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delphoxqueen · 2 years

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Toralei’s Diary- Wave 3 (2011)

{Scroll to the bottom for the actual diary page images!}

This Diary Belongs to: Toralei

Better have nine lives if I catch you reading my diary.

Name: Toralei

School: Monster High

July. Two. Five.

Ooh they’re telling math jokes now…

Q: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?

A: Pumpkin Pi!

The math geeks I’m stuck on this bus with think that this is funny. So funny in fact, that the harpy sitting in front of me shoots milk out of her nose when she hears the punch line. I don’t think it’s funny at all. I’d rather be listening to the music stored on my iCoffin but two hours into our five-hour ride home my iCoffin gave up the ghost. It should have lasted the entire trip and then some except that one of my math camp roomies “accidentally” unplugged my iCoffin charger last night when she plugged in her fright light. I don’t even know why a ghost needs a fright light. What? Was she afraid that she would trip over something and go “bump in the night?” I realized what happened when we woke up this morning but we had to leave first thing so I didn’t have time to put a full charge on it. At least I got enough battery life to block out the two hours dedicated to the singing of “X Number Bottles of Ghoul Juice on the Wall.”

To add to the misery the seats on this bus only have room for two monsters and Meowlody and Purrsephone are of course sitting together which left me stuck in a seat next to a troll named Tesla who had never been away from her bridge for more than a day until she came to math camp. She cried herself to sleep every night. Not that any other monster but me noticed but then again I notice everything. I also noticed that Tesla wasn’t laughing at any of the math jokes either. In fact she seemed to be more miserable than I was. Well now, here I was thinking she was missing her bridge but if that were the case why didn’t she seem excited about going home? “Dish”, I said. She turned and looked at me for a moment and then stared back ahead “Okay- suit yourself then,” I said and then tried to curl up in the seat to take a cat nap which I had almost accomplished when she said, “My boy-fiend broke up with me… by text… the first night of math camp.” She still wasn’t looking at me but she wasn’t crying either. He was my first real boyfriend and… and I don’t know why I’m telling you ‘cause you don’t seem to care about any monster besides yourself and you’ll probably figure out a way to use this to make me even more miserable.” I didn’t show it, but that really hurt. Just because I enjoy the chaos that a good practical joke brings doesn’t mean that I’m intentionally cruel does it? I don’t think it does and besides; where’s the fun of kicking some monster when they’re already down? It’s a lot more fun to see the surprise on a monster’s face when they think they’ve got it all together and you can “help them” see that they don’t. So I said, “Guess you better tell me the whole story then so I can do a thorough job.” That actually brought a ghost of a smile to her face. Teala told me that her ex-boy-fiend was applying to colleges and decided that he needed to keep his “options open” in case he might meet his “intellectual equal” at school. At first I didn’t believe he actually wrote that and then she showed me the text. “Does he really think he’s that smart,” I asked. She kind of shrugged and said, “He’s scary smart but not as good at math as I am especially with differential equations.” She told me he really wanted to get into this one school because his favorite mad scientist taught there. I’d never heard of the school, but I knew who the mad scientist was because Mr. Hack made us watch a bunch of his videos in class. The videos were deadly boring but the mad scientist had this odd accent and speech pattern. I used to mimic his voice in class to make Mr. Hack jump. I’d wait until Mr. Hack’s back was turned and then scream, “Huhhacckk- theeese stuuudannts reeelease wuh-ill ah-yat wa-unce!” It cost me several days in detention and a trip to Headless Headmistress Bloodgood’s office the last time I mimicked the mad scientist but even Mr. Hack admitted he couldn’t tell the difference between the scientist’s voice and my imitation of it. We talked about a few more things and then Teala finally fell asleep. I was able to finally fall asleep as well but not before having to hear another math joke followed by an explosion of milk from the seat in front of me.

July. Two. Eight.

I went to MH today to pick up some pictures I left in the FearBook office. When I was done I went up to the belfry. It’s a good place to keep an eye on things without other eyes watching you. It’s also a good place to take a nap. Usually the hunchback who rings the bells… the bells… works up there but he was on summer vacation in France or somewhere so I had the place to myself; until Spectra came floating through that is. She thinks that she’s very stealthy but it’s almost impossible to sneak up on me and I heard the rattle of her chains long before she actually appeared. I pretended to be asleep for a moment then with my eyes still closed I said, “What do you want Spectra?” “Oh hello Toralei. Did you hear the news?” Most monsters don’t trust anything they hear from Spectra. I know better. There is always an element of truth in her “news”. You just need to know how to listen. Here’s an example; Spectra told me she heard that Nefera is moving back to town and will be taking over for Ms. Kindergruber in Home Ick. Not only that but Ms. Kindergruber is also going to quit teaching to become a roadie for her favorite rock and roll band. Now as much fun as it is to imagine Ms. K. climbing stacks of amps while wearing a sleeveless leather vest, bandana and steel toed boots it’s not going to happen. Although when compared to the thought of Nefera actually “lowering herself” to teach, it’s practically a done deal Ms. K. will be hitting the road. I’m pretty sure out of that confusing jumble of information the one true fact is that Nefera is moving back to town and probably sooner rather than later… now there’s a monster who enjoys kicking some body when it’s down.

July. Three. Zero.

Got an email today from Teala, the troll girl I sat with on the ride from math camp. Apparently her ex-boy-fiend got a call from the mad scientist he wanted to study under. The scientist told her ex that gust test scores indicated a “skuhh-ill weeeakness in diffuhh-wrential eeeequay-shuns” and that he ex should find some monster that was intellectually superior and “geeet sah-ummm tuutorr-ing.” Her ex was certain it was the professor since “no monster could fake that voice.” He also apologized to Teala for being an arrogant jerk and asked if she would tutor him in differential equations. Teala told him she would have to check her schedule. Sometimes it is just purrrecious the way things work out for the beast.

August. One. Three.

I bought a ball of dragon thread today for Sweet Fangs. It’s just about the only material that’s strong enough to survive more than just one play session with her. I don’t know what I’m going to do when Sweet Fangs gets bigger because I’m probably going to need the whole dragon and I’m not sure mom and dad are going to be good with that.

August. Two. Five.

M&P came over today. They’re like my sisters and I can’t imagine how boring unlife would be without them. We do just about everything together and some monsters even think we’re related but we’re not. Not that it matters since we don’t really care what other monsters think anyway. We are who we are and any monster or monsters that want to try and herd us better get ready for a long miserable day. Today we weren’t worried about being herded, today was a brainstorm session. Our mission, repay Cleo De Nile and her minions for not only ruining our perfectly planned graduation prank but also for taking away part of our valuable summer vacation by “arranging” our trip to math camp. Knowing that it was Cleo who got the better of us is almost as irritating as being wet or having my fur stroked the wrong way. I can’t believe that I actually helped her when she first wanted to be a part of the Fear Squad. Cleo didn’t even know how to do a cartwheel, much less a round off. So I took her under my claw and taught her everything I knew and since I’d been doing gymnastics from the time I was a kitten I knew a lot. I finally got Cleo to the point where she started to “get it” and instead of being a liability she started contributing. I figured that for all my hard work and leadership Nefera would make me the Fear Squad captain when she graduated. Only she didn’t- she passed it to Cleo. I can still remember what Nefera said to me when I confronted her about it. “I didn’t want Cleo to succeed- I wanted her to be humiliated but since you helped her, you get to deal with the consequences.” Then Cleo acted as if she deserved to be the captain and that she automatically knew everything there was to know about leading the Fear Squad. She should have showed some humility and stepped aside. She didn’t so now it’s up to me to teach her some new lessons and I can’t wait for class to be back in session.

August. Three. One.

There’s a meteor shower tonight, which will give us the purrrfect opportunity to practice the three D’s. Divert. Design. Demure. First I divert attention away from myself- although tonight the meteor shower should do that for me, next I design a “surprise” for my intended victim student and then after the unexpected happens I demure -“Oh my, what happened here?” More later…

Ended up scrapping the three D’s tonight, mostly because the meteor shower diverted me. I was supposed to meet M&P at this coffee shop down close to the beach- it’s the only time I go to the beach since sand + water + fur = unhappy werecat- but they were late so I grabbed a catnippuccino and waited. The owner turned down the lights of the shop so it was almost dark and then the sky was falling. The ghouls showed up just as somewhere down the beach a monster started playing guitar and I said, “Just because we’ve got nine lives doesn’t mean we need to rush through this one.” And we didn’t.

About Me

Name: Toralei

Age: 15 but I’m still on the first of my nine lives.

Monster Parent: The Werecat

Killer Style: I purrfer fashions that accentuate my natural feline grace while adding just enough spikiness in my accessories to say, “I don’t come when I’m called.”

Freaky Flaw: Purrhaps I could be faulted for my fascination with the claw of cause and effect… or not. I suppose it all depends on whether or not you’re the monster being affected.

Pet: Sweet Fang is my pet saber-tooth tiger cub. She’s much more cuddly than I am.

Favorite Activity: It’s either taking a nap or waking up from a nap and immediately taking another one.

Biggest Pet Peeve: I don’t like being rubbed the wrong way.

Favorite School Subject: Drama. My ability to perfectly mimic another monster’s voice or accent makes this the purrfect class for me.

Least Favorite School Subject: Math. It brings back unpleasant memories.

Favorite Color: Orange

Favorite Food: Milk shakes and anchovies. Separately, not mixed together.

BFF’s: Meowlody and Purrsephone

#monster high #monsterhigh #monster high dolls #mhdiaries #toralei stripe #mh toralei #mh diaries #monster high toralei #meowlody & purrsephone #nefera de nile

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jay-and-dean · 3 years

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Don’t look down, Baby Part 1/3

Dean x reader

Summary : Dean told her to ignore the “thing” between them and to jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but him.

When we think of a guy our Y/n could be with, longing for Dean, it’s usually a nice dude, a little boring, right ? Because who can compete with Dean ? Now, what if this guy was as badass as Dean ?

Characters : Dean Winchesters, Sam Winchester, Reader, Abraham Hale (OC)

Warnings : Angst, jealous Dean, Smut (unprotected sex -you’re smarter than this !-, oral, also kinda lame sex if it’s a warning), cheating, swearing, smoking, drinking... More warnings in the second part.

Wordcount : 6k (yes, just the part one... now you get why I cut it.)

Note : So for the Aestetic, I used the face of Jax Teller from Sons Of Anarchy, and you have to know, even if Abraham Hale looks like him, he is totally an OC.

This is writen both in Reader and Dean’s Pov. Dean’s thought are in italic.

Text divider by the talented @talesmaniac89

Jay’s Masterlist

September 16, 10:33pm

Dean’s POV

I always thought that when Y/n finds a guy, it would be the perfect douche I wanted for her. Some nice dude named Robert, a cop maybe, or a realtor with a friendly family.

He would annoy me to death with his stories about growing up in a farm, and call her Pumpkin. He would worry a little when she goes out with us because he thinks we drink too much when we’re together.

He would tear her from me and I would hate him for that. She would skip a hunt to meet his parents, another to spend a few days in the cabin he rented… But even if it breaks my heart, it would be exactly what I want for her, so I would let her go.

I had it all planned.

But, of course, she didn’t play by the rules.

And that guy is no Robert…

His loud manly laugh tears me from my thoughts. His tattooed hand wraps around his whiskey glass and I turn my head to that waitress that always gives me warm smiles, she’s staring at him now, with the sweetness that was once for me.

Abe.

Ex-gang member, Abe. Bad guy turned good. Raised by the widow of a gang member, in a violent environment, he already had a criminal record at fourteen, started selling guns before he was officially allowed to drink, ended up in prison at Twenty-two.

Sweet smile Abe. Reformed bad boy with an attitude. Became a hunter after he met a vampire gang and slew them to the last. Now defender of the good citizen, he found his fight, and the hunters talk about him as one of the bests.

Afraid of nothing and ready to fight, charismatic, alpha Abe. His muscular arm in the back of my girl, his long blond hair falling on his face when he lights up a cigarette in a grunt of content while she touches his neck.

Abe. My new nemesis.

“So Dean” he says with his deep voice hoarse from smoking too much. “How did you meet my girl ?”

I met her on a hunt, invited her to my room and took her on that wall. Do you remember, Y/n ? Don’t look down baby, look at me.

“On a hunt.”

“That’s how I met her too” he smiles and kisses her temple. “Seems like we have a lot in common.”

“Looks like we do” I state.

Her eyes darken and she turns her head, I know how to read her, she is pissed, and I don’t even know why. I did nothing, I said nothing, and her rock-and-roll version of prince charming is worshiping her, so what causes that bitterness ?

What is it, baby ? Am I missing something ?

“So I heard your brother and you have this fucking palace ?” he gives me a corner smile, smoke coming out of his nose.

“Who told you that ?” I grunt.

What is the point of a secret bunker if it is as secret as a freaking tweet ?

He chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey, not answering.

Abe never answers all the questions he is asked, maybe it is some cool thing for guys like him, maybe it is his way of look mysterious or powerful. What is sure is, as annoying as it is, it freaking works. But each time he smirks with his eyes lost in the bottom of his glass in a little huff instead of speaking, I get closer to losing it and smashing his pretty face on the table.

“I told him” she says almost coldly. “Like you did all your friends, Abe is my boyfriend, Dean.”

I nod. What can I say, she’s right after all. She’s always right…

She was right about that cop being the bad guy the first time we hunted together, right about the fact that my so-called bond with Amara would fade the second she gets whatever she wanted. She was right about Jack being a good kid but dangerous enough to need to be watched and educated instead of pushed away. Right about Mary hurting me more than I admitted…

She was right when she said I was wrong. The day I told her we shouldn’t sleep together again, that she should just ignore that thing between us and jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but me…

I really say that : any of them. I did.

Did you choose Abe just to annoy me, baby ? To prove a point ? You had to bring a guy who would beat me at my own grumpy-loner-badass-crap-drink-too-much game, right ?

“That place sounds sure awesome, because Y/n keeps coming back to it” he states, not letting me know the true meaning he puts in that sentence, his piercing blue eyes free of any emotions on the surface.

“Well it’s home for her” I say, and that bastard chuckles. “Is it funny ?”

“Not at all !” he says with a warm and kind laugh, and a friendly tap on my shoulder. “You should relax Dean, you look like the bar is full of demons !”

I stay stern, I know I should probably look friendly, but I rarely hated someone nice that much.

He gets up and kisses her head before he walks away, his manly way to move catching women’s attention, and some men’s too. One of his hand goes through his blond hair while he walks to the bathroom with the other hand deep in his jeans’ pocket.

“So… Abe, huh ?” I ask, the second he’s gone.

I should be more coherent, I know. I want her gone, but I want her for me. I was sure I was ready to see her with someone else, it’s been three years. Three years ! After we only made love six times. She is not mine, she never was.

And I thought calling her Baby in my head would make me strong. It’s a weird feeling, like I could let her be happy, but still feel special. I would have been the passion of her youth, the one that died young and of which she would think a little when she rocks her baby in her pretty house…

I had somehow romanticized my heartbreak.

But that doesn’t feel romantic at all. And all I can think of is that he is passion too, I’m not dead, and I just have to see him touch her and imagine them at night…

“Yes” she says, still with that bitterness in her voice. “You could make an effort, Dean. He has been nothing but nice, and you act like he’s an enemy.”

“I haven’t decided if he is one yet.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval.

I recognize hurt. My Y/n, when she’s hurt, she gets angry. Always. And I made her angry so often. Her irritation is growing, I can see it in her burning eyes.

“You can’t do that” she says low. “You can’t treat him like that, no one gives you the right.”

“And him ?” I dare asking, staring at her reddened face. “Does he treat you right ?”

Her eyes fills with tears again and her jaw clenches.

“Better than you did, you mean ?” her words feel like a stab in my heart.

Reader’s POV

I didn’t want to say that, it came out by itself.

I’m thin-skinned lately. I feel like I could cry or scream any moment, all the time. My emotions have always been loud, my sensibility overwhelming, but for a few weeks I’m drowning.

The fact that I decided to try to get over Dean Winchester probably caused that.

A long time ago, I thought living with Dean without ever having him would be the worst, then I saw him with other women and was convinced I was mistaking before : the worst was definitely that. How wrong was I ?

The worst is having had him. Not once, but several times, each time a little more intimate. More kisses, more touches, more suspended seconds watching in each other’s eyes… Until we spent that night together, that last night, and he fell asleep against me for the first time.

It was over. It was too much for Dean, and not enough for me.

Dean Winchester can’t belong to anyone, not again. He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend, and he doesn’t want me to be his girl ; who am I to insist ?

“Well, that’s a minimum” he answers in a soft groan after a little while, and my heart breaks because I just did what I swore I would never do : Reproach him for any of it.

“I’m sorry” I sigh, thinking of those weeks after the last night, when I had to hide the worst pain I ever felt because I didn’t want him to feel bad about not wanting me.

I still do... -feel that pain and try to hide- because Abe or not, I still live with Dean and he doesn’t deserve to carry my pain on top of the world on his shoulders.

“Can you at least try ?” I beg, low, seeing my boyfriend getting out of the restroom but stopping next to the door to talk to someone he obviously knows.

“Yes” Dean answers. “I’m just… He’s a hunter and…”

“He’s a good man” I assure him, looking at Abe walking toward us above Dean’s shoulder. “He comes from a dark place, like us, but he is a good man.”

September 21, 08:12pm

“That place is crazy !” Abe says, sitting at the table of the library. “I have never seen anything like this.”

While Sam tells him a little more about the bunker, I look at my boyfriend.

I stare at him, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable impression, that feeling screaming that he doesn’t belong here ; because if he doesn’t belong in the bunker, then he probably just has nothing to do in my life.

A lot of memories cross my mind, like it happens a lot lately.

The memory of entering the bunker for the first time and deeply knowing that, as long as I am welcome here, this would be my home. Because it just feels right and because, even if I’m not the granddaughter of Henri Winchester, he trusted me with this place, as much as he trusted his family. That man actually welcomed me like Mary never really did, like I was just as legit as blood.

At his frank smile, the memory of meeting Abe crosses me too. I was alone in this hunter bar, trying to get information for a case. I hadn’t told Sam and Dean that I would go there, because I know how much uncomfortable the hunter community makes them. And I was introduced to him : Abraham Hale. I found him so beautiful, with his mischievous smile that seemed to mock the entire world, his wheat blond hair and his tattoos. Something felt so safe about him, not because he looked like a bad boy, but because he was light and happy, laughing at everything and taking nothing seriously… All that Dean wasn’t.

I loved his wild energy right away. Abe was like the drums in a rock song, like summer wind. In his arms, I forgot about Dean for a few seconds a day during the first weeks. We spent days sleeping and having sex behind the curtains of that motel room, hiding from summer heat, and nights drinking and listen to rock music...

But now I look at him, his bright blue eyes seem pale next to the deep green looking back, and his beauty is bland.

“Thank you for showing me your home, Treasure” he says, putting a tender hand on my back like he always does.

And my eyes cross Dean’s.

I know what he’s thinking, he’s cringing at the nickname, and that reminds me why I am with Abe : Dean never gave me a nickname, he never called me anything else than my name, he will never and even when others do, he thinks it’s lame and cheesy.

Dean’s POV

That hurt on her face again.

Baby, you can’t look at me like that each time he calls you Treasure . I don’t like it, but you’re supposed to do.

This is much harder than I thought, and I was aware it would be impossible.

Each and every one of his actions makes me face my own contradictions : The more loving he is, the more I want to push him away from her. But the more she seems distant and to have her head in the clouds, the more it eases the pain. Am I selfish enough to hate her happiness even though I love her ?

I was in control, during those three years not touching her, my heart was aching with craving and my soul was screaming at me to make her love me. But as much as the heartbreak was constant, I had chosen it. I was in control.

I never realize that it was only bearable because she was still here, my partner, my best friend, my roommate. Mine.

Now she took it back. She raised her middle finger right in my face and decided she wouldn’t be mine anymore.

And that is a whole new level of pain.

I don’t sleep when she’s not home, and sometimes food just won’t let me eat it. She texts during our movie nights and wears that pendant he gave her. I hate that pendant because it reminds me I never gave her a present. Not once in all those years.

“Another drink ?” Y/n asks him with the bottle in her hand.

“Don’t you drive ?” I cut him before he answers and I see her eyes shoot me with imaginary bullets.

I’m sorry Baby but it’s movie night tonight, can’t he just leave already ?

“He’s right” she says giving me a little hope that she will ask him to leave soon. “You should stay for the night.”

My breathing gets stuck in my lungs.

No Baby, don’t do that to me. Please.

“With pleasure !” he smiles.

September 21, 11:49pm

Reader’s Pov

He grabs my thigh to lift it a little and grunt in my ear. His kisses are hot on my neck, his heavy body moving cautiously on top of me.

My eyes are on the ceiling, my hands on his sweaty muscular back and I wait.

Damn, what is happening ? He’s close, I am going to fake it ? I swore I would never fake, I swore if the guy can’t get me there, he should know, but… Abe is not the problem, I am.

I just watch the ceiling wondering what is wrong with me. He did everything right, nice foreplays and those love words he always has for me. But nothing seems to turn me on anymore, and without the need and the pleasure, his thrusts are just uncomfortable and I feel weird.

Come already.

I sigh. I know what is making this impossible. Dean. This fucker is the last I had in my own bed, the only one in fact. And everything reminds me that Abe is not Dean fucking Winchester !

“You okay Treasure ?” he pants in my ear, nibbling at it.

I’m not a freaking snack, what is it with his mouth and teeth always ?

“Yes” I fake a moan. “I’m close Abe, come.”

Just don’t be loud, that would be so awkward.

When he loses rhythm, I close my eyes at the relief, it won’t be long now, make it stop. He shakes a little and grunt loud, filling the condom inside of me ; and, to make my fake moans credible, I clench my walls around him one time or two, rolling my eyes at his proud groan.

Sex with Abe used to be so much more than this. I'm getting frustrated. Did I break something in me ? Why can't I enjoy anything anymore ?

He rolls on my side, panting, and smiles tenderly at me. He’s beautiful, I have to admit that, and he’s nice and loving.

“You’re amazing” he hums. “I guess I can’t smoke in your bedroom ?”

“I don’t mind” I answer sincerely. “The air co is magical, just, don’t smoke more than one.”

He sits on the bed to get his pants, his beautiful tattooed back on me. The smoke flies in pretty wreath. I put my hand on the lion tattooed on his back. It suits him, with his solar attitude and his confidence, his beautiful blond hair…

Yet I keep longing for my wolf.

Dean’s Pov

Now I know I could kill him. And now I know what the limit amount of pain I can take is.

I pace my room like a crazy man. He is taking her, my Baby. He is sinking inside of her and stealing pleasure. Does she wrap her legs around him like she always did with me ? To push me deeper. Is she as responsive ? As lost in pleasure as she was ? With that way only she has too beg for more with her entire body, voice strangled and arms caging me the best she can…

Is she…

“F-fuck…” I whine, holding my heart.

I think I just felt it break.

Baby…

Breathing is painful now, I feel like I’m drowning.

Baby… Why did you have to do that to me ? I know I hurt you but your revenge is unbearable.

I sit on my bed, still holding my chest.

I can’t take it, you know.

“Shit” I grunt.

How can this kind of familiar panic attack be back ? How can this hurt so much ? It’s not Hell, it’s not Purgatory…

“It is Hell” I say out loud.

Loosing you, Baby. It’s Hell. Do you love him ? Because…

“Fuck, I love her” I whine.

September 28, 06:05pm

Sitting in my “Fortress of Deanitude”, I wait. The tray with snacks is there, beers too, and Netflix is ready for our next episode of Stanger Things.

But there is a big chance she won’t come. Our movie nights are getting rarer and rarer, like our time together in general. And this place is slowly becoming a Fortress of Solitude…

You never know how much you need something until you lost it, right ? I was stupid enough to think I could be stronger than the need for her and now look at me, alone in that big empty room in a bigger emptier bunker.

All I can think of is how much each day pulls her closer to him and further from me. They are building memories in which I’m not, they are building an intimacy that I lost three years ago. She will forget me and he will have her, maybe even make her change a little, until one day she is among those people who talk about their personal tastes by saying “we”. “We prefer red wine”.

Ew.

Is he going to change my girl, for real ? Make her love Led Zeppelin a little less, make her a little less her, make her want other things, another life, need me less ? Our things will become unimportant and be replaced by all kind of other things I have no idea about.

I take a long sip of my glass. It’s not like I had my word to say anyway. I lost her. I lost her in the worst way possible : willingly.

But just when I’m about to get up and go put the snacks away, she opens the door, panting a little, like she had ran.

“Dean” she says entering the room. “I’m sorry. There was an accident on the road and the traffic was disturbed.”

You were at his place, Baby, and you ran to me ?

A little smile lights up my face when her presence revive my heart.

“It’s okay” I say.

“I’m late, but I have…” she takes her hand out of her purse. “Giant skittles !”

“You found them ?” I smile, sitting straighter when she hands me a bag.

Our things are not all gone. And she still cares about me and about our time together.

“Yup ! I made Abe stop in every shop yesterday.”

So you think of me when you’re with him, Baby ? Have you ever thought of me while he was inside of you ?

“Sit” I pat the armchair next to mine. “Let’s find out if Dusty’s girlfriend exists !”

“I really hope !” she exclaims, taking off her jacket.

I try not to look at her, but when she quickly takes off her jeans to slip in her pajamas pants, I swallow hard. Those thighs could have been for me, and I could have watched the show while holding her.

She sits with her knees up against her chest in the big chair next to me, and takes a beer. My eyes are glued to her, looking for anything unusual, and fearing it more than anything in the same time.

“What ?” she calls me out of my thoughts.

“Nothing, I…” have no idea how to finish this sentence.

“I’m still okay you know ?” she says without looking at me, playing with the label of her beer bottle. “You always stare at me like something had happened to me. I know what you think of Abraham, but he doesn’t treat me bad.”

Reader’s Pov

“I’m sorry” he sighs. “You know how protective I can get. Especially with you…”

A chuckle escapes me and I know he doesn’t like it, but protective with me ? He broke my heart. He ripped it and threw it on the floor because I had said those words.

“Yeah…” I nod, nibbling at my lip. “You won’t find bruises on me.”

He doesn’t answer.

When did we become like this ?

After a silence, he hands me candies and presses play. But, chewing on sugar and my eyes on the screen, I keep my full attention on him.

I have everything any girl would want : A lover with hot blood, beauty and a heart of gold. But I'm not any girl, and the only thing I want is Dean Winchester. The genius who thinks he's dumb, the scared little boy who lost his mom, the leader, the victim of his fate, the killer, the loyal friend, the rebel, the torturer, the perfect brother, the wary hunter, the crappy dancer ; grumpy Dean, childish Dean, stubborn Dean, all of Dean...

I look at him and my eyes travel down his neck, his beard is fighting to grow back there but I know he won't let it. The slow movements of his chest are mesmerizing. My eyes go down, to his thighs and crotch...

I really shouldn't let myself look there but his smell and aura are like a mermaid song and I'm drowning. His strength is radiating of him and I feel myself respond to it in everyone of my heartbeats.

He could make me scream. He always did, so easily. Dean made me cry of pleasure more than once, sometimes without any effort, the brushes of his fingers, the burning of his kisses... And when he finally buried himself inside of me, it was like a firework in Heaven. He never had to do anything really special...

And now I wonder : Is something broken about me ? Abe is passionate and loving, we used to work great, he was easy as whiskey. And he loves me. Why am I unable to enjoy any of it lately ?

My eyes trace the bump in Dean’s pants and I remember the simple ecstasy of feeling his cock twitch for me. Dean... I bite my lip to hold back the moan hanging on my tongue. His thigh moves a little, strong muscles hidden in his jeans, and I think of his stomach contracting that time he came on my tongue. I…

“I see you” his deep serious voice hits the air like thunder.

I look up to meet his eyes and realize I have been staring at his crotch, licking my lips and probably visibly holding back moans.

“Do you need something ?” he asks with a proud aura on his face.

I want to punch that expression off of his perfect features.

I look down and sigh. Yes, I do. I need him, not only want like I would like to think, but need indeed. I need him to feel my body, to make it alive, and to hear my soul breathe again.

“Dean…” I just say.

Like it was an answer or reproach but of course, he hears it for what it is.

A call.

So he gets up, suddenly so tall that he eclipses the TV, the light and my will. He comes in front of me, standing there, making me look up timidly through my lashes. His strong hand lands cautiously on my cheek, gently holding my face while I lean on his touch.

I can resist him. I can.

I think of Abe's sweet smile, of his deep voice and his arms around me. I think of this night he told me about jail and I tried all I could to make him feel safe again, that was a beautiful moment... We are something beautiful Abe and me. We are going to make it right, to make it count. Right ?

As my heart fights itself, playing all the love songs I know at once in my head in a deafening dim of emotions, my eyes fill with tears. I know what is going to happen, and the cruel god writing my story can stop there, the end is already obvious.

I can't resist Dean. I just can't.

And Abe will cry, right ? He trusts me. He will take his bag and yell maybe, the sun inside of him will get clouded, he will drive away. Then I will let my body slide on the door frame, unable to hold my weight up, because I will have broken the only man that ever truly loved me.

I look down to hide the pain from Dean, but he knows me better.

"I can leave" he says.

But it's the last thing I want because I miss him, I miss him like a part of me died years ago and I still feel empty and cold... I miss him when I'm alone, and even more when I'm not.

When he's about to move, take a step back to leave me alone, I grab his belt and hold him in place firmly. I have no plan, no solid thought, but I know I can't be away from him for now. He smells both like the most familiar home and the wildest dream.

My other hand grazes the fabric of his jeans on his thigh, I close my eyes for a second and a little whimper escapes me. I started touching Dean less than a day after meeting him, and it seems I can't be around him without having my hands on his body.

He hums, staring down at me, bow legs slightly parted like he needed balance, like he was gripping the floor for both of us. Dean had always been my anchor. His shoulders look wider from down here and I want nothing more than letting my hands grab his butt to rub my cheek on his crotch like a cat marking its territory.

"Touch me like you need it, Baby" he murmurs and a little sob escapes me unexpectedly.

He never ever called me Baby.

He never gave me any nickname like he never gave me the place I thought I could take in his heart. And Abe, he calls me Treasure. He welcomed me in his heart...

"What's wrong ?" Dean asks like he didn't know.

Dean Winchester is the world's greatest hero, saved basically everyone's life without any reward, and for this he is a saint ; and still, he's the one that is going to be the end of me. Hero or not, he's my villain.

"Everything is wrong, Dean" I answer in a broken voice. "Everything."

He squats in front of me and my hand panics at losing my grip on his belt so it grasps his flannel like my life depends on it.

"Not everything" he whispers, bending to let his poisonous lips graze my skin.

My treacherous mouth opens in reflex at the proximity of his, making him respond by biting my lower lip. I whimper again and pull him closer.

"I got you" he states, letting his burning lips trace down my chin and my neck followed by his thumb, scratching my skin with his short nail. And I catch fire.

I let my head falls back and I surrender totally.

That's how bad he is for me : I could let him break my heart again without an hesitation, after it took me years to recover just enough to just function. And oh, I will. I will shatter the heart of the man that trusts me just to let Dean selfishly remind me how much I love him.

His breath is burning my skin, spreading in the fabric of my t-shirt when he buries his face on my chest, opening his mouth wide to pretend to bite my breast, hand cupping my sides like he had missed me for real. I let go of the plaid fabric to grip the short strand of his hair like I can.

"Dean..." the moan I have been holding comes out, filling the room with sin and the echo of future lies.

"I got you" he repeats.

His hungry hands seize my jeans and tear it open, fighting the metallic button's resistance brutally. The fabric hurts my lower back in a last resistance but is ripped off of me the second after, taking my panties in its way.

And before I can sit straighter now that I'm on the edge of the chair, before I can talk, think or breath. Dean's anaconda arms grab my thighs firmly and his burning breath is on my folds.

"Wh-" I start but what can I say now.

He kisses my folds like no men ever did : like he was in love with that part of me. An open mouth kiss, tongue eagerly lapping my juice from my entrance to my clit.

"AH !" I scream, arching my back but Dean doesn't take a second to breathe, burying his face on me.

I squirm, licking my lips like I was kissing him back but the place he is devouring can only respond with throbs and getting soaked, which is does.

I'm panting, I'm being eaten by the flames of that indescribable pleasure that is back. My stomach is shaking, my temples are beating so loud. I suck a breath when he sucks at my clit, moist hand gripping the leather of the chair.

"Dean" I moan again in the subdued light of the warm room.

He answers with a hum, and his nimble tongue pushes at my entrance, making my thighs shake violently in the vise grip of his arms.

I can't escape what Dean does to me so I let go.

My whole body falls backward when I come, harder than I have in years, holding his hair so tight it might hurt him, legs shaken by electricity, back arching and chest fighting itself to breath. My sensible clit seems to have nerves in my whole body and I fall silent, covered in sweat, suffocated by a forbidden crushing orgasm.

I whimper desperately, limp and lost, panting in the chair like I didn't realize yet what just hit me. But Dean knows what he's doing, he knows where this goes.

He opens his jeans, I can feel it even though I don't see him, my head still back, moaning at the caresses of his tongue on my neck. I bite my lip hard, hand moving from the arm of the chair to his, to feel his eagerness.

And he grabs my thighs harshly, making me fall on the floor with him and holds my back when I can't, keeping me against him.

"So wrong..." I whisper in a dying echo of my disgrace.

His hand grasps my face firmly and makes me look at him. His eyes have this fire in them, he clenches his jaw when I roll my lips a little, wetting his craved cock on me, dying of being finally filled by him.

"Keep your eyes on me" he groans, grabbing his length to guide it at my throbbing entrance.

"Dean..." I moan, fingers reaching his stomach under his clothes to feel it tremble.

"Eyes on me baby" he repeats low.

Dean's Pov

She can't think of him. Not now. I need her with me, I need her for me.

Feel me, baby.

I smile slightly when she dives her unfocused pupils in my eyes. She's perfect and I love her ; but I must say when she seems to surrender so completely to my touch, that's when forgot why I asked her to stay away.

When I enter her, her phone lights up once again in her back, on the floor. I groan loud as she wraps me like only she can, like she was trying to suck me inside her core. She's shaking, she's fighting to keep her eyes on me and I'm fighting that urge to grab her phone and shatter it in a million pieces against the wall.

She gasps, her body threatening to fall back so I hold her.

That's it baby, stay with me, feel me, let me take you like I used to when you were mine.

My hand fists her hair and my mouth gets attracted to her pulse point so I bend to suck at it, barely thrusting for now, just enjoying to be inside of her, feeling her pulsating with desire, the concrete hard floor digging in my knees.

Her arms wrap around me, she cling to me and I try to ignore my jealousy shouting at me.

Baby, you try to ignore me but can he do that to you ? Can he turn you into a purring cat like that ?

"Dean" she moans, clenching around me, her thighs trying to get herself even closer so she takes me impossibly deeper.

"Say you want me" I murmur against her skin in a voice I barely recognize.

"I want you" she gives in, exhaling in my ear.

Behind her, her phone lights up one more time with a text : "I found us a case in California, Treasure."

=> PART 2

FEEDBACK IS GOLD

Tags : @parinarain @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @stormchasingchick32 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @lyss-dw79 @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs @deanwanddamons @jawritter @peridottea91 @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart @vicmc624 @teresa-67 @jessie-michael @doctor-hp-mcu @hawkerz12 @mariaenchanted @hobby27

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neon-vocalist · 2 years

Text

day 12: holiday shopping: fetch

Originally written November 24, 2021

In Karen's opinion, Christmas is wildly overrated. Wow, big tree that makes a mess in the entire house. How nice, a bunch of overused music that they probably play in Hell. The birth of baby Jesus... awesome.

The fact that Gretchen doesn't celebrate it either just fuels her annoyance. It's like every store and radio station just assumes everyone's Christian. Last year, they tried to compromise and celebrate both Hanukkah and Christmas. However, after Gretchen's menorah almost burned down Karen's tree and the entire house, they put a stop to that.

Karen's not really that interested in Christmas, anyway. However, Hanukkah? That's something she can get behind. This holiday season, she's made a point to try and learn all about it. And today, she's hopefully gonna surprise Gretchen.

Their main task today is simple: presents. They're heading to the mall to get presents for each other, Regina, Cady, and Janis. They were never the type to do the whole surprise gift wrap thing. It's better to get something they know they'll like- it's just as meaningful, just minus the suspense and 'hint hint's.

The first stop is See's Candy, both for the samples and for Cady, who has an unnerving obsession with white chocolate. See's doesn't have a box of white chocolates, so they're going to have to customize one, which means they're going for the divide and conquer approach; Karen will make the box while Gretchen rounds up sugar for them.

There's not much of a choice when it comes to white chocolate, so Karen goes for three of each of the white chocolate options, of which there are five, some caramels, and then fills in the gaps with caramel or marshmallow filled candies.

After the candy has been paid for and both Gretchen and Karen each have a chocolate bar for themselves, they head off to buy Janis some books at Barnes and Noble. However, they're deterred when they pass a Build-A-Bear.

"Can we go in? Can we please?" asks Karen.

"You are like a five year old," Gretchen sighs, but she's smiling. "Come on."

"Yay!"

Thankfully, there are no little children in the store to witness their shenanigans, although neither girl would really care if there were. "Do you want to get them for ourselves or for each other?"

"Ooh!" Karen ponders this new idea. "I say we do it for each other."

Gretchen smiles and gives Karen a little kiss on the cheek and they select their stuffies. For Gretchen, Karen selects a white bunny with dark brown eyes and a pink nose. For Karen, Gretchen picks up a pastel rainbow bunny. They both grin when seeing what the other has chosen for them.

"They can be sisters!" Karen says excitedly, hugging her unstuffed animal to her chest. Gretchen chuckles and does the same, leading Karen to the stuff machine thing.

"Alright," says a bored-looking employee who probably sees teenagers like this every day. "Jump up and down... spin around... give the heart a kiss... and press it into the bear. Mia? Sew this up?"

"Yep." A girl with hair dyed green takes the bear and sews up the back before passing it to Karen, who gives it to Gretchen to do her own heart.

"Same deal," says the teenage boy. "Jump, spin, kiss the heart, there you go." He takes the bear from her and tosses it to Mia, who sews it up and tosses it back.

"Do you guys want sounds or outfits?"

Gretchen glances at Karen, who just shrugs. "Nah, we're good," she replies.

"Cool with me," Mia says, gesturing across the room to the computers. "Name them there, we'll give you your certificates when you pay."

"Okay!" Karen takes Gretchen's hand and pulls her to the computers. "What are you naming it?"

"You name it."

"Ooh, okay. Don't look." Under belongs to, she puts Gretchen "its just a baby spidey" Wieners, in a callback to an event that does not need repeating. She pauses for a second before putting Mr. Soda Pop The Benevolent Third Sir of the Flannel Wagging Left Bundleflundle Pumpkin Shellios the Popsicle Cat Kittle (lol shoutout to my friend geist for that one) under full name. "Your turn!"

Gretchen kisses Karen on the head as they switch out of the chair and one of the employees scoffs in disgust. "Another cute couple."

"Hush up, Maximilian, you're just jealous."

"You hush up, Evangeline." The annoyed employee glances at Gretchen, who's trying not to laugh as she types cupcake into the name of the bunny followed by dearest care bear <3 into the owner's name. Maximilian pouts off to the back room as Evangeline rings them up.

"Sorry about him, he's annoying," she says. "28 dollars total."

"I'll pay," Gretchen says, laying a hand over Karen's. "Here." She passes the girl a 20 and a 10. "Keep the two."

They make an agreement to look at the names at home and, bears in hand, start going back towards Barnes and Noble. Gretchen plans on buying Janis a book about famous artists, and Karen's heard her mention the Mindwar trilogy a few times. Once they get into the store, they split up in search of their respective novels.

"Meet me by the Starbucks in 10?"

"Sure."

Gretchen finds what she wants relatively quickly, she simply goes to the non fiction section and looks until she finds a title mentioning Michelangelo. She walks down that shelf before picking up Art Through the Ages, a decently thick hardcover that should keep Janis occupied for a while.

Karen, however, searches for the series for ten minutes before finally getting around to asking a clerk, who lets her know that they don't have it. "Okay!" Karen replies, always the agreeable one, and wanders back toward the sci-fi section. Maybe she can't find Mindwar, but something? Seeing her struggles, the kind clerk approaches her.

"How's this?" She holds out Fahrenheit 451. "A classic."

"Oh. Sure!" Not knowing anything about the book she's been given, Karen takes it gratefully. "Janis will love it."

"Good." The clerk smiles at her and wanders off to help someone else. Still slightly confused, Karen goes to pay and meets Gretchen by the Starbucks.

"Did you find Mindwar?" Gretchen asks.

"Nah. Got this instead. Ever heard of it?"

"No."

"Me neither. Come on, let's get Regina's gift and then- uhh- yeah. Let's get Regina's gift."

Their plan for Regina is simple, just some candles. That girl loves scented candles more than almost anything. She has a collection of over two hundred. It's become a problem, but hey, it makes getting her gifts plenty easy.

Getting Regina's gifts is probably the easiest. Walk in, grab two candles, walk out. It doesn't matter to her what scent it is. Gretchen and Karen each pick up a three-wick candle- Gretchen gets lavender and Karen grabs a lemon one, a fine combination.

"That was a pretty quick trip, yeah?" Gretchen asks, grabbing Karen's hand. "We ready to go?"

"Actually, no," Karen says. "I was thinking we could get a menorah?"

Gretchen absolutely lights up. She knows Karen's never been that into the whole religion thing. She was completely prepared to celebrate a modified version with herself and her family. But sharing this with her girlfriend? Best holiday gift she could ever ask for.

"You mean it?"

"Yeah. I've seen how happy playing the- uh, the spinny thing makes you, and lighting the candles, and talking with your family. I want to learn about it so I can celebrate with you! I want you to teach me."

"You're serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!"

"Karen!" Gretchen gives Karen a quick yet fierce hug. "Thank you. I'm gonna teach you all there is to know about Hanukkah. I can't wait."

"Me neither, babe." Karen takes Gretchen's hand and lets her lead her through the mall, pointing things out and chattering excitedly, smiling in admiration as she watches. "I love you."

"Love you too. You're the best."

"Can't argue with that," Karen says, lying her head on Gretchen's shoulder. "Given how smart you are."

"Aww," Gretchen says with a tiny blush. "C'mon. Let's go get us a menorah."

#fetch #fetchen #gretchen weiners #karen smith #mean girls #mean girls the musical #system scribbles #seven.content #xmas #christmas #fanfic #fanfiction #that again seems like not enough tags #because you tag too fucking much #-monika #well jesus sorry moni #day 12

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diyunho · 5 years

Text

The Joker x Reader -”On Cloud Nine”

The Clown Prince of Crime died protecting his girlfriend and now The Afterlife Assessment Bureau doesn’t know what to do with him: although J’s actions didn’t change the outcome, it scored major points in his chart and they have to recalculate the final score. Until that happens, The Joker was allowed to wait on the Lower Clouds right below The Higher Clouds where the woman he tried to save is spending eternity.

“Hey lady!” you hear as you watch the beautiful blue skies from your fluffy cloud. ”Hey!”

Y/N looks towards the source of the noise only to notice this strange man with green locks waving at her from the cloud below.

“Yes?”

“Where are we?” the guy asks, having a hard time processing what’s happening to him.

The two don’t recognize each other: once you’re dead, you’ll have no memory of your past; they definitely don’t recall being together while they were alive.

“Not sure, but it’s beautiful,” you sigh and he huffs, annoyed.

“Ugh, it’s boring. Nothing to do besides sitting down and analyze… whatever the hell this is!” J flares his arms around as a voice coming from everywhere echoes in the stillness:

“Please mind your language, sir!”

“Who said that?!” The Joker tries to find the person that just admonished him and there’s no other soul besides the woman he’s having a conversation with.

“I don’t know,” you lift your shoulder up, intrigued. “Kind of weird,” you dangle your feet above the abyss, totally unconcerned about the invisible presence. “What is that?” you point at the sketchbook he’s holding.

“My drawings,” The King of Gotham sulks, restarting to doodle on the almost blank page.

“Can I see?” you curiously inquire.

J bites the pencil and frees his hands, then shows you his current masterpiece.

“Could you hold it higher?” you squint your eyes. “Higher!!”

The expression on your face demonstrates you can’t perceive too much.

“Why don’t you come over?” the man proposes and your stalling makes him snicker: “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”

“Hmmm…” you debate on the offer not because you’re afraid of a little jump but because you’re uncertain it’s worth the trouble.

“C’mon!” The Joker wants to get up and help yet Y/N is already hopping down on his cloud: she’s always been independent, one of the qualities he secretly liked about her before they both unexpectedly kicked the bucket. “Nice landing!” J chuckles as you take a sit by him, the artist reprising his work. “What do you think?” he proudly boasts.

You glimpse at the clumsy lines depicting an apparent landscape filled with pumpkins and can’t hold in a smile.

“I think there’s a lot of potential hidden behind the primitive naivety of this little gem,” you give him your honest judgement and J scoffs, intrigued.

“Primitive?!”

“I like your style,” you sweetly reply since you realize you shouldn’t have blurred out the comment; he might be offended by your genuine critique. “The pumpkins are super cute,” you add in order to divert his attention.

“I like pumpkins,” The Joker growls.

“Me too,” you continue. “That would be an adorable nickname for someone, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” he shakes his head and mentions: “Why are you staring at me? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“They’re silver,” you bring your face closer to his, puzzled to discern the detail.

“Are they?!” The King touches his mouth, appalled.

“Yes, but it suits you,” the sincere tone calms down his frantic movement.

“Am I ugly?!” his ego emerges even beyond the grave and Y/N has the perfect answer:

“No, you’re handsome in a sort of eerie way.”

J frowns, suspicious.

“So I look creepy?!”

“You don’t look creepy to me,” you candidly emphasize. “In my humble opinion, you’re attractive.”

He straightens his back, pleased at the statement and your rosy cheeks give him a boost of confidence.

“Are you going to ...e-hem…” you cough, flustered at the stupid confession, “…draw another pumpkin over here?” your finger taps on the corner of the paper.

“Might as well,” J agrees and you have no clue that what he’s doing is basically thanks to you.

God knows how much you encouraged his practically nonexistent skills just to keep him away from problems he created for himself and others! You were actually his number one fan and to be honest his only fan: as long as The Clown Prince of Crime was immersed in his unique hobby, it meant Gotham and its citizens were safe.

The Penthouse was filled with The Joker’s phenomenal paintings and sketches, extravagantly framed by yours truly to overcompensate the lack of substantial talent.

“Ma’am, please return to your cloud!” the voice you heard earlier resonates all around once more.

“Why?” you glare left and right, annoyed you can’t see anybody.

“You belong on The Higher Clouds,” the elusive response doesn’t enlighten the mystery. “Hold on, we’re sending our representative over!”

After a few seconds Y/N and the former King distinguish an individual dressed in a black suit carefully jumping from cloud to cloud, steadily approaching his objective.

“Apologies for the delay,” he addresses the stunned couple once in The Joker’s space. “Sir, we had to compile a lot of paperwork for you,” the guy flips pages of a thick file, annoyed. “After adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing your points, turned out your final score is still a negative number.”

“Huh?!” J puckers his lips, confused.

“It seems you were a very bad person, sir; did a lot of despicable things and dying while protecting the girl you loved doesn’t mean diddly squat in the end!”

“Awww,” you gush at the revelation. “That’s so romantic,” you whisper and the man bends over, completely overwhelmed:

“Ma’am, allow me the honor of shaking your hand,” the agent grabs your fingers, softly squeezing them. “You are a true legend and we are forever indebted to your greatness: you put up with him and saved numerous lives also,” he gestures towards The Joker and you gasp, finally understanding the bigger picture.

“He died…for me?!”

“I died for her?!” the awkward pair asks in the same time.

“Yeah, no big deal. You were killed anyway and I’m so, so sorry for that,” the emissary extends his regrets to the woman he admires, entirely disregarding The Joker’s sacrifice.

“No big deal??!!” the latest shouts. “Dying for someone is no big deal?! How the fuck am I still in the negative?!!”

“Language!!!!!!” the omnipresent voice surfaces again.

“WHO.IS.THAT?!” Y/N gets vexed at the multiple invisible interruptions.

“Steve Rogers,” the representative notifies. “He’s in charge of The Profanity Control Department.”

“Who?!” J crinkles his nose, fed up with the messy situation.

“It’s not important,” the agent cuts him off. “What’s important sir is that you can’t be here; we have to move you.”

“Move me?! Where?”

“Yes, where are you taking him?” you quiz the black suited guardian.

“Far away, unless…”

“Unless what?” J crabbily interrogates.

“Unless someone is willing to transfer their points to you, sir. It hasn’t been done in centuries though; lots of bureaucracy involved and frankly, if I may: why would anybody donate their hard earned credits to you??!!”

The Clown is scandalized at the brutal affirmation while Y/N has a magnificent idea:

“How many points do I have?”

“Mmmmm…,” the man flips more pages and finds the information: “Ten gazillions.”

“How many does he need?”

“Three gazillions.”

“Oh,” you cheerfully clap your hands. “I have plenty so I’ll donate my credits to him.”

“Nah, you don’t want to do that,” the man shrieks, already unhappy with the perspective of putting in overtime for this project. “We’re out of clouds; we’ll have to make more and that takes forever.”

“There are plenty of empty clouds around!” The Joker barks.

“Not empty. They are inhabited by others but you can’t see them: you can only see the people you are connected with, true love type of deal,” the emissary indifferently blurs out.

“So…that’s why I can only see him and he can only see me?!” Y/N’s burning, red face matches J’s stellar entitled smirk after the astonishing revelation.

“Precisely,” the flat tone prompts The King’s logical question:

“Then why can’t I stay on this cloud?”

“The Lower Clouds are similar to a waiting room; we can’t have them occupied for long periods of time.”

“I’ll share my cloud with him!” you firmly suggest as the emissary is panicking:

“That means more paperwork!! We usually don’t have two residents spending eternity on the same cloud.”

“Make it happen!” J commands. “The lady wants to give me her points and share her cloud. You can’t say no, you said it yourself: she’s a legend!” he preys on the guy’s hesitation.

“I would really appreciate your help,” your disarming smile gives the guardian a nudge in the proper direction.

“Of…of course ma’am,” he stutters because how can one say no to a legend?!

And you surely count on it.

“I have to stipulate a reason for all this, what should I write on the formulary? In a simple sentence, it needs to be specific and concise: why are you gifting him credits and share your personal area?”

Your brain slots are hollow yet there’s one motive:

“I like his drawings.”

The impeccable suit ogles J’s silly scribbling, muttering under his breath:

“Another Picasso…” then louder:

“I’ll do the paperwork; for now, please vacate the premises and go on the Upper Cloud; we have new arrivals that require the Lower Clouds,” he exhales and starts leaping away, leaving you and The Joker behind.

Your cloud descends so you both can step on it and then floats higher in the air again.

Y/N gazes at the stranger in silence, until he breaks the shell:

“Thank you for your generosity, Miss…” J sniffles, realizing an important detail is absent from the whole dialogue. “What’s your name?”

“…I don’t know…” you regretfully answer. “I can’t remember…”

The Joker scratches his chin with a brilliant solution on the horizon:

“You said Pumpkin would be an adorable moniker for someone. Do you mind if I call you Pumpkin?”

“No, not at all,” you gladly accept his proposition. “And you’re welcome, I had so many credits, might as well use them. I have to thank you too for dying for me, Mister… What’s your name?”

“Bits me; I can’t recollect.”

Y/N pouts, upset she doesn’t have a name when a genius recommendation escapes her lips:

“You know… you have this small “J” letter tattoo under your left eye…” you gently poke it and he feels a sudden warmth taking over his body. “Is it ok if I call you J?”

“U-hum,” the hypnotized King gazes at the woman in front of him. “So I have tattoos on my face?”

“Yes, a few: a tiny star and a big one on your forehead that spells ‘Damaged’. And playing cards on your neck…” you describe his ink, mesmerized.

“Do they make me look horrible?”

“You don’t look horrible to me,” you praise and J inflates his chest at the declaration; oh boy, you definitely have a way with words.

“Thank you Pumpkin,” the flirtatious Clown winks and you play with the hem of your shirt, about to burst out with delight.

“You’re welcome… J.”

“Oh my God!” The Joker snaps out of it since the artist in him is begging for attention: “The sunset’s gorgeous! I have to sketch this!”

He sits down on the cloud and you scoot over until your thighs touch, interested in his new project.

“Your cloud is a better quality than the one I was on,” he bounces on the white, velvety texture. “It will certainly improve my technique!”

“Absolutely!” you enthusiastically exclaim, determined to assist no matter what.

Heaven knows your new friend J evidently requires steady guidance regarding his hobby: he’s no Picasso yet, but with a legend’s help he might eventually get there.

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That said, like all theme parks, the time and money to visit is a big investment. You know it’s going to be a full day and night excursion. There will be crowds, long lines, fussy children and over-priced everything. Take some control back into your hands and turn your day at one of the most popular theme parks in California into a seamless good time with our nifty list of tips on how to navigate Universal Studios Hollywoods like a pro. Trust us, a little preparation and planning will go a long way!

Ticket options and tips

1. Avoid busy ticket lines by ordering tickets online in advance. Prices are usually cheaper online ranging from $99 to $129 for general admission.

2. Unsure what day you’ll be going to the park? Purchase Anytime Admission tickets online for some flexibility. This ticket allows you to visit on any date of your choosing.

3. Online ticket purchases will also give you Early Park Admission to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Early Park Admission begins one hour before the park opens and is subject to availability. Visit the park calendar to see future availability.

4. Get the Universal Express Pass. It gives you front of the line access to all attractions and shows which cuts your wait time by more than half. This is especially important during busy times like the weekend or holidays. Prices run $169 and up depending on the day. If the price difference from GA is negligible to you (and it’s not to everyone), then we strongly recommend the Express Pass.

5. Children two years old or younger enter the park for free without a ticket. But keep in mind that there are height requirements for a number of rides.

6. There’s a Universal Studios Hollywood VIP Experience package where you get valet parking, a personal guided tour of the park, unlimited priority access to rides and shows, breakfast in a private VIP lounge, backlot access to sound stages, prop warehouse, and other restricted areas, plus a gourmet all-you-can-eat lunch at the Moulin Rouge dining room. There is limited availability for this package and you must book in advance. Children under 5 are not allowed for this offer. Currently prices range $349 and up depending on the day.

7. Going with a big squad? The park offers group discounts for 10 people or more. Call 1-800-959-9688 for more information and to reserve tickets.

8. Do not buy tickets from third party resellers. Buying directly from the park ensures that ticket are valid and authentic.

Best time to go

9. If it can be helped, avoid days where children are out of school like a holiday or the weekend.

10. The busiest seasons are the summer with spring in second and fall and winter being the least congested.

11. Check the Universal Studios Hollywood calendar to see which celebrities might be in the area. EXTRA is usually filmed at the Globe Fountain found at the front of the park entrance and The Voice is film on the studio grounds. Celebrity sightings during the famous tram ride are possible as well.

Photo Credit: Christina Champlin / We Like L.A.

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Park Tips

12. Go early in order to beat the heat and crowds in the warmer seasons. Early park guests all year round get the whole experience of Universal Studios Hollywood without the massive crowds that tend to enter the park later in the day.

13. Head to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter first. It’s located at the front of the theme park and that area can become extremely crowded later in the day.

14. The park is divided into an Upper and Lower Lot. The Lower Lot (the smaller of the two) is usually less busy but it also have two of the most exciting rides; Transformers: The Ride 3-D and Revenge of The Mummy The Ride with a third, Jurassic World set to open in 2019. Keep in mind that depending where you start from the walk from Upper to Lower may take you 10 to 15 minutes. Try to build out your day so you’re not shuttling back and forth from one lot to the other, as this can be tiring and takes up valuable time.

15. The Universal Studios Hollywood app is a helpful guide to the park right in your phone. The app helps guest find upcoming shows, estimate ride wait times, locate restaurants and shops, as well as small performances like the Triwizard Spirit Rally performances and character meet and greets.

16. The park offers free WiFi. Use it to visit the wait times webpage here while visiting the park. Or download the app.

17. All the excitement of a theme park will leave you dehydrated. Bring an empty water bottle into the park and fill it up at water fountains inside the park. This is also a great tip to avoid being over charged for water at concession stands.

18. Going to the park with non-english speakers? Studio Tours are offered in both Spanish and Mandarin every day. Visit Guest Relations for tour times.

Photo Credit: Christina Champlin / We Like L.A.

Rides & Show Tips

19. Single Riders Line is a great option for those who don’t care if they split up from their group. It’s the fastest way to get on a ride. The following has single rider options: Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, Flight of the Hippogriff, Revenge of the Mummy – The Ride and Transformers: The Ride 3D.

20. The park offers a “child switch” program. If a child in your party cannot ride an attraction, one or two adults can wait with the child in the attraction’s Child Switch room. When the rest of your party returns, they simply switch with those who were waiting with the child, without having to wait in line again. Inquire with a park team member at the entrance of an attraction and they will assist you.

21. Ollivanders Wand Shop does not accept an express pass. It is longest in the morning when kids and adults are buying their wand for the day. Wands are able to perform magical spells at most of the Harry Potter world store front windows.

22. The Wizarding World is AWESOME. You’ll be transported into the magical world the minute you step in. Explore the many shops of Hogsmeade, throw back a couple Butterbeers and get yourself a wand at Ollivanders. This is a good place to splurge a little if you’re a die hard Potter fan. There are two rides at the Wizarding World. Harry Potter and the thrilling Forbidden Journey is located inside of Hogwarts castle. You’ll see the great hall, the Sorting Hat, Hogwarts Portraits and more. The ride is a little scary so beware. On the other end, the family friendley outdoor coaster Flight of the Hippogriff will have you riding on a Hippogriff (Hagrid’s magical pet) around a pumpkin patch.

23. The Studio Tour is now action packed! Guests will be taken around the studio lower lot where some of the most iconic movies have been filmed like JAWS and Psycho. Fairly new is a ride along with the cast of Fast & The Furious the hyper-realistic journey with loads of special effects, 3D-HD, 4-D all projected onto the world’s most expansive 360-degree screens will transport you into a crazy car chase adventure. But wait… there’s more. You also get to experience a very intense King Kong 360-3D experience created by Peter Jackson. Considered to be the worlds largest 3-D experience, guests will be caught in the middle of a heart pounding fight to the death between King Kong and a 35-foot T-Rex. Keep your belongs close to you on both 3-D experiences, you’ll be rocking side to side a lot on both rides. Head to the tour when your legs begin to tire and you need a period of rest (but still want a little excitement!).

24. WaterWorld is still one of the most popular shows in the park. Run time is 20 minutes. Head over to the show when you need a break from walking or standing. Do not sit in the splash zones unless you want to get seriously wet. The show’s cast members are not shy about dumping buckets of water on guests. You’ve been warned.

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25. Revenge of The Mummy: The Ride is located in the lower lot of the park. Be prepared to go up to 45mph into virtual darkness with ancient horrors lurking at every turn. All riders must place their items in the free lockers located next to the ride entrance.

26. Transformers: The Ride 3-D located in the lower lot is one another popular ride in the park. Spot Optimus and Bubble Bee outside giving a heroic speech, a great spot for photo opps before entering into the world of Autobots vs. Decepticons where you’ll be tasked to protect the Allspark.

27. The old Jurassic Park ride closed on September 3, 2018. The park plans update the ride as Jurassic World in 2019.

28. Bring a swimsuit for the little ones. There’s a Wet Zone area called Super Silly Fun Lands, with over 80 water play features near the Despicable Me attraction. A perfect cool down option in the summer time.

29. Night Time Lights at Hogwarts Castle is a dazzling light show using the castle as the backdrop. Available during summer. If you can’t make it then, don’t worry the light show returns every year. There’s also a holiday edition in the winter time too.

30. The annual Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights starts in mid September and runs through the first week of November. See some of the most iconic monsters come to life during this popular Halloween series. You’ll experience spine chilling mazes usually themed from the latest Universal horror flick, live shows, scare zones and the Terror Tram experience where the studio tour tram ride takes a very dark turn. Be prepared to take a stroll off the tram during Halloween Horror Nights. This year the Terror Tram theme is Hollywood Harry’s Dreadtime Storiez based on the 1950’s demented clown infamous for terrorizing the Universal Studios backlot. Additional 2018 attractions include Stranger Things, Trick ‘r Treat, The First Purge maze, Halloween 4 maze and much more.

31. Christmas in The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is truly a special occasion. Expect Hogsmeade to be decorated in Christmas decor, holiday themed food, drinks, snowfall and The Magic of Christmas at Hogwarts Castle a dazzling projection show that wraps around the castle. “Christmas in The Wizarding World of Harry Potter” will take place daily from November 17, 2018 through January 6, 2019.

32. For 2018, the holidays will see the return of “Grinchmas” an annual event featuring a 60-foot tall “Grinchmas” tree and performances by Martha May Who-vier and the Who-liday Singers. “Grinchmas” will take place weekends on December 1-2 and 8-9, and daily from December 14 through December 30, 2018.

33. New Year’s Eve at Universal Studios Hollywood will host multiple party areas with music, dancing, drinks, special souvenirs and a midnight countdown celebration with fireworks.

34. Lunar New Year is also a fun time to go to the them park. Meet characters like Po and Tigress from Kung Fu Panda, Illumination’s Minions in traditional Chinese attire and a Mandarin-speaking Megatron from TRANSFORMERS. For 2019 you’ll also see a Dragon Warriors Kung Fu training show, Mr. Ping’s Noodle Shop, live themed performances and more.

35. For the most up to date list of all rides and attractions, checkout the USH official site.

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Photo Credit: Universal Studios

Dining

37. Three Broomsticks in Wizarding World is set up as the rustic tavern where Harry Potter first took a sip of Butterbeer. You can do the same and feast on Hogwarts approved British fare. The menu includes Bangers & Mash, Shepherd’s Pie, Fish & Chips and Beef Sunday Roast. If you have four people with you, consider “The Great Feast” a tray bursting with ribs, roasted chicken, corn on the cob, roasted potatoes and steamed vegetables.

38. If you’re a Harry Potter fan you have to get a taste of Butterbeer. It comes frozen, hot, cold on ice and taste like cream soda and caramel. The frozen Butterbeer is the best one in our opinion. Skip the long lines at the kiosks and go inside Hogs Head Pub. There you can also order the exclusive Hog’s Head Brew or Pumpkin Juice, Gillywater (aka bottled water), wine, spirits, cocktails and a selection of beers.

39. Springfield U.S.A. carries one of the most immersive food options in the park showcasing eateries, bars and items from the show.

Guests can dine on Krusty-certified meat sandwiches at Krusty Burger like the Sideshow Bob Foot Long, Clogger Burger, Ribwich and the classic Krusty Burger.

Moe’s Tavern is the perfect watering hole to score some real Duff beer and even a Flaming Moe. While you’re there, snap a picture with some of the bars most valued customers like Barney Gumble!

There’s a Duff Brewery Beer garden and located next to it is Bumblebee Man’s Taco Truck.

Lard Lad Donuts is where Homer’s favorite iced pink donuts with sprinkles can be found. In the park they are giant, making it fun for sharing and having a photo moment with.

Suds McDuffs Hot Dogs carries memorable items from the show like Krusty’s Non-Kosher Hot Dog Kombo, Marge’s Twisted Pretzel, Ralph Wiggum’s Choo-Choo Churro and Buzz Cola.

Hankering for some fried chicken? Head to Cletus’ Chicken Shack for a Chicken and Waffle sandwich, Chicken Platters and something called Chicken Thumbs.

Luigi’s Pizza offers hot and fresh pizza by the slice and an entire pie.

Phineas Q. Butterfat’s Ice Cream shop will have you indulging on Ice Cream Swirl ‘n’ Hurl, Ice Cream Conans, Brain Freezin’ D’oh-Nut Sundaes and more.

40. To maximize your time you are allowed to bring your food into Universal’s Animal Actors and WaterWorld shows.

41. CityWalk also has many food options such as Voodoo Doughnut, Karl Strauss, and Margaritaville.

42. You can go in and out of the park. Lines for food will be less extreme at the sit down options at City Walk. Don’t forget to get your hand stamped and hold onto your ticket.

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Source: http://www.welikela.com/tips-visit-universal-studios-hollywood/

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innuendostudios · 7 years

Video

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A video essay about the difficulties of defining concepts like “art” and what it even means to ask what “art” is, with a detour into plant taxonomies. You can support this and all my other work by pledging to my Patreon.

Transcript below the cut.

This is a tomato. (Are you with me so far?)

A tomato is a fruit, by which I mean it is the seed-bearing part of a fruiting plant. I know that sounds redundant and if you ask a botanist they’ll give you a much more complicated answer, but, for our purposes that’s the definition of a fruit. It’s the plant-part that has seeds in it and has evolved to be enticing to eat, so that animals will take it and then drop, spit, or crap the seeds somewhere and grow a new tree, bush, vine, whatever. That’s what fruits do, and that’s what tomatoes do, so as far as botany is concerned, a tomato is a fruit. And so are avocados, pumpkins, and peppers.

But we as human beings who eat fruit aren’t so concerned with the life-cycle of fruiting plants, what matters to us is usually “what does it taste like?”; “how do I cook with it?”; “what does it pair with?” And since many of the fruits we consume are sweet and are often used to make up desserts, while tomatoes are savory and tend to make up part of the body of an actual meal, we tend to think of them as vegetables. And, for our day-to-day lives, as people who just want something to put on our fettuccine, these culinary definitions of “fruit” and “vegetable” are more useful, more practical, than the botanical ones, especially when the botanical definition of “vegetable” is actually nonexistent.

So, in terms of usage, a tomato has two definitions, botanical and culinary: a description of what it, scientifically, is, and one of what it, culturally, means.

But what a tomato means depends on who you’re talking to. Whether a tomato feels like a vegetable will vary from person to person, from culture to culture, from era to era. Some folks will hold a tomato in his hand and eat it, slice by slice, like an apple. So if, to me, a tomato is a fruit, that doesn’t mean it has to be one to you. But if, to you, it’s a vegetable, you shouldn’t argue that position with a botanist.

Botanically, there is no question as to whether a tomato is a fruit, because, unless something new has been discovered about plant biology, the definition is rigid. It is built on science and consensus. There is nothing to debate.

Culinarily, there is no question as to whether a tomato is a vegetable, because whether it tastes like a fruit or a vegetable is entirely subjective. No one opinion is any righter than any other. So there’s nothing to debate.

And when some snotty 14-year-old says over dinner, “A tomato is a fruit, actually,” they are creating a debate where none was necessary. It’s possible you didn’t know a tomato is, scientifically speaking, a fruit, but it’s just as possible you did know, and the kid knows you know, and you’re within your rights to say, “Stop arguing across definitions, kid. You’re being an ding-dong.”

It’s important to recognize that both these definitions matter for different reasons, and we avoid trouble so long as we know, when we talk about tomatoes, which context we are speaking in.

Now maybe you’ve figured this out already, but this is not a tomato. It’s a metaphor.

We often find ourselves having these dinner table “debates” that are almost arguments and don’t need to be either when we discuss words that are more meaningful and more abstract than “tomato.” Words like “game,” as in, “Is Proteus really a game?” Words like “indie,” as in, “Is Saddle Creek really an indie label?” And, of course, one of the biggest three-letter words in English: “art.”

When speaking about science fiction, author Damon Knight’s frequently-paraphrased definition of the genre is (and I am myself paraphrasing now): “Science fiction is what we point to when we say ‘science fiction.’” Meaning: If I tell you, “I’m reading this great sci-fi novel,” and you say, “Sci-fi? You mean like Star Trek?” and I say, “Yeah. Sci-fi, like Star Trek,” we can proceed to talk about the novel without confusion. We don’t need to know what makes it science fiction to know that it is science fiction, we just need to know that Star Trek is sci-fi, and this is like Star Trek, so, by substitution, this is science fiction.

And this is how we operate with much of culture; we don’t often have definitions, we have points of reference. But if we have widespread agreement about what those points of reference are, and if we have a pretty good understanding of what the experience of those points of reference is, we can talk about huge swaths of human endeavor without needing things to be defined. It’s only when someone offers up a thing that doesn’t feel like it belongs that we run into conflict.

When someone offers up for discussion a work of art that does not feel to you that it should be called “art.” Then we have the “what is art?” argument.

Throughout the history of modern art, we have pretty much never stopped having this argument. Whether it’s today with “Are video games art?” or, before that, “Is performance art art?” and “Is abstract painting painting?” and “Is free verse poetry poetry?” Someone says, “Leaves of Grass doesn’t rhyme, but it’s poetry because it feels like poetry.” Someone else says, “But it doesn’t feel like poetry, it feels like grandiose prose where someone kept hitting the carriage return at random points in the sentence.” And the only way to articulate why something does or does not feel like art is to give language to what has, until now, simply been a set of gut feelings we thought everyone agreed on.

These are the fumbling conversations in which people offer up their own culinary definitions and each insist that theirs is the botanical one, generally assuming that they are authorities on the subject.

So you might ask me: what, then, is the botanical definition of art? Are there any authorities who can provide us with rigid, peer-reviewed classifications for what is and is not art, like astronomers determine what is and is not a planet? Anyone at the table who can put “what it is” to rest so we can speak freely about what it means to us?

Well… no, but kind of.

Look, definitions comes in a few flavors. Some are quite rigid: a prime number is just fundamentally different from other numbers. A number is either divisible only by itself and one, or it isn’t. They are an innate feature of the universe, and, upon discovering them, the definition was self-evident. We got that one for free.

On the other hand, the definition of, say, “planet” is not innate. A planet is a planet simply because we say so. We look at the natural world and we divide its contents into categories because it helps us understand what we’re looking at. And while there is a logic to this, it is also always, to some degree or another, arbitrary. Pluto stopped being a planet because, the more we understood about the solar system, the more thinking of Pluto as a planet made shit weird, so we changed how we thought about it.

Now, if a prime number is a natural thing with a natural meaning, and a planet is a natural thing with a cultural meaning, art is a third flavor: it is a cultural thing with a cultural meaning. By which I mean: the definition of “art” is a human invention, and so is art itself. When we started calling it a dwarf planet, Pluto did not change - it’s the same lumpy space rock it ever was. But if the definition of art changes over time - and it has - then the art changes also. When we think about art differently, we start making it differently. So trying to define it is like trying to hit a moving target from the back of a moving horse.

This softness on both ends means the “science” of our scientific definition for art is not going to be the hard science we think of astronomy and mathematics as being, but a social science, like anthropology or linguistics. Art doesn’t come with a user’s manual, all we can do is look at the way it is made, and the way it is talked about, and try to spot the patterns. This doesn’t mean there are no governing principles, just that they are a bit harder to pin down.

Many people in the art world have offered up workable definitions of “art,” and some are pretty defensible, but if you’re looking for a universally-accepted definition of what makes art art, I don’t think one exists. But there are some generally accepted qualities of art that anyone who works in art history, art curation, or art theory is going to be familiar with. We may not know what the definition is, but we have determined some things about it.

For example, (and, yes, I’m bringing this up) take Roger Ebert’s proclamation that video games are not art, an argument that was (seemingly unbeknownst to him) very, very old. See, Ebert didn’t just say video games aren’t art, he said they are not and can never be art. And that’s not just a bad argument, it’s an argument that has been bad for almost a hundred years. Around the time that a dude named Duchamp signed a fake name on a urinal and called that art, we had a conversation about what is and isn’t art. We had it over dinner tables and we had it in publications. And the opinion that won out, and became foundational for the following century of modern art, is that, while not everything humans can do is art, there is nothing humans do that can’t be art given the proper context. That’s how a blank canvas or a soup can or fifty thousand nickels with matches stuck to them can end up in a museum alongside Rembrandt and Hokusai. None of us, individually, have to call them art, if calling them art doesn’t make them meaningful to us, but it’s worth acknowledging that much of the work we do find meaningful would not exist without the art world’s accepted belief that nothing can’t be art.

I’ve noticed that when someone says, “This is not art,” whatever the “this” is, it is usually something the speaker either dismisses or something they care about a great deal, but they don’t seem very invested in the “art.” Because they often make these kinds of arguments, ones that would be a lot harder to make had they ever taken an Art History class, or even just typed “art” into Wikipedia. It seems a lot of people don’t view art as a practice associated with a sizable body of theory, they see it as a label, a status symbol, and they don’t want to see that status applied in places that don’t feel appropriate to them.

These conversations have been going for centuries. It’s always fascinating to me when someone at the dinner table starts one from scratch, and figures they’ll have it sorted out before dessert.

Now, I’m not saying that we should leave the art discussions to the experts; I don’t do the appeal to authority. It’s not like you have to be a botanist to talk about plants; but it is somewhat foolish to argue about botany when one doesn’t actually care about botany. If one doesn’t actually care what the definition of vegetable is, they just like telling folks a tomato isn’t one.

I think the discussion of what art is and the discussion of what a given work means to us are both incredibly valuable, so long as we remember that they are two different conversations. And since I would hope no one actually wants such a discussion to spiral into an argument, I think it’s most important to reflect, when we begin to speak, on which discussion we’re trying to have. When we talk tomatoes, are we talking about biology? Or are we talking about taste?

Then we can have the conversation we presumably set out to have, which is rarely “is this art?” but rather “is this good?”

So that’s why you might hear me compare this or that debate about art to a debate about tomatoes. That’s the metaphor. Everybody follow? Cool. Because I fucking hate tomatoes.

#video essay #art

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dollprose0-blog · 5 years

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42 Essential Tips for Visiting Universal Studios Hollywood