#I'm just really missing them a whole lot extra tonight

[azrielbrainrot]

Maybe We Could Be The Start of Something

Pairing: Band member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there.

Word Count: 3294

Warnings: none

Notes: I had this idea after seeing this art and couldn't stop thinking about it. I actually had a lot of ideas for little stories in this universe but it makes sense to start with how they met. Also I know that's a terrible band name but I never had to name a band before okay. I didn't proofread this because I think I'd delete the whole thing if I did, sorry. This is really self-indulgent but I hope you like it!

Band AU masterlist

You could only blame yourself for agreeing to meet Viviane. Your skull felt like it was going to split open with this headache that has lasted all week. The only thing you wanted to do right now was try to sleep it off under your warm blankets, but instead you willingly came to a bar knowing it was just going to make it worse.

She's been telling you about this place and the bands that perform here occasionally for ages. Apparently it's a real hotspot for up and coming musicians ever since two bands made it big after starting out here. You've been turning her down for weeks so you had promised her that you'd finally come this friday, of course when you agreed you couldn't have known your week was going to be absolute shit. Though most of your days have been shit lately. That might be the actual reason Viv has been so insistent about you going out with her, she knew your mental health was ready to take a vacation and was just being a good friend.

This really hadn't been a good day to come though. Aside from your headache, your last class had also run late, making you lose your bus and barely have time to drop everything off at home and change to come meet your friends. As a little treat you also couldn't find your nice black skirt so you had to just wear jeans, you definitely needed the extra confidence the pretty skirt provided but the universe didn't seem to care about that.

The bar was already packed by the time you got there, you were almost being pushed around while you were searching for your friends. You look down at your phone to ask them where they are and see a text from Viv asking if you're still coming. Reading it makes you stop in your tracks. You can't really blame her for thinking you wouldn't show up since you've been declining every invitation lately, but seeing that she thought you wouldn't even give her a heads up hurt a little. You knew you had been distant lately but you were trying your best to deal with life and you never meant to do it at the expense of your friendships.

You're pushed out of your thoughts when someone taps your shoulder gently, making you look back at them. Turning your head you were faced with a muscular chest, slowly looking up a tattooed neck to meet beautiful hazel eyes staring back at yours.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he says, breaking eye contact for a second before continuing, “but I think you dropped this.” He raises his hand so you can see him holding your keys. Your house keys, the ones you would undoubtedly only notice were missing when you went back home and tried to open the door. That would have been the cherry on the cake after this whole day. Maybe you should see a witch to make sure it's not actually a curse, no one should experience this much bad luck.

“Thank you so much,” you almost yell as you grab them from his hand in excitement. He just saved you from having no place to sleep tonight. You notice him tensing up when your fingers brush against his hand and realize you might have made him uncomfortable. “I'm sorry,” you take a tiny step back in the crowded bar, “I would have been locked out of my apartment if you hadn't seen that. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” he said, giving you a nod and something close to a smile, before going on his way. You curse yourself again for acting so awkwardly. You hope you didn't make him feel uncomfortable, he was nice in picking up your keys and giving them back to you. He was also really cute which only made it more of a shame that you met like this. At least you didn't lose your keys, that would have seriously sucked.

Making your way to the table Viviane told you they would be at, you notice almost everyone is here. She was leaning against her boyfriend, Kallias, while they listened to whatever story Alba was telling them about. Ezio and Celia were both looking down at their phones and showing each other something while giggling like schoolgirls. As much as you love your friends, you don't know how much socializing you can handle today. You already fucked up what could have been a very simple interaction. Then again, with all of them here you know Viv won't try to ask you about Eleanor so at least you can keep avoiding hard topics. Viv greets you with a grin as soon as she sees you, everyone following right after.

“Hey, thought you weren't coming after all.” Yeah, you almost forgot about that. You smile anyway, knowing she didn't mean to remind you of how much of a bad friend you've been lately.

“Sorry, guys,” you sit down in the empty chair next to Alba before continuing, “Class ran late and then I lost my bus.”

“Oh. Bad luck.” You have no idea, Kallias. Conversation picked back up after that and you let them do most of the talking, taking a back seat and just watching them. You're glad that they either noticed you weren't in a talking mood or just didn't realize you were mostly quiet anyway.

You have no new stories to tell them since you've barely been functioning outside of school and talking about your feelings is definitely a resounding no, especially at a bar, so you just let them keep up with their conversations and just nod along every once in a while.

Eventually, the DJ introduces the band playing tonight. The Night Court. Judging by the screams and the way everyone moves closer to watch, they're very popular around here and you understand part of the reason for said popularity as soon as you see them step up on stage.

“Oh, they're really good!” Viviane's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “The guitarist is Mor's cousin. You remember her, right?” You nod. Of course you do. The blonde with sparkly eyeshadow and red lips leaves a big impression, forgetting Morrigan is probably impossible.

You study the guitarist as he introduces himself and the band. He's extremely handsome, the type of handsome that would make you think he can't be human, like some kind of fairy or vampire. You can tell he's aware of this fact with every honey dipped word that comes out of his mouth, literally flirting with the whole crowd. Despite not having many physical similarities with Mor, that allure he exudes definitely matches with hers.

The drummer was already sitting in place, looking eager to play. It takes you a second to notice he was in fact already sitting down as he's probably one of the tallest men you've ever seen in real life. But, with the messy shoulder length hair and big boyish grin on his face, he doesn't look scary at all.

As your eyes travel to the bassist, half hidden in the shadows, you wonder why you didn't recognize him immediately. It was the same guy that helped you before. You had thought he was beautiful before but, considering the situation, you didn't have much time to linger on that fact. However now that he was standing on stage, you could fully appreciate it. He was tall - this much you knew since you were at head level with his chest - and by the way his arms strained against his black t-shirt as he picked up his bass, you could tell he was fit too. He was looking down at the bass in his hands, making the few lights that caught him cast an ethereal glow on his face and on his onyx hair. This man looks like he stepped right down heaven's gates.

They start playing what you think is an original song but can't be sure since you were too distracted checking their bassist out to hear what Mor's cousin had said. He does have a really good singing voice but as your mystery angel starts singing, you can't help but feel bewitched back to watching him.

You barely take your eyes off him during the whole performance but they're all undeniably good. It's easy to understand why this bar is so popular if this is the level of talent their bands have. You can definitely imagine them making it big. They all seem very comfortable and content on stage and the crowd can't get enough of them.

You're so distracted by them that you don't even notice your head pounding anymore, or how fast time flies because, before you know it, they're saying their goodbyes to the crowd and leaving the stage.

Conversation starts back up after that, everyone is gushing about how talented and hot they are and you find yourself easily agreeing with their sentiments. But, with no distraction and the dj back playing songs you've heard a thousand times and the pressure of keeping conversation going, your headache comes back. You wait out just a little longer until you think it's an acceptable time to leave without worrying everyone too much.

“I'm sorry guys but I think I'm going to head home.” You finish the last of your drink even though it's mostly melted ice by that point and start putting your jacket on.

“Already?” You're not surprised Alba is the first to speak up. You'll never understand how this girl has so much energy, you had the same morning class as her but she's still as energetic as she was at lunchtime.

“It's still kind of early,” Viviane looks up at you with her icy eyes and you can recognize the concern in them immediately.

“It was just a busy week,” you explain with a smile on your face, hoping no one reads too much into it even though you all know that's not all. “I think I need to go sleep it off.”

“Are you going by yourself though?” Out of everyone at the table, Enzo is the worst one at hiding his emotions. You can see as clear as day that he's worried about you.

“I'll get an uber. Don't worry.” You gesture to your phone hoping they'll drop it.

“I can wait with you outside.” Kallias offers immediately, ever the responsible one. You really wanted to stay alone right now though.

“You don't have to.” You put your bag over your shoulder to add some finality to your words. “It's cold and there's going to be enough cars out at this hour, I won't be waiting for long.” It looks like he's about to say more but Viv puts a hand over his arm subtly, making him shut up. The bass of the music keeps hammering at your head so you don't linger and just say your goodbyes, waving at everyone with what you hope is a seemingly content smile, before leaving.

As soon as you step outside the pressure you feel starts slowing down. The front of the bar is still full of people so you walk a bit more to the little parking lot on this street. The air is cold but it feels amazing after being in the stuffed bar and your thoughts don't seem so overbearing when you don't have to try to act happy with your friends.

You love them to death but everything about how tonight went just proves that they've been talking about you behind your back. You know this is just them being good friends. You've been acting so differently in these last few months that even one of your professors noticed so it's only natural that they also did, but knowing everyone can tell only makes it worse.

You didn't want to make anyone worry about you. Life has just been going for your throat lately, minor inconveniences keep popping up and piling on top of what was already a pretty shitty situation. But you know once the semester ends, you'll get the chance to finally breathe and solve some of the problems you've been ignoring. And then things will hopefully get better. It just really sucks that your friendships and even school life has been affected by this.

Sitting down on top of the small wall that wrapped around the parking lot, you look up at the sky, willing your mind to let you rest for a bit. Watching the stars twinkling and your breath turn into white clouds of smoke because of the cold. You should probably get that uber and go home before any of your friends find you here, but your body doesn't want to move for some reason.

You feel someone approach you and look back down to meet familiar hazel eyes. You both stare at each other for a second longer than what would be normal, not expecting to see each other again.

“We keep running into each other,” you can hear his voice better here. You didn't notice how deep it was in the crowded bar. His singing voice is also deep but a bit softer than this.

“Yeah.” You smile. Seeing him again after how he helped you and then watching him on stage is making you a little giddy despite your somber mood. He seems a bit less unsure after you respond as well.

“Are you here alone?” He asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“No, I'm just waiting for an uber.” You hope you're not making a bad impression again. He probably hadn't seen you with your friends before either.

“Alright,” he looks over to what you assume is his car and then back to you, “I can wait here with you.”

“You don't have to. It's cold,” you start but he shakes his head before you even finish speaking, “I actually haven't called it yet.” He gives you a look of amusement and it just makes you try to explain yourself faster. “I have a headache. The cold just felt calming. I'll get it now.” Opening the app, you start searching and, just like you expected, there's a car barely 10 minutes away from you. A wave of disappointment washes over you at the thought that you won't get to talk to him for longer but you push it aside quickly, you barely know him.

“A bar probably isn't the best place to be if you have a headache,” he tilts his head slightly in what you're almost sure is concern. He's a little hard to read.

“I know but I already had told my friends I was coming so…” You shrug and change the subject, trying to allow this moment to let you forget about your earlier thoughts. “Didn't turn out too bad. There was this really good band playing today.” You can see a flush take over his cheeks and the tips of his ears and you feel incredibly proud of yourself for being the reason behind it.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he says as he dips his head slightly in thanks. You feel like this might be the best compliment you could have given him.

“You were all really good. I even forgot about my headache while I was watching you play,” you try not to sound too excited and make it weird but you want him to know how good his band is, “Do you perform here a lot?”

“Yeah,” he leans sideways against the wall next to you, “At least twice a month.” You're starting to notice that, although his face doesn't show too much emotion, his eyes are a little more expressive. His band seems to be a topic he likes talking about. You can understand why.

“Isn't that a big deal? I heard this bar is really popular nowadays, there has to be a lot of bands trying to perform here.” The blush seems to be back but it could also be because of the cold you're subjecting him to.

“We always try to do our best but we've been playing here for a long time. That helps too.”

“You know that's not it,” you point to the entrance of the bar, where some people are smoking, “The bar was packed. I don't know if that's how it always is but I'm pretty sure it was mostly people wanting to watch you perform.”

“You've never been here before?” It looks like he's getting a bit embarrassed by the praise so you let him change the subject.

You shake your head. “Need to come more often though. When are you performing again?”

“We don't always have a schedule,” he looks down at your phone in your hands then back up at you, “But I can text you the details.”

“Oh.” He wants your number. The thought makes warmth rush to your cheeks. “Alright.” You unlock your phone and hand it to him. While he's typing his number, you can't help but notice the scars on his hand. They completely cover his hands, the skin completely marred. It looks as if they were burned. You look away from them, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. He hands you your phone back and you see he saved his number under his name.

“Azriel,” you say the name out loud, tasting it in your mouth. He's watching you a little more intensely than before and you have to break eye contact to stop yourself from blushing. You quickly send him a text so he can save your number as well.

“I'll need yours too.” You give him your name and he repeats it, just as you had done. He makes it sound beautiful in his warm timbre and you can't help the flutter in your stomach. “I'll text you as soon as I find out when we're coming here next.”

“Okay.” You lock eyes and don't look away, just enjoying the moment, until you see a car pass by and realize it's yours.

You think you could have stayed there in the cold talking to him all night. You're not sure why but talking to him is effortless, it's like you've been friends for years. It just feels right and you find yourself wishing that he texts you soon with the concert information and anything else he comes up with. You wouldn't need much of an excuse to talk to him.

“That's my ride,” You say as you hop down from the wall. He looks at the car and when his eyes meet yours again you think you can see a hint of disappointment, hopefully at having to cut the moment short. “Thank you for waiting with me,” you smile at him again, “You didn't have to do that.”

“No problem.” He gives you a smile too, the biggest one you've seen on him. “I'll see you next time.”

“Of course.” You'd be an idiot to not want to see him again. You linger for as long as you can, suddenly not feeling like going home at all.

You wave at him again before getting in the car and something beats faster in your chest when he waves back and watches the car speed off down the street, it's almost like your heart is telling you to stay with him. You're not exactly sure what just happened but you hope you don't regret not staying with him for the rest of the night.

You keep thinking about him during the whole car ride and he's the last thing on your mind when you're laying down to sleep. And when he texts you the next day you know you'll have many more opportunities to spend the night talking to him.

[a-aexotic]

could you do a rafe imagine where reader is a pouge and she’s working at the country club as a server or as a bust gal and kelce says something about her but rafe secretly likes the reader and he defends her and gets pissed at his friends for talking bad about her or saying something degrading or ojectifyinfg about her and then the reader finds out rafe defended her from topper ?? Bc topper is secretly kind (apart from the fire tbh) and reader confronts rafe about why he defended her

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. sooo much fluff, degrading language towards women, a fight (kinda), out of character top/rafe, lmk if i missed anything!

summary. rafe has a crush on you and topper makes it his top priority to get you two together after you confess your feelings, too.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

You were exhausted at this time of day and you just wanted to go home and rest. Your eyes were heavy and your feet hurt from these stupid heels the club makes you wear. You had one last table before you could clock out; you could already feel the warm bath you were going to draw tonight.

Until you saw who you were serving; Kook royalty themselves. Rafe, Topper, Kelce and a few guys you don't recall the names of. You prepared yourself for the longest hour serving these boys.

You walked up to them, a big smile on your lips. If you were going to serve some snotty Kooks you might as well get a good tip. "Hey, um. I'm Y/N, and I'm your waiter for tonight. Can I get you started with any drinks?"

You handed out the menus and you could already feel their stares at your body and face, making you feel a tiny bit self conscious. In the corner of your eye you saw Kelce turn to one of the boys to whisper something and he immediately turned red before letting out a chuckle.

You saw Topper and Rafe make eye contact before Rafe rolled his eyes, making Topper sigh.

"Sure, for me, I don't know about the others though." Topper nodded politely as you smiled.

"Yeah, I'm super thirsty." One of the boys had commented as the whole table (minus Topper and Rafe) erupted in laughter. You were disgusted and honestly disappointed, I mean, how low could these jerks get?

Rafe cleared his throat and the whole table became quiet once again. "Me and Top are going to get some Old-Fashion's. I don't know about the others."

"Make that three more." Kelce added and you nodded politely, jotting it down quickly on the notepad.

"Okay, I will be right back with your drinks. Take a look at the menus, alright?" You walked away with another big smile and as you turned, it immediately dropped.

You didn't necessarily hate Kooks; well, not to the extent of JJ or Pope. You could honestly stand them; sure, they made you uncomfortably sometimes but at least at the end of it, you have a good tip.

"Take a look at those menus, more like take a look at that ass!" The boy had said and Kelce and other one let out another laugh. Rafe couldn't stand it.

The jokes weren't funny and were low blows, they were some of the worst jokes he'd heard in months. It was stupid. Rafe held in all his anger because he didn't want to cause a scene, especially here or in front of you.

He's been trying to make a move on you for months; giving extra tips, complimenting you, asking if you could help with the golf cart. And now all his hard was going down the drain because you're going to think he's shallow and idiotic because of his 'friends.'

The only person he actually liked right now was Topper and that's saying a lot. He felt bad for you as well. Rafe didn't really feel empathetic towards anyone but seeing you put on a fake smile and nod off the joke like it was nothing reminded him of someone.

"God what I would do to take her to bed." One of the boys sighed as the others agreed. Rafe bit his tongue as they continued.

"I'm sure she would," Kelce took a drink of his water. "If you tipped her enough."

"You're right, she's a Pogue. I'm sure she needs the money."

Rafe was disgusted. Is this really what they thought about? "Shut the fuck up, dude. That's not funny."

The table went quiet as the guy turned to Rafe. "What the fuck is your problem man, you've been in a bitch mood ever since we came in here. I mean, come on, it's a fucking joke."

"A joke? You call that a fucking joke?" Rafe started raising his voice. "You're the fucking joke here, dude. Who the fuck says that shit? Especially while she's literally over there."

Topper nodded. "Yeah, have some decency. Y/N's actually so sweet."

The two boys looked at each other before laughing. "Oh I see what's goin on here. You two are acting like you're all above this, above us, so she can see how gentleman-ly you are and let you tag team her, huh?"

"Not everything is about sex, dude. Maybe we actually think she's nice and a human being that deserves a little respect. She's, y'know, a living breathing human with thoughts in case you've forgot." Rafe was seeing red and he was about to throw a punch before Topper kicked his leg.

"What, dude? It's true." Rafe looked at Topper before he sighed.

"Let's just finish the drinks and then we can go, alright?" Topper was trying to calm things down and Rafe took a deep breath before nodding.

You had come back with all the drinks on a platter. You felt the shift in energy, it was a lot more tense now than it was. "Alright, have you guys figured out what you guys wanted to eat?"

You passed out the drinks.

"That would be it, can you uh, get the check please?" Rafe's voice was much softer and politer than usual and you nodded. You appreciated the manners; you don't see a lot of that in the country club.

"Okay, sure. I will be right back with the check." You smiled at him and his cheeks turned a little red as he turned away. Topper noticed this and was a little confused.

Rafe had never mentioned liking you in anyway. He was now wondering if he had just started liking you or if this was something that's been happening for a while now.

"Okay, Kelce, how much would you pay me if I went up to her and asked her out on a date?"

"Nothing, dude. You'll be getting the award, why would I have to pay?" Kelce responded, drinking a little of his drink.

Rafe flared his nostrils as he kept in his anger once again. He didn't want to blow up again, people were already staring.

"Dude, you won't do it." The other guy laughed. "You're a fuckin pussy."

"There's no way she'll say yes." Kelce added.

The other guy rolled his eyes, "How much do you wanna bet?"

Kelce laughed, "100$ easy, dude."

He laughed, "Okay, I'll be a 100$ richer."

"You're definitely going to lose that 100, man."

You came back and put the check down with a small smile. "Is that all boys?"

"Yes." Rafe quickly said, taking the check and putting his card in. The others exchanged looks. Before you could away, the boy had started to say something.

"Y/N, right?" He looked at your nametag then to your low V-cut shirt before looking back at your face. "I was wondering if you could let me take you out later this week, maybe... Saturday? I'm havin a big party, I'd just love for you to come."

Rafe was angry he felt like his eyes were going to bulge out of his eyelids as he stared daggers at the guy.

You stood there, a bit shocked. There were a few seconds before you could respond. "I would love to. But uh, I'm already dating someone."

"Really?" Topper looked confused, you'd never mentioned one. You glared down at him before smiling and nodding. Rafe felt like his world had come crashing down. You had a boyfriend?

"Yup, JJ. Two months!" You said dramatically. "Sorry... About that."

The guy looked pissed, turning away from you. "You weren't even that pretty anyway." He muttered.

Your eyes widened and immediately took that as your que to leave, walking away. "Okay.."

Rafe quickly got up after you, taking out his wallet and taking out a 20$, handing it to you.

Your eyes had widened at how much he was tipping. "Whoa, are you sure?"

"Very. My friends were douches to you and I apologize. I don't even know the other two dudes' names."

You laughed, the first real genuine laugh you've had all day. It was a like breathe of fresh air. "Me neither, but I can't take this, that's so much." You pushed away the money.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can." He put it in the pocket in your shirt before sighing. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

He walked away to the rest of his friends and you smiled at the nice gesture. Rafe, despite the opinion of your friends, was actually kinda sweet. I mean, he was sure as hell better than the rest of his friends (minus Topper).

"Dude, that took you long enough." You heard one of them groan.

"Shut up." You heard Rafe reply as you smiled to yourself. You immediately shook away the smile, sighing. Why was the Kook prince making you smile? Wow, you were in desperate need of a bath and a good meal, 8 hour shifts aren't your strong suit.

--

You were surprised and confused at Topper's words.

"Yeah, he was like, genuinely pissed. I've never seen him that mad and that's saying a lot."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, "Wait, wait. So he defended me?"

Topper looked at you like it was the most obvious thing of all. "That's what I've been saying for the last half an hour, have you been listening?"

You rolled your eyes at Topper's unnecessary sassiness, "Yes, Top, it's just been really hard to process."

"What's hard about it? Rafe has literally never had a soft spot for anyone except Wheeizie, like ever. And he's rich. He can spoil you and you're literally set for life-"

"Whoa, okay." You started laughing. "Let's not go that far. I am not marrying Rafe Cameron." ok girl...

"Okay but think about it." He smiled. "We could be like kinda related. If Sarah marries me... or if Rafe considers me a best friend, I could be like your brother-in-law."

You started laughing harder, "Sarah's not marrying you."

He didn't look too amused by that. "Okay, shut up, seriously. Rafe likes you."

The more you imagined his face and his smile, his dad outfits and the way he literally is an asshole to everyone except you, the more hot your face felt.

Topper smiled as he playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh. "He's cute."

"Cute? Don't call say that to his face, he'll get all flustered and then roll his eyes."

You already imagine his face, making you laugh a little harder. "Okay, okay. If... if I were to like him back, how would I approach him?"

Topper sighed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Okay, uh. Maybe just talk to him and flirt before he asks you out."

"That's so obvious-"

"He tipped you a 20 last night and you're worried you're making it obvious? Are you serious?"

You rolled your eyes. You reminded yourself to talk to Topper about his attitude problem later because it's getting a bit much. "Okay. Fine. I will."

--

Other than being a waitress at the country club, some days they put you on the Beverage Cart duty. It was probably because they were short in staff that day but honestly you didn't mind. You'd rather be out on the golf course then cooped up in the restaurant. You also get double the tips than you would inside.

Plus, you had a cute golf outfit on with the cute visor; you felt like a true Kook.

As you were going around, selling drinks, you saw Topper and Rafe. Of course they were going to the club today; it was nice Saturday afternoon. You face palmed yourself. You already knew what Topper was going to do.

Topper saw you as well, a smirk forming on his lips. "Rafe, uh. Remember Y/N?"

Rafe felt himself blush at the mention of you. He shook it off, nodding. "Uh, yeah. Doesn't she work here?"

"Yep. Also, I was uh, talkin to her the other day and she called you cute."

Rafe's mouth flew open as he whipped his head towards Topper. "What?"

Topper smiled. "Yeah, she called you cute. Like, really cute. She was blushing and shit."

Rafe smiled and he didn't even feel it. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, dude. And, oh! Speaking of the devil, there she is."

Rafe's eyes widened as he looked over at you and shook his head. "Oh, uh."

"I know you like her, man." Topper added as he looked to Rafe.

He shook his head. "No, I don't like her. I think she's cute."

Topper rolled his eyes. "And you blush around you, you stumble over your words, you tip her real good. You were practically on the floor kicking your feet in the air and blushing when I told you she said you were cute."

Rafe frowned at Topper's wording and before he could protest, he started pushing Rafe towards the cart. "Dude, hold on."

"Ask her out, man."

"Not now, dude, I've been plotting for months now, I can't just-"

"Dude, do you trust me?" Topper stopped and looked dead in the eyes.

"No." Rafe stated before Topper rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the fifty-th time that day.

"I don't care, now come on." He pushed Rafe towards the cart before grabbing the back of his collar, making him walk towards you. If this was any other situation, Rafe would've landed a punch to Top's jaw but he didn't wanna scare you off, so he kept his cool.

You stared the two as they approached the cart. They seemed too... normal. They were both smiling and you felt like they were plotting. You know for a fact that Topper is.

"Hey."

"Hi." They both said in union, making Rafe look back at Topper, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What can I get you two?" There was unnecessary awkwardness between the three of you as they both looked at each other.

"Two... sodas."

"Sodas?" You looked assumed. Were they 12?

Topper looked back at you. "Yes."

As you reached for the cooler, you heard Topper make an 'O' sound. You turned around.

"Oh shit. I forgot my wallet, I will be right back. Rafe, you stay here and get us the sodas, alright?"

Rafe looked back with his teeth gritted, a warning to Topper. "Topper."

He shrugged. "I'll be right back." He jogged away as you and Rafe made eye contact.

You knew that he knew what you had told Topper. And then, Rafe realized the same thing. He didn't know what Topper had told you but he just hopes it wasn't too embarrassing.

"Um. I never asked but um, what sodas do you want?"

"Ginger ale. I'm pretty Topper wants something girly like Diet Coke or something like that." Rafe mumbled the last part but you heard it. You let a horrendously loud laugh because you knew Topper would get a Diet Coke.

You suddenly felt embarrassed but it melted as you heard Rafe's small laugh as well. Butterflies filled your stomach as you heard him.

"Okay, then. One ginger ale and uh... a Diet Coke." You laughed a little after, making Rafe smile.

As you handed him the Ginger Ale, your hands touched and you felt like your face was on fire. You quickly pulled away.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe started. "Did Topper say anything about me?"

"In what way?"

"Um, I don't know... something involving you?" Rafe inquired as you smiled.

"Did he say anything to you about me?"

"Maybe." He dragged out the 'e' sound as you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

"Topper may have mentioned a few things about you. But they weren't bad. They were actually a little... admiring to hear."

He went red as he looked down at his feet. "Topper just loves to run his mouth."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He definitely loves to gossip."

He laughed at your wording. "He said some stuff about you, too. It was... admiring, too."

Your cheeks had begun to hurt from smiling this hard and it'd been only a couple minutes.

"Okay." Rafe sighed. "Are we talking about the same thing-"

"Yes, we are. I think."

Rafe was going to have to push all his pride and ego just this time. "I think that you're really pretty... and if you're not with JJ, I'd love to take you out on a date."

You had forget he heard that part. "I'm not with JJ."

"Okay, then what do you say?"

"Yes, Rafe." You smiled at him and he swore his heart did a little flip at the sound of that.

"Okay," he sounded breathless.

You then turned in your cart, looking for a piece of paper and your pen. You found one and then wrote down your number. You turned back and handed it to him. "Text me and then we can sort out the details, okay?"

"Yeah, for sure."

Topper finally walked back, wallet in hand, a big grin on his tanned face. He looked down at the paper in his hand and gave Rafe a proud pat on the back.

"Here's your Diet Coke," you held in your laugh as you gave the drink to Topper. Rafe smiled back at you as Topper opened it quickly and took a big gulp.

"Thank you. I knew you'd know my favorite drink, Y/N." He took out a 5 dollar bill and gave it to you before winking and you felt yourself cringe at Topper as you took the 5.

He and Rafe walked away and you stood there, your heart beating fast as you watched them walk away.

"What'd I say? Trust me, Rafe, I promise it'll work out and look, it worked out!"

"Yeah, for once, dude."

"Oh, shut up."

You heard their argument and laughed to yourself, getting back into your cart to drive to the next course.

[pb-dot]

His Impossible Brushstrokes Extra Content: Swimming Pools (Drank) - A Dialectic

You did indeed not read that humdinger of a title wrong. I've had some thoughts bouncing around in my head about Kendrick Lamar's song Swimming Pools (Drank) for a while, and I decided to write it out as a discussion between Oscar and Mara from my novel His Impossible Brushstrokes. It feels a bit ambitious to call it a dialectic, since I'm not sure it overcomes any contradictions as much as it takes them out, dusts them off and gives them a good long stare, but what is philosophy if not taking the inherent contradictions of existing out and dusting them off for a spell?

I should also add that I am not a Kendrick Lamar scholar as much as a decently dedicated fan, so I can make no guarantee as to how much old ground this re-threads. Full text under the cut

Late night, the bar has reached that time threshold where they have decided that providing a social environment is secondary to selling drinks and getting people shitfaced, so the lights were low and the music high. As the light, droning bassy synths of a hip hop song I recognize come on, I can’t help but laugh.

“You know,” I say to nobody in particular, the barkeepers should be able to hear me over the music, but I’m not sure they’re paying attention. All the same, it needs to be said. “I have a lot of respect for this guy,” I motion in the air as to indicate the music that’s playing. “But I think this one’s a bit of a miss. You can’t hit home run every time, you know?” The hook starts up, a litany for intoxication. “Like I see where Kendrick’s going with this, talking about the allure of alcoholism you know? But it’s all a bit too well produced in my opinion, it sounds like too good a time to be efficient in its messaging. In a way, he’s too good at creating music, so much so that it works against him in this case.”

“Oi, Minnesota! You harassing the wait staff again?” The voice behind me is sudden, inelegant from intoxication, and also very familiar to me. I turn to her.

“Ah Mara, taking a break from doing body shots off influencers tonight are we?”

“Don’t be silly, the body shots are later,” She waved the question off with the customary dexterity. My quest to get a quip past her defenses and baffle her thus continues, perhaps it will in perpetuity. “I just happened to hear my favorite art dork making some misguided points about a song I really happen to like, and so I decided to step in.” As to demonstrate, Mara did an exaggerated step over the bar stool before sitting down. She isn’t tall, but most of what nature gave her in the height department is in her legs, so she can do stuff like that.

“Oh this one?” I nod towards the air.

“The very same, love this whole album.”

“I always preferred To Pimp A Butterfly.”

“I’m not surprised. Anyway, I think you’re not grasping the full picture here.”

I cough, speaking loudly and without fetter to be heard over the thumping bass of the subject of our discussion.

“Right, so what am I missing? How is this not a song with a good message that gets diluted by the sheer mastery put into the production? Just listen to the low drone of the bass, the sharpness of the snare hits and the precision on the hi-hat drills, hell, the dreamy tingle of the synth alone makes this sound like exuberant dionysia much more than a situation you’re supposed to want to avoid.”

Mara does take this in, but I know from experience not to take it as a sign she agrees.

“I think that’s correct,” She says, the but hanging in the air like a well-phrased sword of Damocles. “But don’t you think that’s the point of it all?”

“What? That it’s inherently impossible to write a song condemning something?”

“No no, just ask Rage Against The Machine about that, or Taylor Swift I guess. No, I’m saying that the fact that it makes drinking too alluring might be the whole point.”

“Now this you’ll have to explain to me.”

“So, we know Kendrick has a family history with alcoholism, right? Granddaddy had that golden flask and whatnot.”

“Yeah, and he describes or includes his struggles in several of his songs, I’m with you so far.”

“Glad to hear it Rochester, so we know that he knows how alcoholism works, he has seen it, first hand even, a POV of the whole experience.”

“Right, where are you going with this?”

“I’m going right here: Isn’t it reasonable for a person who struggles with alcoholism to be honest when he makes a song about how alcoholism feels?”

I blinked, this was an angle I hadn’t considered, and so I took a second to do so. While I did, Mara continued her argument.

“Addiction doesn’t look like starting in the gutter you know. It starts with having a damn good time more often than not, and it’s only later you realize how it has its hooks in you. The times may still be good, especially when your familiarity with whatever you’re dependent on gives you an edge. Like at a party.”

“I suppose that does make sense yeah.”

“What can I say? I’m a sense-making machine,” Mara said with a shrug.

“Then comes the question whether such an honest portrayal serves the purpose of the song. Like does it make it a better… I don’t know, warning against the dangers of alcoholism?”

“Oh, but this presupposes something about the song that I don’t think we’ve talked about.” Mara held up a finger as to illustrate her point.

“Which is?”

“What the purpose of the song is.”

“Ah, I see” I said, casting an idle glance towards my beer glass, I had somehow made it to the bottom in the middle of our conversation, and motioned for another from the bartender. At this point they had switched music to some pop-sounding R’n’B, if it was to dissuade the discussion at the bar, they certainly hadn’t encountered me and Mara before. “That is a pretty big question,”

“A Very Big Question," Mara agreed "and also unfortunately central to our disagreement here.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, if the goal of the song is to produce an anti-alcoholism PSA, then your take on it gains considerable strength,”

“Oh yeah, and if it’s supposed to be a personal story of struggle then your take on it is spot on, I reckon.” I couldn’t help but be impressed with Mara. As far as I knew, she had no formal schooling past High School, but here she was, talking circles around me.

“The problem is, of course, that we don’t really know what the artist’s specific thoughts were when making the song.”

“I mean, yeah we don’t. I suppose we could look up some interviews or look it up on Genius or whatever, but don’t you think that lessens the work a bit?”

It was Mara’s turn to tilt her head at me. Her mouth said nothing, her eyebrows said “Go on?” and so I did.

“Kendrick did write and produce this thing to stand on its own didn’t he? It released as a single and everything, so having to look into who the artist is and what he thinks to understand it does seem a bit wrong don’t you think? He didn’t release it with a booklet of context after all.”

“I think… it’s complicated,” Mara sighed as she conceded the point. “He did put his name to it though, so I think what Is Known about the author can be considered as part of the package of understanding the work.”

“Hm, yeah, I guess, it’s not like he’s secretive about himself in his songs, so we’ll have to assume some sort of Author-As-Character at least to get any kind of grip on his discography.”

I took a sip of my beer, although the world looked a bit fuzzier now, I did feel like I had a clearer grip of the situation. “So,” I attempted to summarize it in my head before saying it, but mental acuity had left me some time ago. “This song is simultaneously a frank description of how it feels to struggle with alcoholism that succeeds beyond measure because it feels initially alluring and exciting to get into, and an attempt to communicate that the threat of getting lost in the bottle, as it were, is one you should feel mindful of, somewhat undermined by how much of a party bop it sounds like.”

“Seems like it,” Mara shrugged “I mean we seem to have run into a bit of an epistemological cul-de-sac, since the question is no longer the individual merits of the song any more.”

I down the rest of my beer. “I mean as far as resolutions to arguments go, you can do way worse than epistemological cul-de-sacs.”

“Yeah, I guess we’ll settle on both perspectives being defensible for now?”

“I mean I can’t argue with that.”

“Good… because we should probably leave.”

“How so?”

“Because everyone else has left, and the staff looks about ready to ask us to vamoose.”

The next few minutes pass in a daze as tabs are closed.

“See, this is why we should’ve gone to Monde,” I opine as we stumble into the night. “This shit never happens at Monde.”

“We always go to Monde Oscar, it’s not good for your soul.”

“Psh, we don’t always go to Monde, you just think that because you’re flighty.”

“I’m not flighty you just think that because you’re a simple creature of habit.”

“There goes our irreconcilable difference of perspective again.”

“It truly is hopeless”

“Beyond salvage”

“And yet we persist”

“Against the dying of the night!”

And thus we go into the night, carousing across the chasm of perspectives, both too stubborn and too madly enamored with the process to ever want it to change.

Taglist:

@teacupsandstarlight @jeahreading @frostedlemonwriter @owlsandwich @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

@anonymousfoz @ashirisu @mr-orion

If you would like to be on this taglist, please check out the Tag List Post

[kahluamystery97]

Satellite Chapter Two

TW: Disordered eating

Chapter Two (2018)

Martin Graves was a feared, old school Hollywood producer. While he hadn’t taken on a project in at least a decade he was still revered. His monthly garishly lavish cocktail parties were still well attended. The old guard and the new guard alike are there to network, find a job or maybe even some funding for a dream project.  Harry Styles was not part of the old guard, he didn’t need a job currently and he certainly wasn’t looking to get a project funded. So he wasn’t really sure how he got suckered into being here. He knew it involved his best friend Jeff Azoff doing a favor for his father, Irving. Jeff’s own fiancee Glenne had refused. Glenne had said, “Fuck off I’m not going for a night of being groped by a bunch of geezers.” Harry did not blame her one bit. Harry had already been groped by two saucy senior citizens tonight. 

The Graves house was untouched by time. It was opulent but in a very 1980’s way. Way too many heavy tapestries and window dressings. Lots of gold and brass. 

“Son, you really missed the good days. These broads today and the whole Me Too. You can’t do a damn thing or you get sued.” Lanny Smythe lamented. 

“No shit. Go up to any of these young actresses and pay them a compliment. Chrissakes. They will take out a full page ad in the Times crucifying you.” David Crumbe, a retired studio executive spat. 

Harry was 100% certain he did not want to have this conversation with these men. His eyes desperately searched around the room for a way out. Bingo. The gaudy mirrored, marble bar held the most beautiful sight. 

Maggie Dunne was behind the bar laughing hysterically with the bartender. They were mirroring each other with their arms up over their heads and shimmying their hips. The bartender looked down to his phone and then looked at Maggie. He excused himself and walked out the open doors to the patio. 

Harry knew this was his chance. 

"Will you excuse me?" Harry asked, shaking his empty glass at his companions as he motioned to the bar.

Maggie was pouring herself a whiskey.  She wiped down the work top in front of her and looked up when Harry put his glass down.

Maggie was most definitely drunk. She lost one contact lens and then abandoned the other so things were a little extra fuzzy around the edges but there was little doubt that the man in front of her was good looking. Curly brown hair, warm green eyes and pink pouty lips stood right out at her. His muscular shoulders and tall frame were just a bonus after that face. Where the hell did this hot young guy come from in a sea of creepy old men?

She straightened her back and smiled. "What can I get you?"

 "What's good? Do you perhaps have a specialty cocktail?" His plump pink lips turned up into a smile. 

"Of course. I'm a professional" Maggie lifted a clean glass from the back. She placed a large sphere of ice in the glass and poured a whiskey. The handsome stranger turned the wattage up on that smile and raised an eyebrow. "Wait for it. This bit makes it fancy."

Harry gestured for her to go on. He watched as she carefully placed a lime slice on the rim.

"Bloody brilliant," Harry cheered, giving her a small round of applause before picking up the drink.

Maggie clinked glasses with him before taking a sip. Harry knew who she was. I mean I guess if you had seen a movie in the last ten years you knew who Maggie Dunne was. The blonde hair, the long, lean, athletic body. The blinding bright white smile. She was stunning. They had definitely been in the same rooms, same awards shows, same after parties but they did not run in the same circles. Maggie was always seated by the other first name recognizable stars like Meryl, Julia, Reese, George, Leo and Brad. 

She had always seemed so untouchable but right now behind the bar she was so at ease. Clearly buzzed and happy. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. 

The bartender made his return by crashing in through the doors he had originally left out of. "I'm so sorry I abandoned you with the bar." He said slightly out of breath.

She smiled warmly at him and touched his forearm. “Don't worry about it. Everything ok now?"

"I think so. I hope so." He sighed. He shooed her from behind the bar and took notice of Harry. "Can I help you?"

"Your colleague helped me out." Harry said.

The bartender looked at Maggie with thanks and then back to Harry. "I hope you don't mind me saying 'Night Changes' is my forever karaoke song. Always a hit. Always reels them in."

Harry let a laugh out. "Glad I could help mate."

Maggie tried to clear the fog in her mind and place this man. A singer? A musician? A songwriter? Oh God had they met before? Fuck. This could get embarrassing. She had to get out of here. 

"I'll be back for a refill Keith. Need some fresh air." She gave a small wave and started out the doors towards a courtyard. The maybe stranger, maybe singer, maybe musician was on her heels. She shot her eyebrow up at him to ask why he was following her. 

"I realize I never got the recipe for this cocktail," He flirted, flashing a serious set of dimples her way. Harry followed her over to a spot by a small fountain and garden bench. 

The dimples and whiskey made her forget everything. Not that she knew anything before. Maggie sat back on the bench and slipped off the low heeled mules she was wearing and tucked her feet underneath herself. 

"Maggie." She offered her hand. 

"Harry." He delicately squeezed her hand. 

Maggie couldn't help but notice all the rings. "That is some serious hardware,"she nodded at his hands.

"Too much?" He cocked a brow and turned up the wattage on his smile. 

"Not at all. Better than some watch that costs as much as the house I grew up in. Men in Hollywood are really obsessed with their watches. I can’t help but think it somehow relates to their dicks." Now Harry’s eyebrows shot straight up and then he let out a belly laugh. “I mean what do I know? It isn’t a sound theory. I haven’t done any research on this.”

"Well I will keep that in mind.  Any other Hollywood cliches I should side step?"

"Influencers. Crypto currency. Blonde actresses." Maggie shrugged.

"Well I guess I'm thankful you are a blonde bartender then."

"Actually I'm retired. Keith was having boyfriend issues so I took one for the team."

"Unfortunate because you pour a damn fine drink." He raised his glass to her.

Maggie turned herself toward Harry. She was about to ask him more about himself or maybe she was just going to make a pass at him. She didn't get to do either because suddenly her phone went off. 

"Jesus." She yelped and pulled it out of the pocket of her green jumpsuit. Maggie stretched her arm out. It was her sister. She pulled the phone back away from her face and then closer. It was useless.  She looked over at Harry. "I should get the lasik. I'm a chickenshit though."

He laughed. "Can I help?"

"Mind reading this for me?"  She handed her phone to him with an embarrassed groan.

"Where the fu - um, Liza would like you to meet her out front." Harry said with his eyebrows raised as he took in the actual colorful language he edited out of the text.

Maggie laughed harder than she meant to.  "That is absolutely not what that says."

Harry took a deep breath and read aloud,  "Where the fuck did you disappear to? I wanted you to schmooze some of these old cunts. Now I’m tired and I want to go home. Out front in three minutes. DO NOT MAKE ME FIND YOU. That last bit was all in caps." He whistled. "So who is Liza?"

"Liza is my big sister. Her bark is way worse than her bite.." Harry handed Maggie the phone back. Maggie got up a little too quickly and stumbled forward. Harry caught her arm. "That last whiskey was probably a terrible idea." 

"In my experience it usually is. Why don't you let me walk you out. I mean I wouldn't want your sister to have to come looking for you."

"Very chivalrous of you. Thank you." They walked through the party and Maggie kept it moving. Just waving goodbyes, telling anyone who tried to stop them Liza was waiting. Harry was intrigued by this Liza who could seemingly inspire a twinge of fear in these Hollywood types.

Out the double front doors of the large Hollywood home stood a tall dark haired woman. Full figured, attractive. Same blue eyes as Maggie. As soon as she saw Harry she looked him up and down. Clearly unimpressed with him she did not even attempt to address him.

"Finally. I won't ask where you've been." Liza shot her sister a look. The chauffeured SUV pulled in front of them.

Maggie just shrugged. "Playing bartender and making friends."

"Well, say good night to your friend,the bartender. " Liza snapped and hopped into the back of the car.

Maggie looked at Harry and said with a smile and shrug of her shoulders, "She’s a charmer. Thanks for walking me out."

"Good night Maggie. Nice meeting you. Thanks for the drink."

She got into the car slowly so she could watch him wave her off. If she remembered any of this she was certain she was going to regret not taking him home. 

"For fucks sake Mags. The bartender?" Liza said not looking up from her phone.

"Since when are we too good to fuck a bartender?”

Liza let out a loud sigh and then a laugh. "OK I'm being a bitch. Rough day. That party was a shitty idea. Trying to sell that movie to that room full of fossils was a dumb idea. Literally a veritable who’s who of #MeToo in there."

Maggie took her sister's hand. "You work too hard."

"Says you. And seriously sorry about the bartender. You deserved some fun too. Want to go back and abduct him?" Liza asked, wiggling her eyebrows high on her forehead. 

Maggie laughed, "Nah. I'm too drunk for any of that. Also, he isn't a bartender. I think he is a singer or in a band. Something musical.  I didn't have time for all the small talk because of my raging bitch sister." Maggie gave Liza a nudge with her elbow.

"Yeah yeah. You'll get over it. Lots of pretty boys in the world. Why don't we pick one not in a band. Didn't you already do that once?"

 "Once. Twice. Who's counting?" Maggie certainly wasn't.

THE NEXT MORNING

A buzzing in the distance woke Maggie up. "Fuck." She groaned while fumbling around for her phone. She pressed the dismiss for the alarm. As soon as the alarm stopped a facetime call was buzzing in. Her hand hit the accept button quicker than she meant to. "Liza, whatever it is, has to wait another hour. I just need one hour to die and then I'll call you on my run."

Maggie found her glasses on the nightstand. She pushed the large black Prada frames up. Before she could even make out the face on the screen she heard the voice.

"So I'm not Liza." Harry said nervously in his deep British accented voice. 

Maggie ran a hand through her hair. She looked down to make sure she was clothed. Her tank top was pretty sheer but ok she was covered. 

"Uh hello. How did you get this number?"

"Well I'm a terrible person and I took it upon myself to take it when you gave me your phone last night." Harry pulled at his bottom lip nervously.

"Here you seemed so nice. I had no idea you were a creep." Maggie clicked her tongue. Maybe this was a creep move but she was drawn to that pink lip he was tugging on. Were his eyes this green last night? He might have been attractive last night while she was half blind.  Now though in the morning light with her glasses on he was distractingly good looking.

Harry panicked. Oh God did she think he was a creep? This was sort of a creep move. What possessed him to do this? Had a year with Colette taken him so far away from dating that he completely lost all game?

"Yeah I'm sorry." He stammered. "I thought you might not remember me from last night and..."

Maggie cut him off. "You read me my text messages and walked me out. I wasn't quite that drunk. Anyway I'm insanely hungover and wearing my grandpa glasses. So now all that next morning mystery is gone." Maggie teased, raising an eyebrow.

Relief. This was an asshole move but so far seemed to be paying off. Was she alluding to waking up together?  So maybe he didn't completely fuck this up?

"I was hoping maybe I could see you. Maybe I could make you a drink this time.”

"Oof a little early to talk booze. I need much water and Gatorade.  Maybe a ladylike barf after my canyon run. A shower. You get the gist."

"I could meet you for a run. " He suggested.  ‘Slow down Styles you just got demoted from creep,’ he reminded himself.

"No offense.  I run alone. I don't like to draw a lot of attention. The bartender knew you last night. So I assume someone would be happy to photograph us together."

"You didn't - know me I mean." Harry softly chuckled.

  Now it was Maggie’s turn to feel like the asshole. "I'm sorry. I'm terrible. I assume it’s music because he mentioned karaoke."

"It is. I'm Harry Styles, a singer and you are Maggie Dunne, an actor, writer and producer. A hyphenate. Impressive. " Lame Harry, fucking lame. He needed to get off this call before he could be any more of a fucking tool.

"Well it is nice to officially meet you, Harry Styles, the singer. So after I puke and shower I could be up to hang later."  Why do I keep saying puke? Shut up Maggie! Her brain screamed at her.

"I mean who could turn down a post puke hang?" He ruffled his unruly curls back and smiled. 

Maggie was briefly distracted wondering what a fist full of those curls would feel like. Would his sparse facial hair be soft or scratchy on her thighs? She snapped out of it and asked, "How about my place? We could get some take out. Not to sound too forward but it's that whole low profile thing."

Harry felt relieved actually. " Low profile is good. I'm big on low profile and discretion."

"Sweet talker." Maggie softly chuckled.

Harry laughed with her. "Oh yeah. Maybe my lawyer can call your lawyer to negotiate an NDA?."

"Ooh you filthy boy." She rolled her eyes.

Fame is a fucked up thing. No normal girl would be thrilled the hot guy they met would want to keep them under wraps. Maggie felt relief wash over her that Harry didn't seem like a fame whore thus far. No offer to take her to Craig’s and end up with a bounty on them from Backgrid. 

"So 7? I'll text you my address a little later. Like once the room stops spinning." 

"See you at 7. Lots of water and eat something greasy." He laughed.

Maggie groaned and then waved before she hung up. She laid her head back on the pillows. Harry Styles. Cute. Clearly a little awkward. Who video chats someone they just met? He was lucky he looks like sex on a stick or she would have ended that much sooner.

Maggie adjusted her glasses and opened a Google search.  She typed his name. Images first. Well good morning libido. I had nearly forgotten about you. A warm flush hit her lower body and crept up. God he was pretty. The hair. The eyes. The lips. The crazy amount of ink on those toned arms.

He was in that boy band, One Direction. She had definitely heard of them but couldn't be sure she knew any of the music.

An article mentioned he sang that song, 'Sign of the Times.' The first time she heard that song was in rush hour traffic and she burst into tears. She wasn't even 100% sure of what it was about but it gutted her. She had to reapply her mascara. I can't believe Harry is that guy. Ok no more Google. I should leave a little mystery, she thought.

Harry spent a lot of his morning doing an internet search on Maggie when he was supposed to be working. He scrolled through an embarrassing amount of photos. She was undeniably gorgeous. The sparkling blue eyes. 

She was more than a pretty face though. He read a Variety profile. She graduated from UCLA while acting full time. Her sister's Liza and Alex along with their husband's made the move to LA after Maggie’s first few films.  Movies became a family business with Liza and Alex learning a lot in a short amount of time. The three of them opened a small production company on the WB lot. In two years they needed a much larger office. They predominantly employed women. Name an interesting film, documentary or show you have seen in the last few years and chances are Three Sisters Productions had a hand in it. 

An image search of Maggie showed her in her wet suit on the beach after surfing. Lots of photos of her taken via long lens in her bathing suits. Playing volleyball. Hiking. Running. Paddleboard. Yoga. The paparazzi definitely had an obsession with catching her on the beach.

The one thing he couldn't find much of was anything on Maggie's love life. Harry wished he had been as fortunate or as smart as she had been. She had been spotted around town with guys but nothing serious. The only time she was spotted more than twice with a guy was either a co-star or about a decade ago when she had dated a pretty famous indie rocker.

While Harry was definitely interested in Maggie she unfortunately didn't have much more of a chance than being a lovely distraction. A rebound. Harry was still getting over the French underwear model, Colette who had maybe easily been his first real love and just as easily his first real heartbreak. 

Harry felt like the search was becoming a bit much.  Maybe he should leave a little mystery for later.

Just keep running Maggie. She pushed her body hard in the blazing Los Angeles sun. She could only hear her blood rushing in her ears. She looked down at her apple watch. Her time sucked. It felt like she was running in mud. Her legs worked harder. The vomit she was joking about earlier was suddenly at the back of her throat. She had been waiting for it. Maggie pulled to the right and made her way behind some vegetation. The hot grossness that had been sitting in her gut was released in a forceful torrent.

"Maggie are you ok?" A voice she didn't recognize called into her. "You are Maggie Dunne, right?"

She internally groaned because it was either a fan or paparazzi.  Either one would be very intrusive at this moment. She opened the hydroflask she had slung around her. She rinsed her mouth and then poured some water into her hand and rinsed her face.

"It is. I'm okay." She walked back out onto the trail. Maggie plastered her public smile on her face for the two middle aged women waiting for her.

"Sorry we noticed you and didn't want to bother you. Then we got worried. We're moms." The dark haired ponytailed one shrugged.

Ok so they were sweet and harmless. "Thank you, that was kind of you. One too many drinks last night combined with sun and running. I should know better." She knew better but she needed the release. It wasn't a problem if it just happened, right? She wasn’t shoving her fingers down her throat. 

The red haired lady in the visor nodded. "It happens. If you’ll be ok we’ll leave you be."

The dark haired one smiled. "Unless maybe you wouldn't mind taking a photo with us."

Maggie was sweating and stunk of whiskey vomit but she smiled the public smile even bigger, nodded her head and said,  "Let's do it." They snapped a selfie and said their goodbyes but not before the redhead tried to set Maggie up with her son. 

She continued her run but back in the direction of the car. She pulled her damp tank top off, threw it in the trunk and then pulled a fresh tank over her sports bra. Took her sneakers and socks off and slipped into some slides. Once into the car she blasted the AC, washed down two more advil with some water and clicked her stereo on. She had downloaded Harry's solo album and she was now ready to listen.  She pulled into traffic and headed to her favorite cold pressed juice spot.

Sorry for the short Chapters. Just posting as a rewrite which may bite me in the backside. Back when I wrote this story originally I had just unearthed my old journals where I detailed my ED. So that was sort of the inspiration for some of Maggie's struggles.

Next up -- Maggie and Harry 'Netflix and chill'? (My 22 year old niece would cringe so hard if she knew I just typed that.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part XII.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9  Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17  Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by​ @sic-vita​​​​​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Hello there! I'm still absolutely buzzing from yesterday's comic con trip where I got to see Tom and Mason talk about all things Sandman. I wrote a little gushy post: A Dream Come True. Please let me know your thoughts on the next part. Hope you all have a fantastic week and a Happy Halloween. All my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------

In all the time that you had been coming to your cottage in the Dreaming, you had never once left its walls. You assumed that the scenery outside was just a back drop, not something that could be interacted with.

How wrong you were.

The ground is solid as you step on to the block paved path, and the gate at the end of it has a realistic creak when you swing it open.

Morpheus follows just behind and engages the lock carefully after you both. 

You are still cringing with embarrassment as you secure the buttons on the coat that he had conjured for you on the cottage threshold. Being surveilled while performing is something you typically actively avoid, even among people you have known for many years, thus making his observation of you even more disquieting.

You dial into your surroundings to quell your self-focus. 

A rain shower is starting to clear up. Shining gems of moisture cling to the grass blades. There is petrichor in the air. Being exposed to the soothing scent, it causes you perk up like a bouquet of flowers being reintroduced to water.

Morpheus lets you lead the way and you walk in comfortable silence. 

You feel his eyes on you.

"You seem much more composed tonight. Is that a correct assertion?"

Morpheus’ voice is warm and golden honey, complimenting well with the rays of sunlight that begin to peek through the cloud cover.

Your reply is teasing at first and then sincere.

“If you exclude the little dance party incident back there, then, yes, I think that I'm really starting to turn a corner.”

He says nothing, giving you the chance to elaborate.

“I can go whole days without replaying the final conversation in my head. I don’t feel the guilt like I did… I'm actually beginning to forgive myself."

The satisfaction and pride on Morpheus’ face sends your heart soaring.

"I couldn't have got to this headspace as quickly as I have without you. Being here, in a safe space, with such awareness, it's given me extra time to process my feelings and thoughts. I know they are simple dream scenarios but they've helped no end with the healing process and I'm going to miss them being so constant when they’re gone."

"Your dreams are not simple, Y/N." He looks down at the ground. "They are beautiful, a pleasure to behold."

The compliment ties your tongue, robbing you of delivering an immediate response.

You have reached a lone tree. An established oak that casts a generous patch of shade. You both stand beneath the leafy canopy.

“You must have seen a lot of dreams in your time,” you finally say.

He hums in agreement. “I can tell a lot about a person through the simple act of looking at their subconscious."

"What do mine say about me?"

“I see your longing for exploration and stimulation. An inquisitive nature and a hunger for knowledge. You wish to experience, but not in a way where people tell you how to do it. You need a level of freedom to feel satisfaction in your efforts.”

His words ring true to an unsettling level. You retreat into yourself, never having drawn the parallel between your dream choices and how you behaved in the Waking World, particularly in more recent weeks. It was the exact reason you ended your relationship; you were unready to participate so completely in someone else’s plan.

A breeze dislodges a few leaves from the branches above your heads which pulls you back into the scene.

One of the leaves drifts into Morpheus’ unruly shock of hair.

Without thinking, your left hand comes up to pull the small object out.

He startles at the intention and flinches when you make contact with him.

“Sorry.”

He settles quickly. “It is alright.”

You drop your hand back to your side, energy soaking into your being from the slight touch. It takes up residence in your skeleton, causing warmth to surge within you. You turn away, undoing a button on your coat to cool down.

You cannot get over how soft his hair felt.

You swallow your longing before deciding to change the subject.

"I think I'm ready to have nightmares again."

Morpheus nods once. "I support your decision."

"You think I'm ready?"

“I do."

You are dizzyingly excited.

Morpheus sets out the terms in a serious tone.

“You must promise me that you will inform me immediately of anything that may threaten your stability before you enter the Dreaming.”

“Absolutely, of course.”

 “I suggest we reconvene in a week. I will let you continue exploring alone.”

“Thank you.”

He nods and takes a step backwards.

“Wait, how do I let you know if something changes?”

Morpheus’ beautiful eyes lock with yours. His tender reply is all the promise you need. “You need only call me and I will come.”

***

In the week that passes, you find yourself in two nightmares. One located in the exam hall of your secondary school and the other in a clown filled circus. They cause you to jolt awake but you are happy to find that they do not consume you.

You are eager to tell Morpheus, hopeful that he will look at you with the same pleasure as he had done when you had told him of your progress with emotional stabilisation.

Except he doesn’t show.

You had never had a specific time slot but there had been a routine where Morpheus would typically appear within a couple of minutes of you falling asleep.

You sit on the edge of the sofa seat, your focus drifting to the cottage door, hoping for a knocking noise.

A rhythm is eventually sounded out but it’s not made through rapping on wood; it is the hollow sound made through contact with glass.

A familiar glossy feathered bird is peering at you through the window.

It’s Matthew.

He caws once.

You run over and operate the handle to let him in. He flies on to the coffee table and ruffles his feathers exuberantly to shake off some raindrops.

“Hey, Y/N. Long time, no see.”

“Hi Matthew, how are you?”

“Oh, you know, still a raven. You?”

You suppress a laugh. “I'm getting there.”

“I'm happy to hear it.”

Matthew hops closer to you creating a scritch-scratching sound as he goes.

“So, Lord Morpheus sent me to pass on a message. He’s going to have to postpone.”

“Everything okay?”

“Something's come up that couldn't wait. It should be over soon though.”

You feel an onslaught of worry for Morpheus, and then push it down. He's likely one of the most powerful beings in the universe. There is no need to be concerned. Probably.

“That’s fine, I’ll see him another day,” you say with a smile. 

 You motion to the bowl of dried fruit and nuts on the table next to your carrion companion. 

“You want something to eat?” 

Matthew appraises the contents cautiously with his onyx eyes. 

“Are those raisins?” 

He sounds terrified. 

“You’re not a fan?”

“Umm, not really.” 

“That’s okay, I’ll pick them out for you.” 

You upturn the bowl and start to separate the offending items out from the rest of the mix. 

Matthew delicately picks up peanut halves while you graze absentmindedly on the rejects for a bit. 

He pauses in eating. “I heard you’re back on the nightmare list. How’s that going so far?” 

“Not too badly. I mean, there have been no nightmares in my room that I know of. Have you felt any earthquakes here?” 

“Nothing.” 

You let out a sigh of relief. 

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Matthew says suddenly. 

“Sure...” You drag out the word hesitantly. 

“What’s been going on when you and Lord Morpheus meet?” 

You are flustered, immediately thinking back to the kiss and wondering if someone saw you. 

“Nothing’s been going on.” 

“You sure? ‘Cause he’s been acting differently since you came around.”

“Different how?” You are overwhelmingly curious. 

“I dunno, happier, I guess.” 

“But we just… talk.” 

“Well, whatever it is that you talk about, keep it up. Lucienne says that after all he’s been through, it’s such a relief to see him this way.” 

The only response you can muster is: “Oh.” 

“I haven’t got as much to compare to and I’m not 100% sure what happened but apparently something really affected him.” 

Now you have no words. 

Matthew bobs his head. 

"Anyway, I should get back to the palace." 

"Okay, thank you for coming, Matthew." 

"See you around, Y/N." 

He swoops through the still open window. 

You wake up not long after with a maelstrom of thoughts. The very idea of anything upsetting Morpheus makes your heart sore beyond measure. 

“Oh, shit,” you say out loud.

You realise in that moment that you are falling for Morpheus.

--------------------------

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998 @dotieeee @ponyboys-sunsets​ @fangirlmary​ @littledollll​ @fatimakinney @jamiethenerdymonster​ @rosaren2498​ @mr-sandman-bring-me-a-dream​ @madiebear​ @sandman-33

"I was biting my tongue, I was trying to hide. I'll forget what I've done,  I will be re-defined."

[hiraeth-witch-11]

New Moon with Billy

Warnings: references to Twilight, fluff

Word Count: 600ish

“What was he thinking, dumpin’ her in the woods like that? That’s a dick move, that’s what that is.”

“It really is,” you agree with a sniffle.

“Aw, baby, are you crying already?”

“Hey, I gave you full warning and he was super mean.”

Billy just chuckles softly and continues to trace his fingers up and down your back.

“She’s gonna get herself killed for some guy 5 times her age.” Billy shakes his head in disapproval. “I really don’t get it.”

“She misses him. They had an emotionally intense relationship and she probably had trauma bonded with the whole family onesidedly and then he just leaves her with nothing to help her process it. That makes people do crazy things.”

Billy leans back to look at you. “You speakin’ from experience?”

“A bit.”

Billy frowns and gently grabs your jaw with his hand, turning your head to look him in the eye. “No one is ever worth you gettin’ hurt. You got that?”

“I know, Billy.” You did now, your teenage years and early twenties were another story. Bill had been with you for most of that, but you’d hid a lot of the shit you went through.

He seems placated by your answer, pulling your face towards his and pressing a kiss to your forehead before he tucks your head back onto his shoulder.

“Oh come on, I was rooting for the Jacob guy and he blew it too!”

You giggle a bit at his enthusiasm.

“Are you laughin’ at me now, baby?”

“Nope. Definitely not.”

“I think you’re lyin’, sweetheart.”

“I just think it’s funny that you were so opposed to starting the Twilight Saga and now you’re invested. It’s cute.”

“I am not ‘cute’,” Billy insists indignantly.

“You totally are.”

“Only when I'm with you, you dork,” Billy says affectionately.

“So I’m your best friend, right?”

“Uh uh, I ain’t fallin’ into that trap. You and Frankie can keep your competition to yourself.”

“Damn, I thought I had you for a second there.”

Billy continues to insult the intelligence of the characters in the movie, especially Edward. “He doesn’t even check to confirm everything before goin’ to off himself. Utter bullshit. He’s over a hundred years old, the man should have better common sense.”

“You can’t fix stupid,” you respond sagely.

“No you cannot,” Billy agrees.

When the movie ends, Billy is still complaining and you listen to it goodnaturedly.

“And now it looks like he’s gonna actually get her killed.”

“Eh, we’ll see,” you say. Both of you yawn simultaneously. “You wanna stay over? I can make waffles in the morning.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart.”

It’s not unusual for you and Billy to share a bed after movie night. In fact, it happens so often that you have a drawer of his stuff and an extra toothbrush at your apartment. The two of you go through your nightly routines, purposely bumping into each other and fighting for the sink in your tiny bathroom. 

When you finally climb into bed, you know you’re going to sleep well tonight. The both of you are on your sides and Billy grabs you and pulls you close until your back is flush against his chest.

“Don’t hog the blankets this time,” you warn. You don’t really need them, but you like to tease Billy any chance you can.

“I wouldn’t have to hog them if you would just stay where I put you.”

“It’s not my fault I wiggle in my sleep and I always stay by you, you just somehow, end up with all the blankets on your side.”

“‘Cause you kick them off, sweetheart.”

“I am admitting, nothing, but if that is the case, it’s because you run hotter than a frickin’ werewolf.”

“I got that reference.”

“‘M proud of you. Now go to sleep.”

“Good night, baby.”

“Night, Billy.”

Billy Russo Taglist: @snowkestrel, happydeanpotter, jvanilly

Everything Taglist: @kayhi808,

[idyat]

Sanford x Bartender reader

The room spinning around you

Summary: He was a regular at your bar. Naturally, you became good "friends".

WARNINGS: Alcohol, mentions of corpses and smoking

--------------------------------------------------

It was yet another ordinary night at the bar. Clients rushing in after a good day of murder and destruction. It seems like alcohol is one of the few things nevadeans wanted to leave intact. You couldn't blame them, it was one way to forget about one's shitty life, despite destroying their body in the process.

But there's no time to dwell on thoughts! This is the busy hours! So get to work!

And you did. Serving up all the toxic beverages needed until the already strong smell of booze and cigarettes was just straight up harassing the nostrils of anyone nearby.

But even with the huge charge of work on your shoulders, your mind still found the ability to focus on when a particular client was going to cross the doors of your shop. One you've found yourself chatting with almost everytime he came, which was quite a lot since he was a common customer of yours.

You heard the bars doors open.

There he was. The arsonist himself.

"Hey Sanford, getting the usual tonight?"

"Yep!"

You quickly passed him his glass. He often arrived a bit late, but that wasn't a problem, as it meant you had less customers on your throat and therefore more time for talking.

"Thanks for the drink! Here, that's extra for another." He said while passing you some cash, at which you grinned and leaned over to whisper.

"Is this money yours?"

"Can't be the corpse I took it from's!"

You laughed "Yup, guess that makes sense!"

The rest of the night was like this. You serving glasses of cheap booze to Sanford while laughing and talking about whatever was going on in this shitty state (you were serving your other clients of course).

But the thing is, when someone binge-drinks alcohol no one bothered to check for ethanol levels, they most likely get very drunk or drop dead right there. Thankfully, the mass-murderer in front of you could survive being stabbed like 127 times, so after everyone else left, it was just you and the incoherent babblings of this man in the bar.

"You should-*hic!* You should have seen their face!" Sanford's loud laughter echoed through the room as he told you about yet another dumb ennemy's death. "His aim was worse than Hank's...caba...capatylipy at being a good person!" This was at least the fourth time he said the same thing about that agent's aim and failed to correctly say "capability", but it wasn't a problem.

"They really got that stormtrooper aim huh?"

"*hic!* Hehe yeah!"

There was an akward silence between you yoo before the drunkard rested his head on his hand (he missed, by the way) and spoke up.

"Y'know...You're really nice..." It was probably the alcohol, but it felt like his face got redder.

You smiled with a hum "Thank you, I return the compliment."

"Like...*hic!*The whole rooms blurry and spinny right now but I can still see your prettyness aalll fiiine..!"

...Not taking any risks. He is absolutely wasted after all. "You're drunk Sanford."

Even if you were a rather calm person, you definitely couldn't stop your heart from skipping a beat when he put his hand on yours, resting on the counter. Looking up at his eyes, they looked serious; he wasn't smiling anymore.

"Then ask me when I'm not, I'll tell you I love you the exact same way."

And then he passed out.

...

Well damn. How were you supposed to react to this. Sure, you might secretly have had a small thing for Sanford for a while now. But did you expect him to reciprocate? No, absolutely not. It was unrealistic to think this "heartless monster" could feel any affection at all, let alone romantic. And yet here you were, contemplating your existence and feelings in front of a dead asleep majorly wanted criminal.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally picked up the phone peeking out his pocket to call one of his friends to pick him up.

...What? It's not like you were going to look at anything else on there! How else were you supposed to bring him home? It's not like you could just keep him here for the night!

Internal monologuing aside, you sent a text to his best friend Deimos explaining Sanford was asleep and all that stuff. You knew Deimos decently well, Sanford very often brings him to the bar. You knew you could trust this man with bringing his best friend home. Not sure about not drawing on his face while he's asleep.

Welp, now all you had to do is wait. Wait right next to the sleeping man who drunkenly said he loved you...

...Probably won't remember it either...

......They often say you admit how you truly feel when you're drunk, right..?

.........It'll just be one...One little kiss to his cheek he will not know anything about as you whisper your words.

"I love you too Sanford."

--------------------------------------------------

Hooolyy shit I procrastinated on this story for so long. But here it is, Sanford finally gets laid.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

♫ you dont have to answer this especially if you already have a ton but lllllllincoln li-wilson,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, i am a simple man

SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO THIS I WANTED TO BE REASONABLY THOROUGH (AND YES I DO HAVE TO ANSWER THIS ACTUALLY!!!)

*breathes* heh. This might be a tad long, so let's go to my super secret Lincoln Li Wilson fan club under the cut

-oh right, the password! No problem it's

SAY HI TO YOUR DAD FOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

HEH. WELCOME TO THE COOLEST CLUB IN THE FANDOM, POPULATION YOU AND ME.

okokokokokok so so so so well I guess what I realized is that, while I have many songs for this boy- err technically a lot of them are in a shippy sorta context?? But I don't wanna, well, I don't wanna hit you with anything that is too, like, "ship-dependent" cause I don't know what you do or don't ship!

*That said*- my fucking gothcleats playlist dude? I'm handing it to you anyways cause I have FEELINGS about every single one of these fucking songs and imo honestly you can interpret most of them in a completely non romantic context anyways also also almost all of them are from Linc's perspective for me so I think you'd genuinely still appreciate at least some of these. All *that* said, I will be picking a few from this playlist to talk about that really aren't that romance-coded if at all buuuut are gonna be about Scary to some degree.

Oh- my swiftli playlist you ask??? IT'S SO FUCKING STUPID DUDE. It's so dumb like it's so silly like it's almost purely vibes and the vibes are really really dumb but yesss I'm handing you this one as well I'm not saying the songs don't slap but they're still very stupiddddd.

OK on to some fucking songs yeah???? So I guess the first one I'll start with is:

"Angel With A Shotgun" by The Cab

Which, okay, before I even get to the lyrics like come ON am I wrong for thinking that even just that fucking name is the most Lincoln Li Wilson thing in the whole god damn world??

But yeah, I mean lyrically really this one has a lot going for it as a Lincoln song, but to point out a few particular lyrics that stand out to me:

////

If love's a fight, then I shall die With my heart on a trigger

They say before you start a war You better know what you're fighting for

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting 'til the war's won I don't care if heaven won't take me back I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Sometimes to win, you've got to sin Don't mean I'm not a believer

And I'm gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight

////

😤 This one really gives me extra feels after the last episode, I gotta say! :0 As far as like pure imagery goes I think some strange combination of an angel and a soldier is just *so* Lincoln. There's just these really interesting themes with Lincoln of like, devotion, and sacrifice, and perseverance, and making tough decisions! Especially to help those around you! This song really just captures that for me.

Okay, next!

"Hit The Floor" by Linkin Park (more like Lincoln Park am I right sorry sorry)

Right right, where to start with this one... This one captures two primary concepts for me. It's partially, like, confrontation between Linc and Scary, from his perspective. But actually, I think you could also interpret some of these as relating to his frustrations with Grant as well! Otherwise, I like this one cause I think it captures Linc's ability to like, totally turn the tables and flip the switch when you least expect it? Seriously, that boy is quick on his feet (heh soccer heh), and always has a trick up his sleeve. Here's a few lyrics:

////

One minute, you're on top! The next you're not, missed your shot You think you won, and then it's all gone

So many people like me put so much trust in all your lies So concerned with what you think to just say what we feel inside So many people like me walk on eggshells all day long All I know is that all I want is to feel like I'm not stepped on

What goes up will surely fall, and I'm countin' down the time 'Cause I've had so many stand-offs with you, it's about as much as I can stand So I'm waitin' until the upper hand is mine

I know I'll never trust a single thing you say You knew your lies would divide us, but you lied anyway And all the lies have got you floating up above us all But what goes up has got to fall

////

I guess Mike Shinoda is just *the* Linc artist for me, cause this next one is from him as well!

"Believe Me" by Fort Minor

:0 Also about Linc's confrontations with Scary, but with a different flavor! Here I think it's more retrospective, at least in part, in reference to how Linc used to look up to Scary in some sense, and trusted her and all that. Otherwise, there's obviously some narrative parallels going on between these two, particularly with regards to the evolution of their mental/emotional states, which I think some of these lines nod to as well:

...Yeah it's really basically the entire song for this one ahahaha what can I say it's good shit

////

You like fun and games? Keep playing 'em I'm just saying, think back then, we was like one and the same On the right track, but I was on the wrong train Just like that, now you gotta face the pain And the devil's got a fresh new place to play And in your brain, like a maze you can never escape the rain Every damn day is the same shade of grey

Hey, I used to have a little bit of plan Used to have a concept of where I stand But that concept slipped right out of my hand Now, I don't really even know who I am Yo, what do I have to say? Maybe I should do what I have to do to break free And whatever happens to you, we'll see But it's not gonna happen with me

I guess that this is where we've come to If you don't want to, then you don't have to believe me But I won't be there when you go down Just so you know now, you're on your own now, believe me

Back then, I thought you were just like me Somebody who could see all the pain I see But you proved to me unintentionally That you would self destruct eventually Now I'll be thinking like the mistake I made doesn't hurt But it's not gonna work 'cause it's really much worse Than I thought, I wished you were something you were not And now this guilt is really all that I got

////

ALRIGHT. Let me leave you with one that's just for Linc. I won't bother with specific lyrics for this one, this song slaps (I think!), you gotta give it a listen.

"Galvanize" by The Chemical Brothers

Linc calls the shots in this fucking podcast, you know this, I know this. That's what this one is about.

[maladaptive-jcb]

Chapter 2: Strokes of Familiarity

Jamie x female!reader fanfic

(fluff, safe for under 18)

Click here for chapter 1 if you missed it.

Summary: Reader is an independent artist who lives on her own in a small town and meets Jamie, a musician, in an art studio where their budding relationship formed through shared interests of different forms of art.

Warning: There will be talks about trauma and PTSD from domestic abuse and dissociative episodes throughout the story.

“Helloooo? Y/n? I said there’s another stack of books coming,” Adrian, my manager snapping his fingers in front of me.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” I say apologetically.

“What’s up with you today? You’ve been day dreaming a lot.”

There’s not a lot of employees here. It’s just me and a couple younger people who are looking for extra cash. I was Adrian’s first co-worker here and we’re more like family now than just co-workers to be honest. Adrian is older than me so he has more of that big brother energy. His thick reading glasses and brown slick-back hair were the first few things I noticed when I applied for the job.

“I’m sorry, Adrian. I didn’t mean to. Alright, look! I’m focused now!” Smacking my face with both hands in front of him to prove it.

“It’s not just that, you’re a lot… smiley… today. I don’t think I like it. You’re creeping me out,” he looks at me over his now lowered glasses.

“Oh, it's um- It's nothing, okay? I'm going to unload the books now. Now may I please go or are you gonna keep interrogating me?"

He squints his eyes at me. "This is not over, y/n."

Adrian has always been protective of me, especially when he knows the whole reason I moved up here. Telling him about a guy I just talked today is probably not a good idea. Besides, what is there to tell? That I had a coffee with a guy from class? I shouldn't even be all smiley about it yet.

There’s a lot of book donations coming here surprisingly. I clean them up a little before unloading according to their categories. Mystery, fantasy, true crime, science fiction, autobiography, vampires… You get it.

____

I glance at the antique clock sitting on the cashier's counter. It's 5:40 p.m. so it's close to closing time. That also means that he's almost here. I pick up the broom to sweep off some dusty areas while wondering if I even have the time to change my clothes. Although, crazy as it may sound, Jamie being spontaneous also got me all excited. I look around the store and Adrian is already leaving as he lets me close up after him. I finally let a tiny giggle escape my mouth now that I'm no longer within his earshot.

He’s here.

Jamie is five minutes early. Seeing his car pulling up suddenly turns my stomach into a knot. Why am I anxious? It’s just dinner between friends, right?

Before I get to open the car, he stops me and gets out from his seat. “Wait!” He did a little jog towards me and then opens the door for me instead.

“M’lady,” in his teasing tone again.

“My, my. Mr. Gentleman.”

Of course he looks amazing right now. Grey shirt with top half unbuttoned slightly revealing his tattooed chest, paired with a leather jacket that hugs his frames perfectly. His hair swept messily to the side and subtle silver chain on his neck. I step into the car and he carefully closes it before running back to his side and gets in.

“You’re early,” I say.

“And hungry!” he exclaims back. “I know this really good Italian place, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, yes I love Italian!” finally sensing my hunger. Apparently the knots in my stomach has more than one reason to appear.

“Perfetto!” his chef kiss motion follows along with it. “It’s kinda nice to have someone to go out with since I’m new in town. Thanks for joining me tonight,” he smiles gratefully.

“Well I didn’t really have a choice, didn't I?” teasing him about driving off before I could say anything.

“You were gonna say yes anyway though, weren’t you?”

“Well, I-“

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” his tone in playful mocking.

“Wow, really?” I jokingly scoff at him.

He starts the car and drives off to the main highway. I usually walk around town to get from one place to another. I have never gone this far through the highway except that one time Adrian needed me to pick up some new shipments with him. I'm starting to wonder if he's actually about to kidnap me.

“You know… I’ve wanted to talk to you too. In class,” his face focused on the road. Fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Oh?” My train of thoughts disappear as he spoke.

“It’s just, I feel so out of place there and I’m always struggling. I didn’t know what you would think of me. I mean, you’re very talented. It’s amazing.”

He did a quick glance at me before focusing back on the road. No smile this time. Just a look of serenity… or admiration? I can’t tell. It’s getting dark and the low light is casting subtle shadows that somehow highlight his jawlines even more.

“That’s… Wow. Thank you so much, Jamie.”

He glances at me again. That same look.

I clear my throat.

“But you’ve been improving so much too! I love some of your recent work. I’m very surprised how fast you learned."

A smile curls up his lips. His eyes give a faint glimmer in the shadows. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” I put my hand on his shoulder reassuringly. His fingers stop tapping as I did.

“Will you give me some tips next time we’re in class?”

I can feel myself beaming. “I thought you’d never ask.”

____

Chapter 3

Seems like you have a new budding friendship with Jamie now! Wonder how your dinner with him will go next? 🤔

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

YOUR FRIDAY TEACHING RANT

What a flipping day!

There was a volleyball game and a football game tonight. Before school there was face painting which always gets the students excited. Then during first period, we had a visit from the girls volleyball team. The class, especially the boys, really freaked out.

"They're so big!!" "They're so tall!"

" I've never seen so many girls before , I'm scared!"

"Can I hide behind your desk!?"

I had to spend my conference running to Walmart to get treats for my third period class, because in that class only 2 people failed chapter test. I had tried to go the day before and apparently there had been a power outage and the store was closed.

The kids were already jacked up all day because of the visit from the volleyball team. Then on top of that every Friday the kids that attend all week & don't miss any classes get an extra recess period and all the teachers have to be out and on duty. I

Just as we had gotten them in from recess, changed classes, and barely started on the next lesson-----there was a @&%%$^^:ing FIRE DRILL

That did it, the day was officially a loss.

5 minutes before I was to meet Adrianna for her first lesson in reading, I realize someone had stolen my Scrabble tiles.

When I came back in after the summer and after not having been there for the first two w weeks of professional development I realized that someone had been in my room and had taken some of my stuff. At first it wasn't that bad but I still was not happy:

Among the missing items were three boxes of multicolored Expo markers, six bottles of glue, and a box of classroom set markers that have several colors missing but they were still good enough markers to use there was no reason to throw them out.

3 years ago I had a space motif going and with that I had found on Amazon an original Star Wars poster of Mark Hamill as Luke skywalker. He was very young obviously in the poster and it was in perfect condition. No I didn't pay that much for it but it was just the fact that I got it and I was so proud of it. At the end of the year I folded it up nestled it among all the other posters that I had and put it in my cabinet. My cabinet does not have a lock on it or rather it does but the key has been gone for years so you can't lock it.

When I came back after that summer someone had taken the Skywalker poster.

And the fact that I am 100% sure it was a fellow teacher makes it just that much worse because they're in the same boat I am. Neither one of us have that much extra money to spend on stuff.

I was able to pull up an online free Scrabble game on scrabble.com. still it was not nearly as good, even with the interactive projection board we have, as it would have been with all those wooden tiles that you can actually hold in your hand.

Adriana still did really well though.

Well the first class was not paying a whole lot of attention to it. So the second class I had I started acting it out. And line by line what was being said I acted out as the video played. The kids loved it.

And. And. And on top of all of this:

We try to start off each class with some type of inspirational video. This week though, we have been so far behind--- because nobody will stop talking---that we have had to skip the video.

So today we had one and it was about the importance of being yourself and not following the crowd.

Being the awkward autistic I am, (I am a big fat ham when it comes to showing off) I loved the attention. Win-win.

However every class showered this Praise on me;

"Miss!! We didn't know you knew SIGN LANGUAGE!!"

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 7, Part 2

Bob's dream is to reach the top of the chef career. However an opportunity to franchise his recipes has him considering what he really wants from his career, and legacy. Dale may be old but he's alive the entire part, no unwarned deaths here!

They were rolled for the week of Dia de los Muertos so I did my best to have them celebrate it and honour the spirit of the occasion. Obviously not a perfect representation, I'm still learning and bound to make some mistakes on the way.

Bob: You look amazing Jumble

Eliza: You don't look so bad yourself Sleek

Bob: Listen, at work today I was approached by a rich customer

Eliza: Did they want you to add extra kale again

Bob: No, actually they wanted to open a chain of Bob Pancake restaurants

Eliza: Are you joking right now

Bob: I know money means a lot to you so I wouldn't joke

Eliza: Are we going to be rich

Bob: I'm not finished yet

Eliza: There's more than a restaurant chain

Bob: They had some conditions. Retirement being the main one

Eliza: So money without working? Sounds perfect

Bob: And never being a chef again

Eliza: Let me guess, you turned them down

Bob: They wanted to have sole rights to my image, my name, my recipes

Eliza: *sighs* Bob-

Bob: It just didn't feel right. I want to make a name for myself. Be a sim you and our kids can be proud of

Eliza: And a chain wouldn't accomplish that?

Bob: It wouldn't

Bob: And I'm only 37 anyway, I have so many more years of work and creation still in me

Eliza: Oh.... thank the watcher!

Bob: Wait... You're not mad?

Eliza: I might be SAD we don't get a large sum but I'm not mad. Sleek, a life without cooking would make you miserable when you already struggle with low moods. I'd rather you be busy, happy and healthy than unemployed, sitting around the house, packing the pounds back on. I LOVE money... but I love you more

Bob: I don't plan to be a nobody forever, I'll work hard and in time who knows, maybe I'll open my own place with my own rules

Eliza: You could never be a nobody to me

Bob: I want something I can leave our kids that's more than just simoleons

Eliza: I'm proud of you Bob

Bob: You are

Eliza: Of course. We've both grown since we got married

Bob: Well I'm proud of you, my super hot wife who's a corporate superstar and grew two kids

Eliza: You make them sound like plants

Bob: You know you were napping on my side of the bed

Eliza: Your side? The whole thing is mine

Bob: May I sleep there tonight

Eliza: Depends how good your payment scheme is

When the bargaining of the bed was done for the night the two Pancakes settled down to sleep. No large payout for Bob, but the future is full of possibilities. He maintains the freedom to use his name himself for whatever he chooses to do in the culinary world.

This Sunday is Dia de Muertos, day of the dead. In my game it's used as a day to honour those that have passed on, celebrating life and family. Whereas my sims Halloween is more about embracing the candy and costumes and commercialism. It felt important to have a separate holiday for these two things.

One of the traditions is attending a holiday ceremony together. Before the family can leave however, there is a few chores to do and a Dale to comfort. Bob improves his handiness by fixing the constantly breaking plumbing. Iggy takes time to practice his violin while Fergus uses the bathroom.

Outfits on and faces painted, the Pancakes are ready to head to Willow Creek church and cemetery to pay homage to those sims who have passed on.

At the community lot Iggy and Fergus happily leave sugar skulls. It appears that Eliza and Bob missed the memo about the day being a celebration, and mourn for sims that have passed on.

Leaving sugar skulls brings a day of the dead celebrator, today it's Helena. I try to get the Pancakes to all ask for sugar skulls but glitches abound. As in Iggy received two sugar skulls, one from Fergus and one from Eliza, none from Helena. No one else could get a sugar skull *sighs*

Back home Bob tries to improve his celebrity level by livestreaming his cooking. He is working on improving the gourmet cooking and baking skills. The drone has a friendly enough face so Bob does his best to ignore that there's real sims watching him. He manages to gain a few hundred followers.

Eliza is busy working out when I notice Fergus has picked up some of Kelly's bad habits. On his mother's pristine porch he is dumping paint! Eliza may be embracing some of Bob's mess but that doesn't mean she'll let her kids ruin her tidy house.

Eliza: Stop this instant

Fergus: But the deck should celebrate to

Eliza: It's a deck Fergus. Is that paint water soluble

Fergus: I don't know what that means

Eliza: You better hope it is because after a time out it's your job to clean it

Fergus: But YOU clean everything

Eliza: You made this mess, you'll clean it up

In the kitchen Bob demonstrates he has learned to clean up after himself sometimes. Fergus looks way too happy in time out, probably congratulating himself on a good prank. After Iggy gives Dale a big hug he starts work on his fitness badge. To help, Bob and Eliza have bought him a bike.

Dale is the best assistant chef anyone could hope for. He always check on what Bob is cooking, and eats any scraps that drop. Between putting things in the oven and getting them out Bob makes sure to shower Dale in affection. He loves his four legged family member.

Eliza: Fergus! Dinner!

Iggy: Slow poke

Eliza: I can't believe you did so much today Sleek without messing up your facepaint

Bob: I can cook on auto pilot

Fergus: Why do we even celebrate it

Eliza: I beg your pardon

Fergus: We don't have an Mexican heritage, do we

Bob: We don't but that's not the point

Iggy: The point is sugar skulls

Eliza: No it isn't

Bob: Boys, sims come from many cultures. We may not have Mexican heritage but other sims in this save do

Fergus: So we do it for them?

Eliza: Them and our own ancestors. Dia de Muertos is about celebrating the lives of sims who came before us

Iggy: Who came before us

Bob: Your grandparents

Fergus: Shouldn't we have their photos displayed somewhere

Bob: Normally on Dia de Muertos you would, along with food and candles for their spirits

Eliza: But being premades we don't have any photos of them

Iggy: That sucks

Eliza: Iggy! Language!

Bob: Your grandmother made this soup for me when I was little, it always made me feel comforted

Eliza: And your grandfather taught me how to budget, make do with what you have. I value nice things because I know what it is to have nothing

Fergus: I never knew that

Bob: And that's why we celebrate

Eliza's week will likely be filled with boosting skills for her next promotion. Her hobby is arts and crafts though so it's important she takes some time to relax and cross stitch. Of course, it's hard to do that when you have an adorable dog wanting attention. Dale and Eliza have become companions.

It's hard to pull pranks when everyone is busy so Fergus sets himself up at an activity table to do some drawing and make some crafts. Outside Iggy is still working on his bike riding for his Keep Fit badge. Eliza finishes her cross stitch, though she received a few pricks getting there.

Bob is busy trying to write a cookbook about breakfasts when Dale approaches. He wants to play fetch! Bob eagerly abandons his work and heads to the backyard. The yard has enough space to play fetch properly and Dale and Bob have a whale of a time.

Previous Part ... Next Part

[aetherspoon]

A not-so-simple relocation, day -1.

TW: Suicidal thoughts, under the cut.

I'm currently taking a forced break from packing and thought to write down some of my thoughts.

For those that don't know, I'm moving from the United States to Norway. Specifically flying out tomorrow, arriving the day after, bringing all sorts of things with me including three friends (who will return in a week) and two cats (who will not be returning within a week).

Unfortunately for me, this move has been anything but normal, even given the fact that I'm relocating to a different hemisphere. I had plans to have a friend here a few days in advance (that fell through; no one is arriving until tonight), I had plans for an organizer to help me settle things (she caught Covid and had to cancel), I even had plans for having a day off before the movers arrived... but the movers arrived at the absolute earliest time possible.

My computers are all packed at this point save the laptop I'm typing this on, although my main desktop is sitting in a giant box that I'm crossing my fingers the bag check person will look over the size on rather than shipping her like I had planned. I'm currently up to seven checked bags and likely need a few more. I already asked my existing roommate (who is buying my house from me) if it was okay to leave some things behind for when I return in September, so it isn't THAT big of a deal if not everything comes with me this time.

So, why the trigger warning? Well, today in particular has been pretty bad for me - lots of things going wrong, expecting some things to be available for me that were packed by the movers (which goes on a slow boat), other things that were supposed to be packed that weren't. Nothing against the movers, they were awesome - this was entirely on me for being so disorganized.

But one thing came up this afternoon that kind of broke me - my headphones were missing. I have a pair of really nice noise cancelling headphones that I bought after losing my old pair (which in of itself triggered a mental breakdown when I realized it had happened). They're supposed to be extra nice for the airplane so I can try and relax with some degree of success. They were missing.

I looked everywhere for them, couldn't find them. Even found their case, but not the headphones. I gave up looking and even looked at buying another pair at a local store before leaving because all of them were overpriced and didn't meet my needs. But I found them! They were buried between two of my bags for some reason.

That's good news, right?

Brain, immediate thought: "Ah good, you're not a complete fuck-up apparently. You'd still be better off dead given all of the hassle you made your friends deal with though. Better to just end it now."

I am technically classified as in remission from my depression at this point. I've been doing a lot better lately, reframing various negative thoughts. My anxiety has been utterly ridiculous (see this whole move business), but depression hasn't really been as present. It has been a while since my last major suicidal thought, even if my depression has been rather nasty this past week - but that's temporary, not a longer lasting depression, hence the "remission" part of my official diagnosis.

Upon that thought, I stopped packing, told my partner (who I was on a video call with) about it, then stopped to take a break. I've watched a couple of short videos, typed up this post, and just sat here focusing on anything but my current situation. And yes, typing up a blog talking about said situation doesn't count for me; my brain makes the rules, not me.

Tomorrow morning, I leave my house. I leave behind various bits of furniture, random odds and ends that need to be donated or recycled, my former life, my friends, the place I've lived the longest by a large margin, and most importantly one of my cats (we decided that Boo would be happier by herself and she's known my housemate just as long as me).

I really hope this is the right decision.

[mx-princey]

Once again I'm feeling nauseous from exhaustion so I might sleep early tonight.

Sidenote, I hate when people thinking overworking yourself is admirable. The past few 9 hour shifts I haven't had the time for my second break even though its legally required, the second time I even worked overtime cause we were too behind (understaffed?) to finish on time. I let my supervisor know, cause after half the supervisors left recently I figured maybe she's still adjusting and learning how the shifts go and if I tell her she could roster more people and we'd have the time for breaks. She told me she would add the breaks I didn't take to my time so I could get paid extra for the breaks I missed, which I thought was fair cause I'm getting compensated for my work.

Then the next day, the coworker that was present when I brought it up to the supervisor complained that he always skips breaks and doesn't expect compensation for them. He even seemed a bit mad which made me feel bad because he's always 110% cheerful at work. He also works nearly every day for really long hours and often shows up 30 mins to an hour early for his shifts and I think he expects everyone to be the same. But its like... I can't do that. If I work too long I literally come home and throw up. So if I accept long shifts I want to be paid appropriately for them, not mention that accepting less pay than I deserve sets a bad precedent for the workplace and is letting my workplace overstep boundaries take advantage of my kindness. I like to work and I like to put effort into my work but I expect to be paid what I put in.

Maybe I'll discuss with my supervisors about not taking on too much work / or maybe my doctor or therapist cause my therapist has said it makes sense I get exhausted from work because I'm masking the whole time and that takes energy, and if I get a doctors recommendation then I can make sure I'm taken seriously.

Whoops this post got really long I just have lots of thoughts.

[tunasundays]

Sunday April 7

hehe hi,

I recently rewatched Mtvs Awkward and remembered how much I loved having a little blog when I was 13. I got lonely tonight and had so many thoughts and I was distraught when I have no one to throw my thoughts at. So here I am typing to the void of the internet. This little blog is just gonna be a collection of thoughts classic diary style! I just wanna be able to post little entries of the different thoughts. I know it must be somewhat of a common experience for us ex Tumblr girlies that miss that random connection with people you don't know that have the same interest as you. I also just have so many fun sexy stories to tell and no one to tell them too.

lets dive in

starting with music

I am listening to The Last Dinner Party and I just am feeling the energy I felt when I watched YellowJackets. Is this a shared experience??? dying to know.I just listened to the Prelude to Ecstasy I really enjoyed it and will have more thoughts once I give it a second listen through. I yearn to have friends who watch and listen to the exact things I listen to. I want to be able to discuss these things! -- Chappell Roan is my everything and I just can not stop listening to her. I adore what she has to offer to the world of pop.-- I just now realized how much Luke Bryan I listened to in my first country phase. Like DAmn this man had a lot of bangers on the Crash My Party Album.

Lets talk tv bitches

the invincible season final had me gagged. I couldn't speak and that is rare for me. I am a chatter box but I did not have words! wow! from what I have been reading on twitter I should read the comic for all the extra context and action. I am very excited for the next season and hope it comes at least in the next year.

The Real shit

Fuck y'all. I finally got out of the two month long hookup drought. y'all I am baffled by the audacity of men. I am aware its not too surprising but god damnit!!!!!!!! This was supposed to be my redemption arc but I am very discouraged. Over the weekend I had two suitors (both from the dating apps) boy #1 had the stamina of a fucking horse on steroids. that being said there was no foreplay! but I was touch starved that I didn't give a fuck! lmao. so we go FOUR rounds. He gets off every time and I got off slightly once.The whole experience was just not uncomfortable in a non consent way but in a way it was just not my cup of tea. I am down to try everything once and this showed me I don't love or hate my toes being sucked on. wtf! I am a socks during sex type of girly and it kinda through me off guard but it wasn't the craziest part of this experience. This man fully used his jizz as a massage oil on my back and I was so taken a back! he asked me "has anyone ever done that before" my befuddled self just said No?!?! lmao! its so silly I wasn't that grossed out by it I was planning on taking a shower after he left but like what? I'm not gonna yuck someones yum but I didn't know that was a thing???? Okay boy #2 we have been talking on the snapchat for a while and went for drinks awhile back. The talks over snap have gotten spicy a couple times and we were both pretty excited to get together in person. I was excited because this man talked up his game in a very believable and respectable way. It was SO awkward and I know I am a silly person but usually I can keep a conversation going. That was not the case. So at a very random point in conversation he kisses me and It was just not good and that's a terrible start! like whaaaaaat where are your lips! You are just giving me your tongue and do not get me wrong I love a good French kiss but let me feel your lips first! so things start and I end up getting this man off two times in 15 minutes at the most. the entire experience from kissing to his double completion was 25 minutes. Which would be fine if he would of taken the time to get me off like he said he would in these past two weeks of snapchat. He is now distant and I have a feeling its because he knows he didn't provide anything exciting for me. Dating is so damn hard. The thing is I don't even want a boyfriend. I could be a perfect FWB for some very lucky attractive sex god but I can't find him!! I stupidly thought moving to the big apple would provide a better pond but damn its just not going well. That being said I'm gonna keep on trying for the plot because although its bad sex its funny stories. one day I will find a sexy person to have fun casual sex with on a regular basis. that's not too much too ask for! this is getting messy lmao its late I'm wine tipsy. haha goodnight whores xox

[redwineconversation]

I've been thinking way too loud, I wish that I could block me out (PSG - Olympique Lyonnais Postgame Thoughts)

As ugly as this game was - and it was ugly in every sense of the term, it's also nice to have a team who knows how to just keep their head down, focus on what matters, and do their job. Sometimes the win is the only thing that matters to a team, and those are the teams we should appreciate.

But that doesn't excuse how ugly the game was. It's up there with one of the worse games Lyon has played, and I'm not entirely what it would have looked like if Endler hadn't GOATed the way she did.

And in a weird way that was also really reassuring. We saw the Endler Lyon had courted, the one I think teams were - I don't want to say afraid of, but maybe were more cautious around. Respected, I guess. OL Night Systems had a fascinating interview last year where the team psychologist talked about how Endler was one of the leaders not because of how vocal she is but by the calmness and presence she has in goal. It was on full display tonight.

Everyone keeps saying that Dumornay is the GOAT but I did not see it tonight. I'd rip into her for tripping every time she had the ball but other players were slipping over as well, so I can't single her out for something others did as well. I'm not sure why the Lyon players kept slipping so much - if it was just the pitch then PSG players would have been slipping as well, but it was just Lyon players.

The time wasting after the 88th minute has got to stop. I understand game management, I do, but we knew there would be a considerable amount of extra time. It was pointless, it was annoying, it needs to be nipped in the bud.

That being said, maybe the only thing Bompastor did right this game was time management for the international players. I'm sure van de Donk's fucking stans are screaming on social media that Bompastor was wrong to take her off in the 60th minute, as though van de Donk hadn't played two full international games the past 10 days. Majri actually got to play a bit more but the rust is still super visible, even if it is - slowly - being shaken off.

Le Sommer's resurrection era is nice. I always knew she wasn't as dead as people proclaimed. She just needed a coach to believe in her again, and Herve Renard did that. It's not that much of a stretch to finally acknowledge the ghost, or something.

Re: the defense - Gilles got more of a workout than she has in a while, but that's honestly the only thing that stood out for me. They did their job defensively. I expect them to do their job. Not much else I can add to that.

Re: the midfield - not much to write home about, but I also don't think that PSG games actually tell you a whole lot about it since it's always such a physical game. Damaris got a yellow card because what is shall forever be. Van de Donk got into a scuffle with the ref after a card. Horan missed. Everyone was getting beaten up and everyone was beating everyone else up. Again, to be expected from a Lyon - PSG game. Should the midfield have played better? Yeah, absolutely. Are you ever gonna get a masterclass from the midfield in a Lyon - PSG game? No. If you do then it means there is a blood bath and a team rolled over.

So, yeah. Ugly win, but it's a win, which you get when you have a professional team who knows how to cancel out outside noise. Winning is cool. How it happened sometimes it isn't what's important.

I probably won't get to the postgame interviews before Tuesday or Wednesday, but will do them once OLPlay posts them and I have enough time to translate them.

[dzpenumbra]

5/2/23

Good lord I'm tired. I slept like shit again. Really bad this time. Only like 5 hours total. And a very intense yoga routine. But... I did finish this...

So... not all is lost. I spent pretty much the whole day on it.

I don't really have much to say tonight, I'm just beyond exhausted. I need to find something to help sleep. And again, I've been too afraid of smoking weed. So... I think I'm going to find a good day with good vibes and get something immersive like minecraft set up and then smoke a little bit and see how I handle it, just to get reacquainted. And if it freaks me out, then figure out an alternative.

Again, really weird to be this scared of weed when I smoked every single night for months before I moved in here, and smoked every single night for the first like... 2 months that I was here. But my tolerance is 100% gone, I guarantee it. So... I'm a bit worried about getting hit really hard by it.

You know... when I was 17, I got my parents to buy me beer. Coors Original, I didn't even know beer or anything, I just wanted to drink. And I went walking into town with 2 Nalgenes full of Coors in my backpack, walking barefoot with a skate t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and cargo shorts. When I got into town, I was pretty much done with the first Nalgene and had a good solid buzz going, and my friends pulled up when I was walking past a gas station. They were in their hippie van, they had an extra ticket to the Deep Purple and Joe Satriani show they were going to and wanted to see if I wanted to come with. And I, of course, without hesitation, said yes. And off we went. And I remember being in the parking lot, getting out of the van, chugging the last of my beer and eating a piece of pizza, walking barefoot across this asphalt parking lot. And when we got into the show, we went up to the barricade that separated the "lawn seats" and the actual... seats. And some couple came up to me and my friend, they were leaving and offered us... I shit you not... free second-row seats. And they insisted, so we took them. And I didn't even know the music, I didn't even know I was going to be there!

I used to be spontaneous. I used to say "yes". And now? I'm scared of smoking weed because it might give me a waking nightmare. And I'm often scared to go to sleep because it might give me a... sleeping nightmare. And it makes me understand part of what they mean when they say "oh, to be a kid again." It's not just the wonder and curiosity... it's the naiveté. Car accidents, diseases, mob violence, traumatic shit... those are things you see on the news (I guess today's analog would be social media), those are things that happen in movies and stories and games, those are things that happen to other people. They're removed. And it creates this sense of invulnerability.

To be completely honest, I saw a lot of this in the pandemic. A lot was denial, but that whole attitude of... "well, I'm not gonna get it", "well I don't know anyone who got it", "everyone I know who got it was fine". With the ones whose critical thinking can override their pride, once they see what it's capable of after it strikes close to home? They start taking shit seriously.

Idk, maybe a bad example, but it's something. Point being... I miss being that carefree, and all the good that came with it. I went from whitewater kayaking the day after a hurricane (which was unfathomably dangerous and I would not do again) to being afraid to smoke weed alone in my apartment on a monday afternoon. Or even at 4 AM to help with sleep.

Why? I don't even know. The emotion is just too strong, I guess.

I'm not going to solve this tonight, I just wanted to bring it up again for the umpteenth time. Weed has been a reliable remedy to help with sleep. I think it has to do with suppressing dreams. But I just don't want to wake up after 3 hours, sleep deprived, groggy, hearing weird noises coming from my super loud neighbors, still very high, and start freaking out. I just don't want to absorb that feeling of vulnerability. So, basically... if it works... I will sleep great and a ton of my recurring problems will be remedied. If it doesn't... I will have a waking nightmare for a few hours that's worse than me trying to sleep without weed. Worth the gamble?

If only I had literally anything in place as a contingency plan for freaking out. Like... anything. A happy place. Maybe that can be my thing to work on tomorrow, make a fucking happy place.

I am actually nodding off. I'm out.