thing he wants is Khalil fucking this up for him.

Khalil turns toward an amused Chiron.

“I see how it is, ima go get my own sandwich since my best friend out here acting branding new- Heeeeeeeeeyyy Chi.” He wiggles his eyebrows looking between Chiron and Erik.

Erik kisses his teeth, his irritation growing as he glares at Khalil. “Nigga, if you don’t get the fu-.”

Before Erik can finish Khalil stops. “Say less. I’ll catch you at practice.”

He leaves but not before shooting Erik a knowing look and an annoying grin.

Once Erik and Chiron are finally alone, Erik grimaces with his hand scratching at the back of his neck. “So,” Erik starts, “We still on for Saturday?”

Chiron isn’t affected by Khalil’s actions in the slightest, reminded of his own best friend. He gives Erik a bright smile to reassure him. “Yeah, of course.”

Erik is taken off guard by Chiron’s smile, his heartbeat quickening. “Aight, cool. Cool, cool, cool.” He mentally slaps himself at the repeating words. This never happened to him. He was always smooth with the people he was interested in, though there weren’t many. There wasn’t a man or woman who could render him speechless. So why does his mouth fail him when he’s around Chiron?

Chiron chuckles and bows his head bashfully. Right then all of Erik’s questions are answered. Chiron is different. He’s special. His smile, his bashfulness, the way he says his name. Everything about him makes Erik weak at the knees. He wanted every piece of him.

Tags: @wakandas-vibranium @bartierbakarimobisson @randomwordprompts@storibambino@theultimateblacknerdwithglasses @stressedgyal @great-neckpectations @wakandan-flowerz@blackgirloneshots @panthergoddessbast @maya-leche @texasbama @killmongerdispussy @yaachtynoboat711 @hearteyes-for-killmonger @erikaintdead @blackmissmarvel @blackpantherislife @awkwardlyabstract @blowmymbackout @forbeautyandlife @babygirlofwakanda @theunsweetenedtruth @icedcawfee @killmongersgurl @babybluepeaches @eriknutinthispoosy @vikkidc @killmoncoochie @nicknameiskittie

#chiron x erik #erik killmonger #Chiron harris #black panther fanfiction #moonlight x black panther #moonlight fanfiction #black panther

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sindearlyconnormurphy · 7 years

Text

Ours [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: Ours Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen Requested: yes! Summary: the squad keeps teasing the reader and Connor for sneaking off to get down and dirty–except, that wasn’t the case at all. Evan sets the squad straight. | Connor taking care of s/o reader with Depersonalization Derealization Syndrome. Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol, panic attacks, swearing | POV changes | First person reader | not proof read A/N: Thanks for such a lovely request, and thanks for giving me so much info on the disorder! I hope I portrayed it correctly, and I hope you like this!

“You all are the luckiest people on the planet!”

I found this hard to believe. It was sort of comical, however, in an only vaguely tolerable way, to see Jared Kleinman kick down the Murphy’s door, juggling several boxes of pizza and a brown paper bag full of God knows what.

“Care to elaborate on that?” Alana called, looking only half way over her shoulder. She and Zoe were on the floor, playing what appeared to be a very intense game of Sorry! They were already in their pajamas–yes, at six in the afternoon–and six of us had decided to have a lowkey party at the Murphy’s, since Cynthia and Larry had evacuated for a romantic weekend. Evan was parked in a recliner, his legs folded crisscross applesauce–his words, not mine–watching the girls’ game with genuine interest.

Connor and I were on the couch, my back to his chest, reclining. He was twitchy, and he had been all evening. I’d briefly asked him earlier if he’d wanted to skip the party, but he’d said no. Still, he laid behind me, combing out my hair with his fingers a little too roughly, his hips shifting uncomfortably every few seconds.

Jared stumbled in, dropping the pizza boxes onto the carpet–earning a loud scream of protest from both Murphy kids, the sound deafening my left ear. Connor felt me flinch and pressed a seamless kiss of apology to my jaw. I felt Evan smile at me from across the room–shy, like he wasn’t sure where to look. I tossed back a lighthearted smile, before turning my attention back to Jared.

“Because, my sweet flower,” Jared began, kicking the door shut and beginning to pull items out of his paper bag, the parcel crinkling annoyingly loud.

“Sweet flower?” Alana squawked, earning a glare from Zoe, who popped the dice unceremoniously and continued to move her peg through the holes.

“I come bearing gifts,” he continued loudly, brandishing his items proudly above his head. “Scotch, condoms, and Cosmopolitan.”

There was a moment of silence, the five of us glancing between the boy in the glasses, his pitiful treasure, and doilies Mrs. Murphy kept on the coffee table.

“I’ll take a slice of cheese,” Zoe called, stoic, Alana reaching around Jared to grab the top box and place it on her lap. Evan and Connor both had to bite down on their laughter at the sight of Jared’s shocked face–shaking beneath me, his breath at my ear, Connor felt like a reassurance that tonight wouldn’t be totally awful.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like our friends, it’s just that since we’d told them we started dating, they’d been a real pain.

“I hold in my fist illegal things!” Jared screeched, tossing the magazine on the floor overzealously. “And you choose to ignore me?”

“My mom owns Cosmos, dude,” I said, rolling over onto my stomach so that I could rest my chin on Connor’s chest, grinning up at him with tired eyes. School had been long for both of us today, and, frankly, I could stand to skip ahead to the part of the night where he kissed senseless in his bedroom.

“There’s wine on the rack, dumbass, and it’s a movie night, no one’s drinking?” Zoe said without looking up from her board game, tugging on one of her braids in thought.

“And who are the condoms for, idiot?” Connor nearly yelled, sitting up and jostling me back into a sitting position, my head swimming for a minute with the sudden movement, before relaxing against the arm of the chair.

Jared’s head swiveled, comically, between Alana, Zoe, and I briefly, before his eyes glued on Evan.

“Boys night?”

“No, you creep!”

We all laughed for a moment, watching Evan turn a sharp shade of crimson, curling in on himself in the chair. Zoe snorted a little too loudly when she laughed.

It was beginning to get frustrating–not making me sick yet, but any means, but nonetheless annoying. Because I knew what was coming, and it was only gonna piss Connor off–

“I’ll just give the condoms to Connor,” Jared said, throwing the box so that it landed in the empty space between us on the couch. There was suddenly lead in the bottom of my stomach.

Everyone realized, watching with baited breath as Connor eyed the box with firey eyes and a set mouth, a sudden blush creeping up his neck. It could set it off–shit like this had in the past. Still, I think–

“Gross, man,” he said, lightly kicking the box to the floor. His feet were bare tonight, void of the cute socks he usually wore, and after his movement he shoved them under my thigh–either for concealment or warmth, I didn’t know, but I scratched at the back of his calf loyally, letting him know what he did was the right thing.

Proud of you.

He grinned softly at his lap, and I could tell he was proud of himself too.

“What do you mean by that?” Jared screeched, reviving the headache that had started to blur.

“Drop it, Jared,” Alana warned, dropping a handful of green pieces back into the cardboard box, each thunk sending a hot jolt through my head.

“They’re sex machines!” He protested, and I felt Connor nearly choke beside me, drawing his feet away and stuffing them under a cushion. “Are you guys seriously not using protection.”

“Alana said drop it,” Evan said quietly, shocking all of us. “So leave them alone. It’s none of your business.”

“Whose ready for the movie?” Alana covered seamlessly, beginning to set up the tv while the rest of us began to calm.

Connor was shaking, and, away from him, I didn’t feel like he wanted me to reach out and touch him. I waited for the signal, something or anything that was him asking to get out of here, but he never gave it, just curled in on himself and watched the tv with blank eyes.

I shot Evan a smile, nodding in thanks.

What Evan had said was the truth–it wasn’t any of Jared’s business. It had unfortunately become Evan’s business, at one point, making him aware of the glaring fact that no one else in the room seemed to believe could ever be true: Connor and I were still virgins. We hadn’t slept together–and, we hadn’t planned for it in the near future. We just weren’t ready yet.

Not that anyone here would ever believe that.

I’m not sure I wanted them to, either.

Because at least that white lie kept the truth hidden, and maybe that’s the way it would stay.

—-

“Unpopular opinion: this movie sucks.”

“I agree.”

“We can’t watch romantic flicks or Mr. and Mrs. Murphy get ideas and leave early. This shitty sci-fi shit was all I had on hand.”

“Pass the alcohol, I changed my mind about what kind of party this is.”

Their voices were loud, pounding noises against my skull without really making any sense as to what they were saying at all. The dark should’ve helped, or I thought it would, but the high saturation neon colors and loud artificial gunshots on the television screen paired with the nonstop chatter of our friends made it difficult to concentrate, difficult to breathe. Everything was too much at once.

It was like living in a glass box, everything around me was vibrate and loud, amplified to the nth degree–but none of it felt real. Connor was staring unattentively ahead, his hands twitching in his lap. He hadn’t touched me all night. It usually wasn’t a big deal–I knew he was doing it to avoid the constant teasing about our PDA. It was starting to set him off, I could tell. Still, I just wanted a reminder I was real.

I decided to screw it, all their comments be damned, reaching out for Connor’s wrist as the signal.

His eyes snapped up to me immediately, concerned, his pink mouth forming an o. My hands were numb. He rose without a work, linking our hands and dragging me from the room.

“Where do you two think you’re going? It’s a little early to fuck, isn’t it?”

“C'mon guys, can’t you watch the movie? I don’t like knowing you’re doing that while I’m in the house.”

“–and Connor, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s–”

I had barely contained my sobs by the time Connor shut the door.

—-

“You guys shouldn’t do that,” Evan glared, turning off the movie and setting the popcorn bowl aside.

Jared snorted. “We shouldn’t do what? They’re the ones running off to screw each other’s brains out. It’s gross. We’re in the house. It’s bad enough they’re all over one another at school.”

“Yeah,” Alana agreed. “I mean, if they don’t want to hear us complain about it, why do it?”

“I can’t believe she can stand to touch my brother,” Zoe groaned. “He was being a real dick tonight.”

“You guys are so stupid!” Evan nearly yelled, shocking the other three with his uncharacteristic outburst, burying his hands in his usually neat hair. “They aren’t–they’re not–”

—- “Breathe, baby, breathe.”

His hands were roaming all over, pressing to my chest, watching his hands rise and fall too rapidly. I needed to slow down, breathe deeper. His eyes were concerned, hair falling into his face from where he leaned over me, knees on either sides of my hips. His hands scrubbed quickly at my shoulders.

“Feel me? I’m right here, you’re right here, we’re fine. Fuck, I love you, I’m here.”

It helped–he knew how to help, when it all became too much for me to handle. Touching me–it keep me grounded, reminded me what reality was, where it was. Connor was safety, I knew.

He leaned down, pressing his temple against my jaw, pressing kisses down my neck. We took turns like this–when he overheated, I was there for him, and when I had a bad episode, he was there for me.

“I’ve got you.”

—-

“What do you mean they aren’t having sex?”

“Let go of my shirt, Jared!”

“How do you know they aren’t having sex?” Zoe demanded. The three of them had Evan cornered, cowering into the wall. Evan’s bright pink face heated considerable.

“I walked in on them once? It was at school, after they, uh, left us. It’s not really any of my business–”

“Spit it out.”

“Whenever, uh, she doesn’t feel well–they have this code, she told me. Whenever Connor is upset or paranoid or she has a bad episode–”

“Episode?” Zoe asked, eyebrows scrunched. Evan paled.

“She never told you? She has Depersonalization Derealization Syndrome. Um, from what she explained it’s, uh, a lot of sensory overload–too loud, too bright, too everything–and she gets these episodes where stuff doesn’t seem real, I guess? I’m not sure I’m explaining it right.”

“I’ve heard of that, I think,” Alana said brightly, her face pinched.

“Oh, crap,” Zoe whispered, “and we’ve been making fun of them this whole time?”

“Well,” Jared sighed. “I feel shitty. Feel even shittier knowing Connor isn’t getting his dick wet, like, at all–”

“Just stop giving them crap,” Evan grumbled. “They don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Zoe nodded sagely, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Yeah, okay.”

—-

“Feeling better?”

“Mhm,” I sighed, leaning back into Connor’s touch. He was wrapped around me, our foreheads bumped together under his sheets. He leaned up to sneak a peck at my lips.

“I’m sorry about them,” he apologized again, squeezing my hands in apology, leaning in again to press a lingering kiss to my cheek, earning a giggle.

“Don’t be. Thanks for every.”

He smiled softly, his jaw clicking softly, eyes soft. “Always for you, sweet girl.”

“Don’t get too sappy,” I warned. “They’ll get suspicious.”

“I’m allowed to be sappy when no one is looking,” he protested, kissing my jaw. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Not possible,” he protested, finally leaning forward to seal his lips with mine, his hands grabbing softly at my waist. Connor was safety, I remembered, and I love him more than anything for it. The others could say what they liked–I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

#connor murphy #connor murphy x reader #deh #dear evan hansen #mike faist #ben platt #Connor writes the milk

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carasueachterberg · 7 years

Text

I took the pups for their wellness check and most impressively, we arrived there with no puppy barf after our long, hilly trek (Sugar Cookie did serenade me the whole way).

They were very popular with the office staff.

Taking four puppies to the vet is much easier than taking twelve puppies to the vet. The most popular question of the day was—“Are they really from the same litter?”

Admittedly, they do look quite different from one another. There was plenty of speculation as to breed and we agreed it was impossible to say. Bulldog was one guess because of the color and the underbites on three of them. The vet agreed that Fruitcake could likely have a different daddy. She said, maybe some kind of big herding dog, maybe even St. Bernard.

Everything was going well until Dr. M ruffled Fruitcake’s hair at the base of his tail and discovered fleas! OMG, how beyond embarrassing! Once again, I’m left feeling like the worst foster mommy ever. How had I not noticed?

I swear they weren’t scratching. I’m sure you believe me as much as the Dr. M did. I tried to explain that I’d been too preoccupied with poop and yoga mats and a jealous mommy dog and my life has been a tad on the hectic side…..as I rambled my excuses she gave me the nod adults give children who try to explain how the candy in the cupboard disappeared. When I’d finished, she said, “It happens. It’s a mild winter. I’m seeing lots of fleas.”

And yet, I can’t help but be FREAKED OUT.

Ugh. We haven’t had fleas in this house in years. Against my organic nature, I use that expensive, frighteningly toxic spot ever since we had a massive infestation that occurred while I was using a nice not-so-toxic herbal formula spot. Ever since that nightmare episode, I’ve been faithful about the toxic spot, even on the cats who live outside, even in the winter, even though it costs nearly a car payment to treat so many animals each month.

Estelle was given her spot while in the shelter prior to coming here and Gracie never misses hers because it’s part of her heartworm meds. So where the heck did these fleas come from? It’s January, for heaven’s sake! And they’ve never been outside! (I did wait until Estelle had finished nursing before giving her another spot, so maybe it was that tiny two week gap.)

Other than the fleas, Dr. M pronounced the puppies healthy – all of them, even Fruitcake. She spent extra time on his exam (he loved that) and said he looked great despite the fact that he did splits on the metal exam table. She said what he needed now was lots of exercise to keep strengthening those muscles.

When I asked what this meant for him long-term, she shrugged and said that as long as he got plenty of exercise and stayed a healthy weight, he was no more likely to have any issues than his siblings. And just like that, Swimmer Puppy Syndrome became a thing of the past for all of us.

What isn’t a thing of the past is the fleas. My fingers are waterlogged from bathing EVERYONE. There is a colorful pile in my yard where I tossed ALL the yoga mats to allow the fleas to FREEZE. My washing machine has been going NONSTOP since we got home, and the puppy room and toys all smell of vinegar. All the dogs and puppies are a bit tired of my incessant searching of their body parts. And ever since the vet said the word fleas, I feel itchy all over.

The fun never ends. Really. Never.

Here’s a few shot of my freshly laundered pups –

Fleas? In January? You gotta be... #funtimes #fosterdogs @rescueoph I took the pups for their wellness check and most impressively, we arrived there with no puppy barf after our long, hilly trek (Sugar Cookie did serenade me the whole way).

#fleas #fostering #OPH #puppies

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dearyallfrommatt · 4 years

Text

See the man with the stage fright, just standing up there to give it all his might.

youtube

I don’t know who needs to hear this or if it will do any good, but I don’t have access to marijuana or any hallucinogens and I don’t want to start drinking again, but if y’all ain’t going to act right, y’all need to leave me the hell alone. We got people seriously defending the CIA and worried about communism in 2020, people defending a president’s “purge list of enemies” as a good and normal thing, and an entire party facing that sort of lunacy dedicated to shooting its own dick off if their Precious doesn’t get the nomination (or if some others’ Precious they disapprove of gets it).

No, seriously, that’s really stupid and these are stupid times. The Dumb have won, and wrestling reality back from them might just be too much for this poor, old world. I’m not sure it’s even worth it, and even people joking about Life on Earth being wiped out by an asteroid are getting tedious. Mainly because you know they don’t mean it.

I realize this sounds contradictory, considering I’ve pounded out going on three paragraphs doing just this (and will probably write more), but I am tired of the pissing and whining. It’s not going to stop, though. Bernie Sanders gets elected and isn’t able to pull down the whole structure of capitalism in the first week, his biggest fans will be calling for his head. Trump supporters being ground into mulch to fertilize rich peoples’ rose gardens will leap at the chance, screaming “MAGA” all the way down with a smile. You know I’m right. We are months away from them defending him having sex with underage girls provided for him be Jeffery Epstein. And if Bloomberg gets the nod and then has the dime that’s hanging like the Sword of Damocles dropped on him, plenty of “reasonable centrists and liberals” will do just the same thing.

I’m tired, depressed, grumpy, cynical and melancholy, and to be quite frank, the anti-depressants ain’t making the nut. Part of it is my window of the outside world, Twitter, is full of guys who complain that protagonists from girls’ cartoons from the ‘80s aren’t busty enough, and this is considered serious pop culture criticism instead of evidence the guy needs to be locked away from decent society. My other option is engaging with my fellow humans here in rural Northeast Mississippi, and I doubt they want to hear it either.

I like writing, I really do, but I’m beginning to think if I ever had a shot at making anything worthwhile out of this, I let it slide away 15 years ago when I decided I was too burned out to keep doing it. I wonder if the return of that small taste of the sublime I get from cranking out a clever(?) turn of phrase is somehow proportional to the relative lack of being completely stoned every possible waking hour. I was the type of head that wouldn’t leave the house to go buy a loaf of bread without first taking a serious lung punch of the noble weed.

That’s probably too much. I had heavy stoners telling I was smoking entire too much weed, but on a realistic level, nothing much has changed with regards to the cognitive process. I’m still spending way too much time thinking about Jungian synchronicity or the philosophical implications of the Multiple-Worlds Theory. The colors are less bright, is all, and the jokes are less funny. Not that I’ve done much gut-laughing over the past several years, full of smoke or running straight.

People would say, “Matt, you stop smoking all that pot, you’d have more vim and zest for living.” But here I am, making a concerted effort to not sleep all day, only wanting to get up to hydrate myself and use the bathroom, spurned on by all the goddamn medication I’m taking. None of which, by the way, can I abuse for screwing my brain up, which is probably a good thing. “Matt, you want to travel,” says my therapist. No, I don’t. I just let you think that because I really don’t have a good comeback to you and I’m too tired to come up with one. I don’t want to leave my room.

Middle age is a drag, y’all. I understand what Pete Townsend was talking about and why he feels righteously embarrassed whenever someone brings it up. I’m supposed to be either married, kids optional, or some definition of “success” which I couldn’t suss out if you held a gun to my head. Instead, I’m just hoping my heart gives out before my teeth do.

But I like writing, I really do. This has been very cathartic even if no one ever reads it, and nobody ever reads what I write. I get these likes on WordPress and hits on Blogger, but I’m convinced it’s like when someone with a high follower count starts following boring, slightly crude old me on Twitter. It’s a never-ending source of amazement to watch people discuss coming up with fictional stories, so many they can churn out self-described “basic generic plot” genre stories to self publish books on Amazon. I can never get past adding more plot to get in the way of the story.

So, I write out this navel-gazing nonsense no one cares about or in-depth explorations of Doug Sahm albums from the ‘80s no one cares about or, indeed, patiently crafted explanations of why and how the Democratic nomination process does it this thing that no one cares about. It’s fun for me and amuses me, so there it is. I recall watching an old Perry Mason episode that took place at a “Camp Crystal Lake,” and realizing the only person who wanted to see a Perry Mason/Friday The 13th crossover was me, and mainly because I wanted to see Paul Drake’s smug ass gutted like a catfish. But for that afternoon, anyway, I desperately wanted to see it. And that is weird, I’m not going to lie.

Another thing I find a nonstop source of wonder is YouTube people who’ve done five-plus years of regular episodes on crappy movies or Top 5 Examples of Other People’s Ideas. A lot of it is no doubt my own self-consciousness and body image issues, but goddamn, haven’t enough people explained why Phantasm is an awesome movie? Then again, I never have been able to wrap my head around the “Let’s Play” phenomenon. It reminds me of watching amateur porn except more depressing, and frankly, I wouldn’t want to watch someone unattractive as me fuck someone who’d be willing to have sex with me, and I’ll let you fill in those blanks.

I had at least two more paragraphs here that apparently got ate when I tried to post the Terrence McKenna video. Just a bit of entertainment and elucidation for chewing through this mess. I guess it’s time to wrap this up and get on with my night. It’s pushing the Witching Hour and even though I don’t have anything on my calendar for the next couple of weeks, pulling all nighters isn’t as much fun as it used to be. More often than not, it’s pretty goddamn painful and takes me a couple day to get over.

But this has been cathartic, and that’s a good thing, I suppose. I mean, I’m still gloomy and irritable, but the winds aren’t howling as loud as they were beforehand. I’ve completely lost whatever thread I had tentatively wrapped together to bring this all home. I had something for this, I swear. In the end, I suppose it doesn’t matter so long as I enjoyed myself. And I did, even if no one else reads it or, frankly, if they do read it and don’t enjoy it.

Serves you right.

#depression #if this what life without hallucinogenics then you can have it #Terrence McKenna #bad gonzo is worse than no gonzo #writing

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