#god i could write a five paragraph essay about how if they got together now you could trace their arc back to season 1

[ehloquence]

guzman and samu have more chemistry and sexual tension with each other than either has with any of the girls the writers have set them up with and all of us know it, the producers are just too pussy to actually do something about it

[fencesandfrogs]

clan culture inspiration fic master post

a collection of fics/series/w/e i've used for inspiration. ordered by how much i used them

Flightless Dove, Poison Ivy acaciapines

read it, it’s good. it's 100% my main fic inspiration, i love it, it's very good.

the light that shines on you solacefruit

huge inspiration for my riverclan. just. massively where i get a lot of ideas. probably a larger source of material than flightless dove, if i'm being honest.

RIVERCLAN leaders have a litany of names. weather caller, storm seer, spirit walker. a new leader being made is a chance to find another for the list. these names are to honor leaders for the role they play in their lives.

(names. leaders. meaning.)

so you can see where i got that from.

Warriors Redux Deconstruction Dullard on ao3 (not linked)

i've split this into two parts, because there's a lot. i'm a fan of this in terms of world building, but i've been select in what i've used from it. deconstruction is linked highly because it had a lot of key details that shaped my opinions on what wouldn't be. a lot of this i would've changed anyway, but i wanted to list WR because it'd be dishonest to act like this wasn't shaping my thoughts.

anyway, a short list of things that were mentioned in WR:D that i'd already decided on or am now using

behaviors. i mean, i've said "flicked her tail" or "flattened his ears" so much it's getting old, but by god if i am not being true to cats movements. i think WR:D is somewhat conservative on use of purring, but i've also been writing about kits, and a lot of purring is involved with kits, so special case, i suppose. but i'm very cautious with my descriptions. i've tried really hard not to use smile, because cats don't smile. that's the one that gets me the most.

water. this is kind of a specific thing. but. in ctd's fading echoes. the lake is a concern not because the cats need water, but because the prey needs water.

queens and toms. now. i have always been irritated by this. and the lack of female leadership. because toms should know they're kept on the graces of the queens. the sisters got it right. but i can't just kick out half the cast, so i'm forced to keep them. i have, however, kept toms out of the nursery. queens are protective around their kits. it's the best i can do to appease my strong desire to literally just kick every male cat out of the clan. in all of my stories, though, i keep track of who's in the nursery with what kits, because those kits are going to bond to every damn mother. it's super annoying that this isn't kept more clear anywhere. i have to do so much math and check so many allegiances every time.

kits. it's basically impossible to convince me to write this the way the hunters do, so even in ctd, we see kits not walking, not opening their eyes, until real kittens would. does this make the early chapters of growing shadows a pain because dovekit does basically nothing but sit and listen? yes. do i care? yes, it is important to me that dovekit does nothing but sit and listen because she's a baby. bb. need protect.

genetics. usually i correct coat colors for POV cats. because it bothers me. see: tortie dovekit/ivykit in CTD, and the fact that i think in jaywing, jayfeather is going to end up amber like brightheart. i need to do some research to double check, but...i think that's what will happen. (please don't ask about hollykit, ivykit, and lionkit. i don't even know who their parents are. how is crowfeather "dark grey, almost black"? what does that mean. how is leafpool even leafpool. i don't understand anything.)

religion. i'm not fundamentally changing how starclan works, because i'm writing the books where magic is confirmed real, but...i've tried to distance the connections with it. and god, so help me, i'm going to make things a proper religion for w&f. there will be religious things like prayer. god.

cultures, folklore, names. this is getting long so i'm lumping this together. basically, i've got some name stuff sorted out. it's not "traditional" naming, because i'm not going WR on this and renaming really important cats (altho the reason WR has my respect for traditional naming is because they're not afraid to rename cats to fit the scheme), but i have some pretty defined rules. and there will be folklore and stories. this is especially important for dovefeather, when she goes to riverclan.

Sharing Tongues Icej

a series. i don't think i've used much of this directly, but it has shaped a lot of my opinions on clans. it's why thunderclan is militaristic and why windclan is so strict.

it's also shaped my thoughts on a lot of parts of clan life. i'm writing this all out of order, so i'll say, a lot of the inspiration that warriors redux had, is shared in this series. i'm not sure if there's overlap in the interst, but it's got simularities.

especially in terms of relationships. i have a bit of a fascination with story telling as a form of culture, if only because in my personal life, story telling, especially verbal story telling, has always been really important. so i think a lot about it.

anyway, these are a good set of fics, and they're ranked so highly because they're kind of a paradigm i've crafted my thoughts around.

Tell me about your Ancestors Drowsy_Salamander

so this was what got me started, even over flightless dove. it got me thinking about the differences clans would have.

i haven't written "funerals. mourning. prayer." yet, although as you might guess from the fact that i have a title, it is on my mind. i think i'll draw heavily on this for that.

one other very specific line in this that i draw on is

When SkyClan was reformed by Firestar at the gorge, it was reformed in ThunderClan’s image.

now i say that specifically because i didn't want that. i wanted leafstar to find her own tradition. a lot of skyclan's destiny deals with her struggling to adapt the warrior code to her clan. so Ancestors continues by talking about tree's influence, and this is what i got from it:

SKYCLAN once held ceremonies at tilt, when the birds were quiet, but now, they hold most ceremonies at low moon, when the spirits are strongest. ...

apprentices are made at low sun, born from a time when they were not always gathered.

(ceremonies)

and i'm happy with that

Warriors Redux: Ammendment Dullard on ao3, not linked

this is ranked significantly lower than deconstruction because (a) i'm borrowing superificial things at best and (b) i had already come to a lot of these conclusions. still, i'm writing a full list because there are little things i don't think to write whole essays about sometimes. that said, whereas in deconstruction, i could basically say "yes, everything that's said here, i agree with, i'm only tweaking things for personal taste or because of differences in perspective" here it's more like "here are the things i'm using" and the other stuff is just there, but not really anything i want to use

time and date. in one of my generic CTD posts i had a few paragraphs about this. basically, i like the system of time. except for half, because that confuses me. so it's dawn, sunrise, low sun, (sun) tilt, sunhigh, dusk, moonrise, low moon, (moon) tilt, moonhigh, repeat. and kits are aged to apprentices at the beginning or rough midpoint of seasons.

numbers. math. drawing things in the dirt with claws. in short, yes, no, what the...no. just no. cats in my stories can basically count, but they don't really, like, count the way we do? they might say five leaf bares ago, because i am not saying, "the leaf bare before the one with X which was before the one with Y" and that's what a cat is thinking and maybe they have words for this, i don't know, i'm not writing that. four and nine are holy numbers, or the closest cats get. (apprentices are apprenticed at nine moons in the holy sense, because a queen pregnent for a three --- two, but who's counting --- and in the nursery for six. this will never come up in a story unless it's a background note, because it's confusing and hard to explain off the cuff.) i don't have to explain my last point.

names. i have my own rules. i don't intend on changing character names with the exception of the symbolism in jaywing and dovefeather, but i may at some point make some comments on what, based on my rules, i would do. i don't want to change names because it confuses me, but i don't want to say for sure that i won't. definitely not based on WR rules, i have my own form of "traditional naming" for the w&f world.

clan specific notes. you can find it in my writing. there's a lot of influence in it. i don't want to list everything.

come back to you one by one solacefruit

i haven't really used this for anything, i just generally like it. it's definitely given me inspiration for how i use stories, but not any particular thing.

it really is beautiful, though.

alright, that's about it.

[cotncandyboifics]

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,780

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: <none> (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: hook chapter go brr

...

Nice to meet you, where you been?

I can show you incredible things

Magic, madness, heaven, sin

Saw you there, and I thought

"Oh my god, look at that face

You look like my next mistake"

Love's a game, wanna play?

Roman checked his watch discreetly as he walked down the hall toward his first class. 7:58. He was almost late, but not quite. As he walked in, earning a glare from Mr. Berry and a few students, he glanced at the whiteboard. It read: "Tuesday, September 3 / Classwork: OT essay workday / Homework: OT Analysis and Essay due FRIDAY". The word "Friday" was written sloppily large and underlined. Roman just kept his sleepy poker face and walked to his desk, in the second-to-last row in the middle. He'd not noticed the shrunken figure at the desk next to him, whom everyone knew but no one liked. Virgil Black.

New money, suit and tie

I can read you like a magazine

Ain't it funny, rumors fly

And I know you've heard about me

So hey, let's be friends

I'm dying to see, how this one ends

Grab your passport, and my hand

I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.

Virgil shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets as he glared in Roman's general direction from behind bright purple bangs. His scowl deepened as Roman pulled out his notebook but didn't take his single earbud out, proceeding to doodle on the margins of his notebook.

Roman propped his head up on his right palm, tilting his head carelessly as he drew stars around a stick man's head. By this time, the plump red-faced man known as Mr. Berry, teacher of English 12, had taken his respected place at the front of the class for a quick lecture before they began classwork.

So it's gonna be forever,

Or it's gonna go down in flames

You can tell me when it's over,

If the high was worth the pain

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

'Cus you know I love the players,

And you love the game

"Good morning students," He said in a blubbering gritty voice, the sagging skin below his chin bouncing comically as he did so. "I trust you completed reading the rest of the book. Now, as I'm sure you've noticed, the Analysis and quotes along with your essay's final draft are due - both printed - on Friday. If you turn it in on Monday, it'll drop two letter grades, and any time after that is a zero. I should hope this first assignment will get you in the punctual mindset for my class." The large man was walking about the room, between desks checking for cheating or kids working ahead. He was strict, and didn't tolerate out-of-line behavior. As he completed his sentence, his eyes fell on Roman, who was still slouched apathetically, doodling, earbud in. The students watching Mr. Berry saw his face somehow achieve a deeper hue of red and his eyes bulge, as a bull does when it spots it's target. Roman however, didn't notice; a pale-faced Virgil tried to get his attention without the teacher noticing.

'Cus we're young and we're reckless,

We'll take this way too far

It'll leave you breathless,

Or with a nasty scar

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

But I've got a blank space baby...

And I'll write your name.

"Psst. Roman." he hissed in vain. Roman's earbud was in his right ear, the same side Virgil was sitting on, so quiet noises from that direction were inaudible to him. Despite the class's uneasiness as Mr. Berry made his way to Roman's seat, and though Roman was fully aware of the fat fuming man advancing on him, he made no change in expression or focus; merely, filled in the dark half of the yin yang he had sketched next to his name as he lightly mouthed the words of the song.

Mr. Berry stopped right in front of Roman's desk, looking down at him furiously. When Roman ignored him, he took further action. Just as Roman had completed the yin yang, a fat red hand came down loudly on his desk and a sudden "MR. PRINCE!!" Erupted from the old man's gullet.

Cherry lips, crystal skies

I can show you incredible things

Stolen kisses, pretty lies

You're the king baby I'm your queen

Find out what you want,

Be that girl for a month

Wait, the worst is yet to come... oh no.

Roman looked up at him slowly, but no trace of fear could be found on his face. Even, a slight smirk hinting at the corners of his mouth. But, not enough for the old man to notice.

"What sort of media is emitting from those... earphones?" Mr. Berry said, bug-eyed.

Roman held up the earbud that wasn't in his ear, looking at it. "You mean these?" He said.

Mr. Berry simply sighed and rolled his eyes frustratedly. "Yes, 'in those', Mr. Prince. You'd better have an adequate response."

Screaming, crying, perfect storms

I can make all the tables turn

Rose garden filled with thorns

Keep you second guessing, like

"Oh my god, who is she?"

I get drunk on jealousy

But you'll come back each time you leave

'Cus darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.

Roman held the old man's gaze, as if searching for something within his grey-brown orbs. After a moment, he sighed quietly and said, "Taylor Swift."

His response earned a few snickers from other students, to which Mr. Berry scanned the room to see if he could bust two students in one go.

Most of the students thought he looked like Napoleon from the 1954 animated movie based on Animal Farm, a fair comparison. His balding head and fat body gave him an appearance that was quite comparable to a pig.

After a moment of glaring at a few of the known renegades of the class, he returned his focus to Roman. But, this time, he didn't appear as angry; rather, he was smiling gently, but his eyes still held an angry glow. "Since you see no point in listening to my lecture, I'm sure you wouldn't mind showing the class a sufficient outline for your first draft essay? Along with the requirements, of course," the senile man's smirk curled up into a grin as he spoke, tilting his head a bit. Roman merely smirked himself, and stood.

So it's gonna be forever,

Or it's gonna go down in flames

You can tell me when it's over,

If the high was worth the pain

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

'Cus you know I love the players,

And you love the game

Mr. Berry watched in moderate surprise as Roman walked swiftly past the rows of desks to the whiteboard, uncapped an expo marker, and began writing in neatly printed lettering. "Ok, so the final draft is due on Friday," He began, "So you should have your first draft completed by tonight. The essay must have at least five body paragraphs, a minimum of two quotes each-" Virgil watched, shocked, gripping his pencil so that his knuckles paled. "So I hope you've picked out your quotes already. The thesis needs to answer the prompt, obviously. Conclusion should be at least five sentences. So overall, about two or three pages. I'd recommend using this class time to create an outline in your notebook, and typing up a first draft. Have your second draft done tomorrow, and final details on Thursday. And because Mr. Berry is too... behind the times to use Google Classroom, you'll need to print it out and hand it in physically. I'm sure Mr. Berry isn't partial to the trees we're killing, so if you're in Environmental club, I'd not bother complaining." And with this final sentence, Roman touched up his writing on the board and walked back to his seat, never taking out his earbud.

'Cus we're young and we're reckless,

We'll take this way too far

It'll leave you breathless,

Or with a nasty scar

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

But I got a blank space baby...

And I'll write your name.

Mr. Berry was still standing over Roman's desk, now staring down at him with large eyes. He opened his mouth slightly to say something, but was interrupted by another student asking a question. From then on, Mr. Berry ignored Roman, which was an easy feat, as Roman did the same.

After a little over half an hour, the bell rang, and Roman slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked out. Mr. Berry considered asking him why he'd only doodled for the entirety of the class period and not worked on his essay, but his pride got the best of him, and he watched as the young man walked out of the room confidently.

Virgil had slipped out before Roman, and was now pretending to exchange things in his locker, which was unfortunately right next to Roman's. The tall jock walked up to his own locker, earning a scowl from the darker boy.

"What? Enjoy the show I put on in Mr. Diabetes' class?" Roman said, leaning against the lockers as Virgil shut his own. The dark boy just grunted and walked off, feeling Roman's eyes watching as he turned a corner. Roman smirked for the hundredth time that morning when he was gone and turned to open his own locker. When a few girls from the cheer team started to linger, flipping their hair and puffing out their chests, and Roman actively ignored them until he walked past close enough that a few of them let out squeals. He heard the usual murmurs from behind him, "he's so hot," and "I'd kill to be his date to Homecoming." He smirked to himself again, making his way to his Physics class.

...

Virgil spotted is best friend Patton in his usual seat as he walked into his second period Economics class. The boy smiled at Virgil up on seeing him, and waved happily.

"Hello Virgil!! how are you feeling this morning?" He said cheerily as Virgil took the seat next to him, sliding his backpack under the desk.

"Alright I guess." He thought about telling Patton about Roman, but thought better of it; Patton had enough on his plate to worry about as it was.

As for Patton, he had already taken to pulling out his notebook, preparing for a long class of note-taking. Economics was one of the most note-heavy classes either of the boys had, and usually required all their focus. As the teacher stood from his desk and turned on his projector, Virgil could've sworn he saw Patton staring at someone, but as soon as he looked, Patton focused on the teacher, readying his pencil. But, Virgil being the parano- vigilant person he was, followed what he thought was Patton's line of sight to... Logan Montgomery? What? Upon realizing who he had thought Patton was looking at, he brushed it off. There's no way Patton would be looking at him. is there?

[melonkooky]

stolen hearts [kim taehyung]

requested

word count: 2236

genre: mainly fluff with some sprinkles of angst (w/ a side of extreme cliche and cheese)

author’s note: prompts: 17. “are you hurt?” 30. “it’s two a.m., why are you next to me?” were used.

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

it didn’t take long for you and taehyung to become friends. in fact, it practically happened in a heartbeat. it was your second year of high school - sophomore year - when you and taehyung encountered each other. you were running down the sidewalk on your first day because a few of your friends were teasing you about something, you don’t remember. you just remembered them laughing while some tried to chase you.

in that moment, while you were running around the school grounds, you rounded a corner and boom! you collided with a strong, broad chested student, causing both you and him to fall onto the grass. unfortunately, he fell on top of you. you wheezed slightly from the impact. the student who had fallen on top of you realized what had happened and immediately scrambled to get off of you. he sounded so polite, like a gentleman. “oh my god! i’m sorry i didn’t see you coming!”

you heard your friends giggle quietly nearby but you were focused on the boy in front of you. he helped you off your back, gently patting grass off of your clothes, although now your body ached from the collision. you sighed and waited for your breathing to return to normal. “it’s fine. i probably shouldn’t been more careful.”

the boy looked at you with concern. “are you hurt?” he asked with genuine emotion.

you spaced out slightly when you finally got to look at who you had tumbled into. it was kim taehyung. you knew him from a few of your classes as well as seeing him hang out with a popular friend group at school. you immediately shook your head. “no, no. i’m okay. are you okay?”

taehyung smiled, nodding his head. “yeah. you’re y/n, right?”

you nodded proudly. “taehyung.”

taehyung replied with a grin on his face. he was known for his killer smile, his extreme attractiveness, his kind heart. you see, that same day, not only did you develop a tight friendship with kim taehyung, you also developed a crush on him.

now, here you were, senior year, still single and ready to mingle. not that you hated being single. it was the fact that you were still in love with your best friend years later. you didn’t think the crush would last that long. but it didn’t help that you saw him everyday, and was always around him. it was like a magnet; every time you tried to pull away from him, or at least try to get rid of your crush on him, only being closer to him made it harder and stronger. you learned to deal with it. perhaps it is what explained your closeness to taehyung.

things were getting harder for you though. during the past week, the signs of love began to increase. normally you would be fine when taehyung was around you. you would be casual and relaxed, like a normal person would be around their friend. but you noticed now that your heart would beat faster, your face would feel hot, and you began to feel nervous. you never felt nervous around taehyung. he’s taehyung. you could only think that the reason for the new feelings was because you couldn’t stop thinking about your crush on kim taehyung. that was the only explanation.

you sighed, pouting slightly, as you stared at the blank document on your laptop screen. you had a essay to write, but you obviously got distracted. while trying to get yourself to at least type the introduction paragraph, you noticed the library chair next to you get pulled out. you looked up to see taehyung with two drinks in his hands, sliding into the chair next to you. you smiled as he handed you the drink. “any luck?” he asked, gesturing to the computer as he opened his drink.

you shook your head. “i got distracted.”

taehyung took a drink, before looking at you with a confused, and slightly worried, expression. “you’ve been getting distracted a lot more than usual recently.”

you looked away from taehyung, straightening your posture and placing your hands on the keyboard. “have i?” you asked, laughing a bit.

taehyung nodded. “yeah. don’t you remember? a few days ago we went to the convenience store together and i asked if you could get me some chips while i got drinks. i came back to find you staring at a bag of chips. you didn’t seem to know what you were doing.”

you sighed, remembering that moment. you were imagining you and taehyung going to the convenience store as a couple, getting snacks for each other. sure, you and him were already there together. the only part that was missing was the couple part.

“is there anything you want to tell me, y/n?” taehyung asked, turning his body to face you. “you can tell me.”

you looked at him and smiled. “it’s nothing, tae.” he stared at you, knowing fully well that it was not nothing. but you didn’t seem to want to talk about. taehyung respected your decision, and dropped the subject. “alright, then, did you choose to argue with or against the topic?” he asked, changing the subject.

you looked down at your notes next to your computer. “against.”

----

you sighed tiredly as you shut down your laptop and closed it, before resting your arms over the top and laying your head down. your eyes felt heavy. you had been staring at the computer for a few hours now. but it seemed that writing an essay was even harder than ever. not because,well it was an essay, but because your crush was next to you. your mind kept straying away, and it was making your frustrated.

“taehyung,” you called quietly.

taehyung leaned forward having sunken into the chair to get more comfortable. he looked at you. “hmm?”

you exhaled deeply, not believing that you were actually going to ask this question. “do you have a crush on anybody?”

taehyung narrowed his eyes, a lightly laugh coming out his mouth. “i mean, if i did, i would have told you.” he almost sounded offended.

you sighed and nodded. “y/n, seriously, are you okay?”

you weren’t. why were you letting yourself getting so upset over your crush on your best friend? was it that he didn't seem to like you that way? was it that he potentially liked someone else? you shook your head and began to pack up your things in a hurry. “y/n.” taehyung called again, becoming worried about you.

you shook your head. “i just have to get home. i’ve been here far too long than i was planning for.” it was an excuse, of course.

taehyung watched your, worry in his eyes. he was surprised at the way you suddenly were acting. you were fine earlier, or at least he thought. his mind immediately came to conclusions. perhaps you were tired and stressed, perhaps there’s something else on your mind. something that taehyung didn’t know. you always told him what you were feeling, no matter what the circumstance was. like a month ago, you ranted to him about some girl in her class who was always the overachiever and was the teacher’s pet. she had major attitude too. taehyung enjoyed that conversation. you had ranted for a solid ten minutes about everything a girl you didn’t like did. where was the you from a month ago?

taehyung remained in the library for five more minutes. he was still bothered by your behavior, but he tried not to think too much about it. he packed up his own things, although there was hardly anything to pack. he was only there to provide you company and emotional support. the essay you had to write was for a class he didn’t have. after, he left the library and headed home.

----

you arrived home hours ago. your parents were at work still, so the house was to yourself. you ate some dinner and took a nice shower. as night arrived, you climbed into your bed, your window slightly open since there was a light breeze outside. you closed your eyes, letting sleep take over your body.

you woke up to a cold breeze, sending goosebumps over your body. you sighed, turning over to close your window. only that’s when your realized that someone was laying next to you. you were about to scream when a hand covered your mouth, and a face appeared above you. it was kim taehyung. you immediately removed his hand, accidentally squeezing his wrist out of anger. “kim taehyung!” you whisper yelled. “it’s two a.m., why are you next to me?”

taehyung winced slightly at your iron grip on his wrist. “you left your window open, y/n. someone could have easily slipped into here and hurt you or rob you of your things.”

“oh, someone like you?”

taehyung smiled sheepishly. “i’m sorry.” he said quietly, placing his free hand on top of your hand (the hand that was about to snap his wrist).

you gently released his wrist, finding yourself not wanting to let go. his skin was soft and warm. you sat up in your bed, taehyung doing the same. “what are you going here anyway?” you asked your best friend.

“i just want to know what’s wrong? it bothers me to see you so distracted and stressed.”

you pursed your lips, feeling anxious. “i’m scared to tell you.” you admitted to taehyung.

taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed. “y/n, are we not best friends? how many secrets have you told me? how many times have you expressed your negative emotions to me? what makes this one so different?”

you were smiling fainting, your voice barely audible as you spoke this next words. “because taehyung, this time it’s about you.”

you averted your gaze to your bed sheets, before slowly meeting taehyung’s eyes. “what do you mean?” he asked. “have i done something wrong?”

you smiled, “you’ve only stolen my heart.” you replied. sure, it was cheesy, but it lightened the mood. you felt a bit better finally getting it out there, like a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders. you turned to look at your best friend. he was shocked, you could tell. his eyes were wide, his mouth was agape, he seemed frozen.

“taehyung?” you asked.

taehyung stared at you. “so, the reason why you’ve been so distracted recently...was because you are in love with me? i was the one that was causing your stress?”

you blushed, a smile creeping on your face. you nodded. the atmosphere wasn’t still or tense anymore. and your heart, it didn’t feel heavy. taehyung seemed to go into a crisis. “why didn’t you tell me anything before?” taehyung screeched.

your eyes widened and you hurried to cover taehyung’s mouth. “shhh!! you’re going to wake my parents up.”

you removed your hand, laughing a bit at taehyung’s reaction. at least he wasn’t mad about it, that you could accept. perhaps his feelings weren’t the same as yours, but at least you knew things weren’t going to change or be weird between you and taehyung. taehyung’s thoughts were a mess. little did you know, he had been feeling similar feelings recently. you had feelings for him for years, but just until recently, taehyung had developed feelings for you. he just didn’t know what to say or how to say it. he did a damn good job of hiding them.

you stared at taehyung. “y/n,” he began. “i love you.”

your eyes widened. “i swear if you’re messing with me just because i-”

suddenly, taehyung was cupping your cheeks and pulling your face closer to his. seconds later, you felt his lips press onto yours. your first thought was, oh my god, he’s kissing me. but then you wondered, he could probably feel how hot my cheeks are right now. you were immediately responding and kissing him back. you’ve have countless dreams of your and taehyung’s first kiss, but you never imagined it would happen like this. you dreamed cliche moments, like kissing in the rain. but no, your first kiss was with taehyung who had just climbed through your window unannounced, scaring you half to death.

you pulled away, staring straight into taehyung’s eyes. his hands remained on your cheeks, as if he didn’t want to let go. he grinned happily, his box-like grin growing wide. you smiled subconsciously.

suddenly though, he pulled away. “i should probably go.” he whispered shyly.

you shrugged, an innocent, though slightly mischievous look, written on your face. “i mean. if you want to. you’ve stayed the night countless times. i don’t think my parents would be mad if they saw you tomorrow morning.”

taehyung blushed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. he was just confident moments ago, being the one to initiate the kiss. and now, he was a shy boy. “alright, i guess i’ll just text my parents later.”

you smiled happily. “now close the window. it’s cold.”

taehyung closed the window before sliding under the covers with you. you and him laid next to each other, quite awkwardly as a matter of fact. but it wasn’t long before you began dozing off, and attaching yourself to your now boyfriend. he blushed, his arms carefully wrapped around you. soon after attaching himself to you (or more after you attached yourself to him), taehyung fell asleep.

[lycorogue]

Gabriel Agreste: A 3-Part Character Study

Part 1: Why a Character Study?

I actually had to revise this about three or four times before getting to a point where I felt comfortable posting it. Even so, I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this three-part series, or just post the second and third parts as separate entities.

See, this whole thing started off as a simple observation/shower-thought, and just grew. Shower-thought became a mini-essay on how Gabriel SHOULD have been written to be a sympathetic character, and how they got him wrong. As I was writing it, the mini-essay somehow transitioned into a sort of headcanon character-study short story.... thing. It would have been easy enough to post the short by itself, but I felt I would have also needed a bunch of “I'm not condoning Gabe's actions” disclaimers. Likewise, the “how he should have been written” mini-essay could have stood on it's own, but I like tying them all together. In the end, I felt this introduction to explain my train-of-thought would help improve the next two parts of this series.

If you want to just get to the short story that makes up Part 2, you can jump to it here. If you want to just get to my essay about how I feel Gabriel should have been written, you can find Part 3 here. If you do want to know how my mind created either of the above parts, you can read more below the break.

This whole project started on Friday when I was working on a scene where Adrien (as Chat Noir) hears a story of Tom and Sabine having a bonding moment with Marinette when she was only about five. Most people would probably default to “Adrien has no clue what that's like” or “He only had bonding moments like that with his mom.” I was going to have the same thought, but after watching Style Queen and how Gabriel spoke both to and of Emilie, I wondered if he was more affectionate when she was around. Maybe the reason Adrien still craves his father's love so much, and accepting of any shown, is because Gabriel has only been this cold since Emilie “disappeared.” Maybe Adrien is used to his father actually being a decent father. Adrien is smiling in the family portrait with both of his parents. Perhaps Gabriel used to laugh and run around with his son, having water balloon fights or something. Wouldn't that be fun to picture? Adrien even stated in the Adrien’s Double Life webisode that his father has changed since his mother's disappearance.

Something kept pulling me from that thought, though. Adrien still calls his dad Father. If this cold distance - this wall between them - is only a year or so old, why would Adrien be accustomed to calling his dad something so formal if he also calls Nathalie by her first name and his mother Mom. Clearly this isn't a strictly formal family or upbringing.

No, while I'd like to believe that Gabriel was more attentive and nurturing with his son at least while Emilie was around, I still don't see him and Adrien bonding. It still seems too formal a relationship. I've seen too many of my friends refer to the step-father that raised them and bonded with them as Dad while their biological father they barely see is “father.” It's an impersonal sign of reluctant respect.

That being said, Gabriel couldn't possibly be just this cold, cruel person; the epitome of this cruel characteristic shown in Sandboy when he ordered Nooroo to not speak, and sealing the kwami's mouth as “a joke.” (Side note: I’d like to think that Gabriel didn’t realize he had THAT much power, but didn’t want to show weakness by apologizing, so he played it off as “it was just a joke, seriously...”) Anyway, my point is that I don’t believe Gabe could have been this way his whole life. He seems to surround himself with too sweet of people: Nathalie, The Gorilla, and Emilie (based on how Adrien misses her and speaks fondly of her). If the school threw a friggen party to celebrate Chloe moving to NYC (as seen in Malediktator), there's no way the Gabe we know could attract the loyalty (and love) of the sweethearts we know are closest to him. Besides, I know Thomas Astruc must be trying to make Gabriel a sympathetic villain. All of the reveals about Emilie, The Scene between Gabe and Nathalie in the beginning of Queen Wasp, and the rare moments of Gabriel bonding with Adrien; they all seem to be leading us to at least sympathize with Gabriel's plight. Maybe even see ourselves in him: being so in love with someone no one and nothing else matters but them.

This is when I transitioned into my “how he should have been written” mini-essay which takes up Part 3 of this series. Again, if you want to jump to that you can do so here.

So then I tried to move back to my original quandary about Gabriel being so maddeningly in love with Emilie, but still distant from Adrien the kid's whole life. How could that be possible? How is this the same man: so full of love and yet unsure how to showcase it? That's when I thought about someone in my personal life who seemed to answer the enigma.

See, I was fortunate enough to grow up with parents very similar to Tom and Sabine, so a cold, distant, neglectful and/or abusive parent is a foreign concept to me. I knew that Gabriel had to have a reason though. He doesn't hate Adrien. He's not purposely cruel to his son (and we have seen that Gabe’s not above being cruel in order to try to akumatize someone). While it’s clear that Gabriel has no clue how to show it, and is going at parenting in a horrendous way, there are still scenes that prove that he does very much love Adrien and wants him safe.

Sure, Nathalie pointed out in Style Queen how much danger Adrien tends to be put in (if only they truly knew), however, Gabriel has a contingency. If he fails, and Ladybug cleanses the akuma, then she can restore Paris. And any harm that befell Adrien would be reversed. We'll pretend PTSD and other such mental/emotional trauma is also taken care of.... On the flipside, if Hawk Moth wins, then he has both Miraculouses and the power of a god. He can revive Emilie. He can heal or revive Adrien as well. He can do whatever the hell he damn well pleases, and his family will be healed and whole again. So, to him, Adrien isn't REALLY in danger. At most the kid would be scared until the battle is over.  

So what IS the deal? I don't know if this is truly what Astruc is aiming for, but based on that IRL person I spoke of a couple paragraphs ago, I suspect Gabriel acts the way he does and seems so callous towards Adrien because he loves Emilie TOO much.

In the latest episodes we’ve seen more and more of Gabriel’s drive for being Hawk Moth. In the first Origins episode we are introduced to Nooroo via Gabe closing the Moth broach with a picture of Emilie inside. In the Christmas special we know that Gabe is more closed off than usual due to the loss of his wife. Zombizou closes the akuma portion of the episode with HM stating that he’s certain to have his wish granted if love is so powerful. We see him visit Emilie in Style Queen to talk about how much he misses her, and how much he's trying to get her back. Finally, in Queen Wasp we witness the anguish Gabriel feels in “failing” her, as well as his sincere belief that Adrien would understand everything Gabe is doing once Emilie is back home and with them again.

Long and short? It is painfully obvious that Emilie was this man's sun and moon. She was his world; his heart; his everything. He is but a shell without her. Nathalie tries to be his conscious and compassion, but it doesn’t have the same affect due to his blind, tunnel vision love for his wife. It SHOULD be sweet. Key word there though is SHOULD.

Again, I go into more about this in my “How Gabriel/Hawk Moth Should Have Been Written” essay in Part 3.

Getting back to my IRL example. I know a man whose wife was his everything. You wouldn't realize this at first, because the two of them were like the old couple neighbors from 1950s sitcoms. The Bickersons. Stick around long enough though, and you’d see that the wife was the pumice stone that filed off the husband’s rough edges. She truly was the light of his life, his everything, and even his compassion towards other human beings, which is now very much how I picture Gabriel and Emilie.

The wife of this IRL couple originally thought she couldn’t have children. Then, as a “honeymoon gift,” she got pregnant with her first. Of course this made the baby girl their little miracle. The wife doted on her daughter. She knew no love greater than that of being a mother. Her attention was mostly - and appropriately - aimed at her child. Unfortunately, this made the husband jealous.

He wouldn’t say as much, and I know he tried to not act upon it. He tried bonding with his daughter, and mostly did a good job. She does have pleasant memories of him. However, as she grew up, and her mother became her best friend - and vise versa – the husband became more jealous and salty. He loved his child, but he wasn’t as compassionate or empathetic as his wife was. His job with this young woman was to raise, to teach, and to protect. Not to bond. His wife was the only one worthy of bonding with. The rest of humanity sucks.

Thinking about this man was the initial inspiration for this whole trek to try to explain Gabriel, and potentially what Astruc had planned for him. I could see Gabriel being very much the same way: an overly devoted husband, and a descent father, even if he wasn't one that really bonded with his son.

As I was writing out more of this essay on how I now picture Gabriel as this man I know IRL, I realized it had a sort of story element to it, so I ran with it. You can read my pseudo-short about my new headcanon of Gabriel and his relationship with his family prior to us meeting him in the series in Part 2.

Please know that in no way am I condoning his behavior both as a villain and as a parent. I'm not even really condoning his actions as a husband. It does help me, though, to better understand him as a character. To understand why he acts the way he does.

For those interested, I'll see you in Part 2.

[abysscontemporary]

The 2020 Comedy Club Shutdown

The comedy club shutdown of 2020 may one day be known as the Great Vanishing Act of the Coronavirus Era. The disappearance of stand-up comics and live audiences, engaged in the conjuring up of mirth and laughter at intimate indoor venues, has brought a halt to a social economy, marked by the exchange of wit and performative delivery for levity and amnesia of ill fortune.

If you think this opening paragraph is unlike the set-up of a live, onstage comedy bit, you’re right.

It illustrates the situation live comedy is in today.

The spoken word, brought to you live and in-person, is very much different from and livelier than the written or mediated word, and the absence of live stand-up comedy puts into sharp relief how its vibrancy is noticeably different from what has succeeded it (e.g., essays, audio and/or video shows, posts on social media, etc.)  Live comedy and its brilliance are sorely missed.

To take a closer look at the distinctions between the conditions of comedy before mid-March 2020 and the lockdown that came afterwards, this writer conferred with a selection of New York City-based comedians in August 2020.  They reflected on what their concepts and practices were like before the pandemic and what their outlooks are for the future.  All were elegant in expressing how the art of unseriousness is serious business.  Furthermore, they portrayed what it’s like to go from being specifically a stand-up comic to being – more broadly – a comedy artist.

What was your routine before the COVID-19 lockdown in terms of writing, rehearsing, performing, pursuing projects, and booking opportunities?

SASHA SRBULJ:  Before the lockdown, I would typically conduct writing sessions with my closest comedy buddies towards the beginning of the week and perform one to three shows at various spots in Manhattan throughout rest of the week.  In between all of this, there would be dozens of discussions with other comics; we’d brainstorm, rehearse, and generate booking opportunities for each other.  This weekly cascade of stuff could all fall under the rubric, “pursuing projects.” Also, by hanging out together during the week, we’d find ways of spurring creativity and ideas.

Since the start of the lockdown, almost all of these in-person activities have stopped, and they’ve become much more rare because the clubs are closed.  We do try to maintain as much online and text-messaging contact as possible - but that's only one element, and it can’t replace the whole experience.

VERONICA GARZA:  Before the lockdown, I was performing almost every day, doing shows or going to open mics. If I wasn’t at a show I was booked on or at a mic, I was supporting a show.  Also, each and every day, I would try to write or to come up with at least three premises to work on.  January and February 2020 were actually really busy months for me, and I was very excited to see where this year would go for me in comedy.

EMILY WINTER:  Before Covid, I'd spend all day writing at home for my various writing jobs and script pursuits, then I'd do standup at night.  I'd usually write new jokes on my way to shows or just work out new ideas when I got on stage.

CAROLYN BUSA:  I’m realizing a lot of my routines happened for me on the train, and that’s the same for writing.  Either on the way to a gig or on the way home from one.  Those were always the times I was most inspired.  Especially after experiencing how a joke hit.

After gigs, I would usually come home from a spot and fall asleep with my notebook in my bed, trying to perfect a bit about submissive sex right before bedtime.  

The same goes for seeing a good show.  I’d know a show was really good when I’d come home inspired and want to write a bunch of new premises.

Booking opportunities kinda happened naturally at countless weekly and monthly shows.  Surely, some months were slower than others.  (Cute, how I thought THAT was slow compared to now). During those times, I focused more on writing; my own show, Side Ponytail; or pursuing open mics.

I feel like I always have and always will have a million project ideas spinning in my head, but, without money or deadlines behind most of them, I complete and pursue them more slowly than I’d like to.

DARA JEMMOTT:  I was really just moving and flying by the seat of my pants - taking any and every gig to make it work.  I would do most of my writing on stage.  With working 10 hours a day and then doing two to three shows a night, it was very difficult to sit down and find time to write.  However, quarantine has allowed for me to write way more and in different areas.

MARC GERBER:  I never made a set time to sit down and write, the way a novelist or a journalist might.  My jokes come to me spontaneously, either through stream-of-consciousness - while daydreaming, that is - or in conversation with others.

My jokes generally start off as amorphous drafts.  I have either a punchline that needs a strong opening premise or a premise that will need a strong punchline.  About 10% to 20% of the bits that I come up with make it to the stage.

Before the lockdown, I would meet with comedian friends, and we’d polish and improve our jokes together. I’d rehearse only before a big show – such as one for recording an album or headlining a major gig.  By this point, doing a 10- to 15-minute set had become rote.  If I had a brand new bit, I might rehearse it in isolation several times before it performing on stage.

I typically don’t pursue projects or booking opportunities.  Primarily, I am reluctant to ask people for opportunities, unless they are big, and I am ready for them.  For example, I recorded my first album in November after aggressively pursuing a record label and convincing them to produce the album and release it. (Happily, the album debuted at Number One on the iTunes comedy chart and it’s been on heavy rotation on a major Sirius station).  In terms of getting spots and other smaller opportunities, I generally take what I’m offered if they’re legitimate.  However, I don’t ask for much, and I don’t implore people to put me on their shows. I think my approach is tactful.

ROBYN JAFFE:  I stepped on stage for the first time just nine months before the comedy clubs and the city shut down, and I quickly became hooked.

I’m a teacher by day, and, over the summer, I was planning to explore more open mics, bringer shows, and auditions because the comedy scene doesn’t lend itself to the preferred early bedtime of someone, like myself, who works in a school during the rest of the year.

How have you responded to the lockdown?  Did you initially see it as brief hiatus?  Did you make it an opportunity to pivot to new projects?  What have you missed most about stand-up comedy, so far?

SASHA SRBULJ:  The lockdown was a shock, and, within the first three months, the only shows I did were on Zoom.  I've since seen people doing park shows, parking lot shows - anything to fill the void. Aside from Zoom shows, I've done shows on Twitch, which was new for me.

I’ve done game-type, interactive audience shows.  (There are online games now that are comedy-centric.  An algorithm throws out some phrases and premises, and then, several comics try to make jokes out of them. The audience votes, participates, comments, etc.)

It's a format that provides a different kind of audience feedback.  On Zoom shows, you generally can't hear the audience and mostly can't see them; so, it's hard to gauge and impossible to improvise much.  The Zoom shows are improving, though.  Even in five months, there's been tremendous progress.

I've pivoted to writing more - both bits for the stage and for writing in general.  The time has also given me an opportunity to strategize the narrative for my next special/album.  Planning basically.  It's an opportunity to think things through deliberately.

What I've missed most about comedy was my friends.  I thought it would be the laughter or the crowds and my own douchey desire to be at the center of attention; but what I actually miss the most is my friends.

(Note:  My douchey desire to be at the center of attention is running in close contention.)

VERONICA GARZA:  Overall, I’ve been generally concerned about my health, so I’ve done what I can to stay inside and avoid crowds.

I took the whole thing as an opportunity to work on other stuff.  I finally made a full draft of my solo show about my dating men and even performing it over Zoom for two festivals.  I have worked on an entire new half-hour of comedy.  I’ve also considered this as an opportunity to work on scripts I’d intended to write.

I miss performing live. I miss seeing the audience - or even the lack thereof - and figuring out what I’ll do on stage.  I miss seeing other comics and having that one drink after the show where we bitch about a show or a venue, but also just catch up. I noticed shows popping up randomly in New York City, and, honestly, I don’t think it’s safe enough for them yet.

EMILY WINTER:  I absolutely thought it would be a brief hiatus, and I was excited.  As both a writer and a standup, I feel like I never have enough time to dedicate to many of my writing projects.  I saw this as the Universe forcing me to concentrate on my writing projects for a while.  Since coronavirus, I've written two new pilots, rewrote an old one, wrote a movie with my husband, and got a book deal.  I’m about halfway through the book-writing process.  My two new pilots still need a lot of work, though.

I do miss stand-up. I miss the feeling of connection that you have when a set is going well. There's just this beautiful buzz in the air.  It's magical.

CAROLYN BUSA:  Oh brother. This is THE question isn’t it? Are you waiting for me to say, “God, I miss the mic!!  Get me on the stage!  My blood and bones need it!!  Punchlines! Laughter!  Applause!”  Not quite.

I definitely did see it as a brief hiatus but kinda like how I adjust to traveling super quickly. (Every hotel or Air BnB feels like home within hours.)  After a short time, NOT getting on stage felt freakishly normal.  It kinda freaked me out and made the last ten years of my life feel like a fever dream. Maybe I'm already on a ventilator.

I, of course, miss having a great set, applause, and people telling me I'm funny.  I miss the thrill of finding the line that makes whatever wild idea I have relate to the majority of a crowd.  Or, if not relate, at least understand where I'm coming from.

I also miss parts of the socialization that came with comedy.  My good friends, those that I'd see every now and then, the bartenders, the Barry’s!  My social life was my day job and comedy, both of which are now gone.

Admittedly, there's a part of me that feels relief.  The hustle has really beaten me up, so to kinda put that aside does not feel horrible. I thought I'd have more pockets of success at this point in my comedy career, and, even though I really like who I am as a comedian, not having to prove it for a few months feels ok.

So,...(shrugs shoulders)   I'm still writing, and I'm still making goofy videos, but, more importantly, I'm really trying to figure out what makes me completely happy.

DARA JEMMOTT:  At first, I responded to the lockdown with annoyance and fear, and, then, I enjoyed the fact I got to sit down for a second.  Afterwards, I had to grieve a life I once knew.

I am getting to enjoy doing nothing because who knows when that will come again?  I did realize that maintaining my mentals would be a top priority and that it was important for me to find projects to distract and dive into. So, I wrote my first pilot.  Never would I have had time to do that before.

MARC GERBER:  I initially saw the lockdown as a brief hiatus.  Fortunately, I had my album coming out, and it gave me something to promote and look forward to.  The success of the album’s release was encouraging, and I was able to do a number of online shows to promote it.

Since then, I have focused mainly on my other career as a psychologist, as the online shows are somewhat underwhelming, and I have been living outside of the city and thus, not getting the opportunity to do any of the outdoor shows that clubs and independent producers have been putting on.

What I miss most about stand-up comedy is the camaraderie of my comedian friends. Of course, there’s also nothing better than making 150 people laugh on a Friday night.

ROBYN JAFFE:  I wanted to keep up with comedy-writing and joke-sharing during the lockdown, so I started a Twitter account.  I also began to post a video to my Instagram account every Sunday night, and I call it “Pajamedy Sunday.”  I may not have been able to get on stage all of these months, but I’m trying to make people laugh during a difficult time.

I did one Zoom show but otherwise haven’t performed.

What do you envision yourself doing before comedy venues fully re-open?  After comedy venues fully re-open, what do you most look forward to doing?  When live stand-up comedy fully returns, what do you expect the dynamic will look like between you and your live audience?

SASHA SRBULJ:  While comedy clubs are closed, I hope I use my time productively.  Aside from ironing out some aspects of my set, there's a writing project I want to try out and see if it has legs.

After comedy venues fully re-open, I am most looking forward to performing and seeing the community come back, which I hope it does.  This lockdown has lasted long enough that things may not just snap back into place like before.  I'm hoping that the thirst for comedy and just fun in general helps bring the community back quickly.

Frankly, until we have full herd immunity - either via a vaccine or just pandemic spread - I can't imagine things going back to the way they were.  Brick-and-mortar comedy clubs are physically intimate spaces, especially in New York City, and laughter is an involuntary response that can spread aerosols. Unfortunately, comedy clubs, along with bars and night clubs, will be among the last establishments to reopen.

In the meantime, outdoor venues, virtual shows, and socially distanced shows are our only way. Once it's safe again, I think people will resume their lives as before.  It may take a while for 100% of the people to be comfortable again, but, once the green light is given, most people will revert to the norm.

I initially thought this would permanently scar an entire generation of people and scare them from social interaction.  However, as it turns out, the hardest thing about this crisis was getting people NOT to socially interact.  So, I think when it will finally be safe, people will come back.

With both the positive and negative aspects of what this means, “You can't change people.”

VERONICA GARZA:  If comedy venues even survives, I’m sure it will be a while before I return to live performances.  I very much look forward to performing, but I also don’t want to rush to return to the stage and putting myself at risk.

I’m not that selfish. When live comedy returns, I’m sure it will be lovely.  This current pause we are in has made everyone eager for some laughter, so I look forward to when we can safely do it in-person.  As for now, I’m enjoying doing it safely over Zoom.

EMILY WINTER:  I've been hesitant to perform at outdoor shows because I'm so immersed in my writing right now.  I'm going to hold out a little longer while I re-work pilots and finish my book.

Once venues re-open, I'm looking forward to that brilliant feeling of connecting with strangers and feeling the collective energy in the room.  I think that will be more difficult since I imagine people will be sitting farther apart.  It's hard to create one unified energy when people aren't physically close together, and I worry about that.

CAROLYN BUSA:  I will continue to think about and explore how to use my creativity to maintain my happiness!  Writing, when I'm inspired; creating, when I want; and exploring other paths, possibly.

I've been dipping my toe back into writing stand-up, but it's been SLOW.  I don't want to pressure myself too much or even say, “Put pressure on myself.”  (Oh god, I hate brains).

I haven't done any outdoor performances, but, from what I hear, people are happy to hear jokes and happy to laugh.  I'd expect that would be the same for when comedy fully returns.

I honestly don't know what to predict though.  Every time I try to think of what something in the future will look like, I suddenly need a nap.  My hope with this worldwide slowdown is that, in the future, comedy can be separated from those who want to hustle and work hard from 8 pm to 1am and those who want to do it from 5 pm to 11 pm.

DARA JEMMOTT:  I'm really not thinking about "fully-re-open" and what that looks like or when that will come.  I'm not going to put my life on hold and resume it after quarantine.  Folks got to learn to live their life regardless and make the best of the situation.

I've been doing plenty of Zoom shows and outdoor shows, so I expect the dynamic to be the same. Uneasily and with trepidation, I’ve been happy to be out of the house and around people.  But, "after quarantine" - I stopped using those words a long time ago.

MARC GERBER:  I have been listening to the experts (e.g. virologists, epidemiologists) and not the politicians since this began.  I knew by mid- to late February that comedy venues were going to close down.  Before one of my shows in late February I posted, “Come see my while you still can!”  Many people thought I was a joking, but I was being deadly serious.

According to the experts, this is going to be a long fight, particularly because of how poorly the federal response was in controlling the virus.  I think comedy is going to come back very gradually.

Before the lockdown I was getting regularly booked at some of the best clubs in New York City. However, there are many, many comics ahead of me on the seniority list.  I believe that for the next several years, if not longer, I will have fewer opportunities to perform than I’d had before the lockdown.  I will have to find a way to engage myself creatively without getting on stage as much. That might include podcasting and writing. I am still figuring it out.

I feel fortunate to have a stable career as a psychologist. While comedians won’t be in high demand for a long time, psychologists certainly will be.

ROBYN JAFFE:  Now, I attend comedy shows outside to enjoy live comedy and shamelessly talk to comics before or after the show. I hope to pick up where I left off whenever that becomes possible!

Comedy can be transformational, and these stand-up comics are stand-up people.  Reading what they’ve said suggests that hearing what they will say on one stage or another will be something to look forward to.

Carolyn Busa:  http://www.carolynbusa.com Veronica Garza:  https://twitter.com/veros_broke Marc Gerber:  https://800pgr.lnk.to/GerberIN Robyn Jaffe:  https://twitter.com/rjaffejokes Dara Jemmott:  http://www.instagram.com/chocolatejem and  https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/comedians-for-hire/id1448386062 Sasha Srbulj:  https://sashasrbulj.com/ Emily Winter:  https://www.emilywintercomedy.com

[lilixloveswriting]

Prompt: Delirium

Summary: Peter decides Monster is a good replacement for his ADHD meds.

Characters: Peter Maximoff, Hank McCoy, Charles Xavier, Jubilation Lee (mentioned), Wanda Maximoff (mentioned)

TW: angst, hallucinations sort of? Caffeine overdose

Word Count: 2,031

Peter tossed his fifth energy drink in the trash can, barely making it in the basket. He swiftly popped open another, taking a swig. He knew his stomach would hate him for it later, but it was hard staying up for 48 hours straight and the caffeine helped him to focus. And god, did Peter need to focus. 

His grades were slipping. Badly. The professor had informed him that if he couldn’t get them up in two weeks, then they’d have to call his mom. Peter, being Peter, put everything off, and now it was 2 am on the Friday of the second week and he was panicking. He’d locked himself up in his room for the past two days, only emerging to sneak Jubilee’s energy drinks from the fridge. Now he was staring down at a blank piece of paper, trying to figure out how to write two five-paragraph essays before 8 am. 

He looked at the clock. 2:03 am.

A groan escaped his lips. Time seemed to move so slowly when he was doing school work, and yet somehow he still didn’t have enough. Peter picked up his pencil, fully intending to write at least a few words, but as soon as the lead touched the paper, his letters looked though they’d been through an earthquake. The speed at which his hands were shaking made him feel as though he was vibrating. It made him feel sick, but he took another sip. He had to get his grades up, no matter what. Or at least convince the professor not to call his mother. She had enough to worry about, not including Peter’s grades.

Peter’s mom was always concerned about him; whether or not he was eating enough, if he was getting enough sunlight, the state of his mental health. She dedicated her entire life to Peter and his sister, and boy, he did not make it easy for her. He knew this, and he didn’t want to make her worry about him now that he was out of the house. It wasn’t fair.

But concentrating was so. Hard. The surplus of caffeine in his system was the only thing keeping him from getting distracted, but that didn’t mean he was thinking clearly. He was tired, oh so tired, and it didn’t help that he’d run out of his meds two days ago. His eyes felt like they would slam shut if he didn’t hold them wide open all the time. Peter bounced his leg to keep himself awake, this, in turn, caused pretty much everything in his room to vibrate and he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d burned a hole in the carpet with his shoe. He just hoped he wasn’t bothering any of the other students.

Peter lifted his pencil from the paper. “According to.”

Lovely.

He looked at the clock again. 2:14 am

Peter sighed loudly, throwing his pencil down. Maybe he just needed something to eat. Yeah, that was it.

He stood up quickly, and the entire world spun. The ground tilted under his feet and he stumbled back into his chair. He briefly saw the ceiling fan spinning and wondered when he had turned it on before his head hit the floor.

When Peter came to, he had no idea where he was. The room was bright, the glow searing pain into his eyes. He couldn’t move a muscle, feeling as though he was chained down by bricks, but at the same time, he felt light, like he was floating. 

A feminine voice rang in his ears. It was soft and gentle, a bit concerned, maybe. His eyes rolled around in his skull, searching for the owner.

“Wanda…?” Peter mumbled, his eyelids fluttering rapidly. The muttering that he had been hearing stopped, replaced by soft footsteps. 

“Good morning, Peter.” A different voice said. Peter recognized it, but he just couldn’t place who it was. Where was he?

Peter didn’t respond, unable to make his mouth move.

“Can you hear me?” The voice asked, and Peter twitched his nose, eyes still shut.

The next thing he knew, he was being blinded by what he just assumed was the sun; he couldn’t think of anything else that would be that bright.

“Your pupils are responding well.” Peter heard clattering before the voice spoke again. “I can’t tell if you’re cognitively responsive or not, but on the off chance that you are, your dopamine levels are extremely low.” Something cold ran over his head and he shivered, “No fever, that’s good.”

He continued to talk, but Peter couldn’t comprehend any of it. He still didn’t know who was talking to him, or where he was, and he felt as though he was spinning on a carousel. So in other words, he felt sick.

“Stop…” He mumbled out.

The voice laughed a little. “Stop talking? You sound like Charles. Who I should call, by the way. Maybe he can do something about the state that you’re in.” 

Peter pinched his eyebrows. He felt as though his consciousness was floating around in his mind, unable to ground itself to anything.

“Where…?” He tried to form a sentence, but nothing was working.

“Where is what, Peter?”

This was all too surreal. The floaty feeling, the blinding light, the disembodied voice. He must be dead. He must have overdosed on caffeine or something. How stupid he was...this would kill his mother. “Where...Wanda…”

“I’ll be right back, alright?” The voice said, slowly fading away.

Flying, spinning, tumbling through empty space. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t call for help. It was dark and cold, just like how it felt before. Except for this time, he was alone. All alone, all alone.

~~~

Peter slowly opened his eyes and stared straight ahead. It was different this time, not so bright, just fuzzy. He rolled his eyes, desperately trying to get them to focus. 

“I’ve got something.” More voices. It wasn’t so echoey anymore, just British.

British? The professor!

Peter blinked rapidly and rolled onto his side, still unseeing. He couldn’t die. He couldn’t do that to his mother.

“Die…” He breathed shutting his eyes closed again, squeezing them this time. “Don’t…! Can’t…”

“Peter.” 

No. The ringing. It was like he was in a tunnel again. He had to get out. He had to. He just...needed something. Something to ground himself. Something to pull him back.

“Peter!”

Peter inhaled sharply, his eyes flew open and his body went shooting upwards. He screamed and shook, his eyes still unfocused, but he was here. He could feel.

“There you are, there you are.” The voice came again, much clearer this time. Peter looked to his right to see the professor, leaning forward in his chair with one hand squeezing his own, the other on Peter’s back. Human contact seemed to be enough to bring him back. “You’re alright. Just breathe.”

His body shook uncontrollably, and he balled his fists, digging his fingernails into his palms, just to make sure he was really there.

“Where...where am I?” He panted as his eyes finally began to focus properly.

“You’re in the nurse’s office.” The professor said, rubbing his hand reassuringly on Peter’s back.

Hank grumbled and pulled up to them. “I’m not a nurse.” He said, shining a small light into Peter’s eyes. The boy jerked away, lifting a hand up to shield them. 

“Well, you’re the closest thing we’ve got.” The professor said.

“That still doesn’t make me one. I’m a doctor of biological sciences, Charles. I don’t specialize in medical-”

“Hank.”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking.”

Hank sighed and unwrapped the velcro that he had strapped around Peter’s arm. “Your blood pressure is spiked. I’m assuming it’s from all the energy drinks.”

“Uh…” Peter blinked, flashing back to all of the Monsters lying in his trash can. “I only had like...a couple.”

“Of course,” Hank said, jotting down something on a piece of paper. “That must be why there was so much caffeine detected in your blood samples.” 

“You...took blood samples?” Peter asked. “Am I dying?”

Hank chuckled a bit. “No, you’re not dying. Sleep-deprived and high on sugars, but not dying.” He turned back to Peter. “When was the last time you slept?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “Uh...Wednesday?” He guessed, then nodded. “Morning.”

“Jesus Christ.” The professor coughed.

“What happened?” Peter asked.

“Jubilee found you passed out on the floor,” Hank explained. “She said you weren’t waking up, so she dragged you here.”

“You were delirious.” The professor added. “Hank said you were talking in your sleep.”

“You kept mentioning a ‘Wanda.’ Who is that?” Hank asked.

Everything was still a bit blurred, but Peter heard that question quite clearly. His heart, which had been pounding violently suddenly seemed to stop and the sickening taste of bile climbed up his throat. “What?”

“You said-”

“No one.” Peter interrupted, swallowing thickly. “I don’t know.” His voice shook and he looked away, praying that the professor wouldn’t try to dive into his subconscious. “Did you call my mom?”

“Not yet-”

“Don’t,” Peter said, earning a surprised look from both of his elders. “Please. I don’t want to worry her.” He added, fiddling with his thumbs.

The professor looked at Hank who gave him a little nod and ended up wheeling out of the room before the doctor turned back to Peter. He sighed, he was definitely calling his mom.

“Well, how are you feeling now?”

“Fine,” Peter answered quickly. “Just tired.”

“That’s to be expected, considering you haven’t slept properly in the last 50 hours. Your dopamine levels are also dramatically low. Any idea why?” Hank asked and Peter blinked.

“I...don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a neurotransmitter or a chemical in your brain which sends signals to the nerve cells in your muscles.” Peter scrunched up his face in confusion and Hank sighed. “It’s a large component of your motor function, it basically makes sure you can move properly.”

“Are you sure you’re not a nurse?” Peter asked and Hanks placed his fingers on his temples.

“Peter.”

“Yeah, no. I don’t know why they’d be low.” He shrugged.

"Nothing?" Hanks rested his elbows on his knees. "This is a safe space, Peter. You won't get into any trouble."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking if I do drugs?"

Hank pressed his lips together. "...Do you?"

"No." He smirked slightly. "I don't."

Hank nodded, satisfied. 

"Well," Peter placed a hand on his chin and Hank snapped his head back in his direction. "I take Adderall. It's a prescription."

"Ah. And when was the last time you took it?"

"Uhhh, I don't know. Like the other day?"

"What day?" Hank asked.

"Ugh, um…" Peter thought back in the week. His brain was mush and all he could remember was the studying that he had done. "T-Tuesday?"

Hank nodded. "That would do it." He picked up his pencil and began to scribble something down. "Any other withdrawal symptoms?"

"I dunno. What are the symptoms?"

"Fatigue, nausea, depression, etc." Hank listed off a few and Peter looked to the side. 

"Uhh…anxiety? But that's sorta normal."

"Okay," He clicked his pen. "I'll have to call your mother to order more for you. You can't quit cold turkey, like that, it's not healthy."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm not an addict or anything."

"Doesn't matter," Hank said, placing his clipboard down. "Your body is used to having it in your system, that's why your brain isn't producing enough dopamine." He tilted his head. "Also because you haven't slept since Wednesday."

"Yeah, yeah." Peter hung his head.

"You'll be fine, you just need to sleep. And continue to take your Adderall."

Peter groaned. "But…I have to finish my homework or else-"

"I'm sure we can figure something out." Hank gave him a small smile. "Get some sleep, Peter. And don't come back to class for at least 24 hours." 

Peter sighed and stood up, making his way toward the door. 

"Oh and," Hank started, "Watch out for Jubilee. She was going to kick your butt for stealing her drinks before she saw your lifeless body."

Peter laughed and shook his head. "Roger that."

[anabioun]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

Repost, don’t reblog !

– BASICS.

NAME:  kyra. PRONOUNS:  she / her / hers. SEXUALITY:  lesbian. TAKEN OR SINGLE:  taken.

– THREE FACTS.

1. i own a rabbit. he’s a mini lop, his name is bones, he’s kind of an asshole.  2. i became a black belt in tae kwon do when i was sixteen. i haven’t done formal classes in years, since high school and then uni got in the way, but it was fun while i was doing it. my parents are both black belts, too, and my dad teaches classes now.  3. i have a thing for buying a lot of copies of my favourite book. i’ve got at least four copies of jekyll and hyde and four or five copies of frankenstein. i don’t... really know why i do that. sometimes it’s because one is an antique and various others are critical editions with different analysis in it, but sometimes it’s just because i liked the cover. i have no good excuse. 

– EXPERIENCE.

HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?):  uhhhh. probably about eight years overall, if you count the stuff i did in the back of a notebook during classes with my friend.  PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED:  email, ff.net, forums, skype, facebook, tumblr. BEST EXPERIENCE: probably just all of the nights that i’ve stayed up late with people, excitedly planning and discussing characters and coming up with plots. i love that feeling. 

– MUSE PREFERENCES.

FEMALE OR MALE:  males are what i end up playing more, i suppose, but i’m more than happy to interact with either.  FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: angst, probably. fluff just gets really boring, especially with this character --- as mean as it sounds, most people don’t... do it well. people want fluff right off the bat with their character automatically being so sweet and kind and loving towards the being, which is hugely unrealistic and erases a huge part of his character. he’s supposed to terrify people. i don’t mind if some fluff comes along much later, but it’s gotta be done right, and it rarely is. and as for smut, uh --- who’s gonna want to have sex with an eight foot tall guy made out of actual corpses? kind of gross.  PLOTS OR MEMES: plotting. i really don’t like memes, to be honest. i almost never reblog them, and if i do, i end up not sure what to write for 70% of the ones that get sent in. i really prefer plotting.  LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: i prefer short, to be honest. i used to be embarrassed about this, but honestly, it’s just my preference. i’m doing a degree in literature --- i’m writing massive essays constantly, and when i get home, i really want to just have short and enjoyable things to write. i don’t want to feel like every single thread is a 6+ paragraph behemoth that i have to spend an hour on. if it’s for the right plot, i can enjoy that, but if it’s a bunch of ridiculously long things that are unplotted and just feel like work to make that long? nope. i get so frustrated when it’s just a basic interaction, not anything deep or plotted, that’s been stretched way too long, and i have to come up with five or six paragraphs describing how my character is saying hello. don’t like it, won’t do it. it’s not a matter of ability, it’s just... preference.  BEST TIME TO WRITE: morning, tbh. morning in the uk is usually when people in america and canada (so most people on tumblr) are asleep, and i find that i can write a bit better when i don’t have people distracting me on skype and discord. evenings are for fun chatting and plotting when everyone’s online --- mornings are for finishing what i need to do before people start to get on.  ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): good god, no. i don’t think we possibly could be more different. he’s a gigantic horrifying corpse monster from the 1700s. i guess if there’s any similarity between us, it’s that we’re both too obsessive about pleasing people. 

TAGGED BY: @dimorrte TAGGING: @divineadmixture / @loveruined / @subsolanus / @legalcut / anyone else who’d like to do it. 

[immabewriting]

Five Teachers Walk Into A Bar... -Chapter 8

A/N: Holy crap on a catapult!!! I updated again!!! Ah!!!! LOL anyway heres another update, as always read and review and let me know what you think! And for those of you wondering when we’ll see Henry and Penelope again don’t worry, they’ll come next chapter! ;) Anyway heres the next chap!!

Mahira sighed as she cataloged the findings into the computer. It was a slow day, she had finished her analysis of the findings, ate lunch, cleaned a storage closet that was slightly dusty, and now she was cataloging everything. And it was only 1:30! She groaned and slumped in her chair. What else was she going to do? She was here till 4 and there was nothing left to do!

“Bored?” a voice asked her. She turned to see Dr. Cho standing behind her smiling.

“A little sorry,” she apologizes. He laughs and shakes his head, “Don’t worry I like my job and I still get bored sometimes.” He pulls out a chair and sits next to her, “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What is it Dr. Cho?” she asks sitting up.

“I told you, call me John. Dr. Cho is what my students call me.”

“Right sorry! What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, I wanted to know if you were interested in a project I’ve been working on.” He tells her.

“What is it about?”

“Well, the department wants to do a sort of cultural exchange thing especially considering what’s going on in the world today. And I thought well we already have a cultural festival every year so why not do something different right? And I thought maybe if we all brought a stranger or someone we didn’t know as well into our lives and showed them our cultures and kind of broadened their horizons it would be a cool, academic way of getting to know one another.” He explains.

“That sounds really cool! It would be interesting not only for white people but people of other ethnicities to experience other cultures. I sort of feel we all are in our separate bubbles and need to sometimes expand our reach and our view.” She tells him.

“So, would you want to do help me with it?” he asks.

“Yea I’d love to! But um, what exactly do I have to do?” She questions.

“Oh right! Well first, you need to find a subject or someone to share this experience with. Next, I wanted to debut this whole project in September, when we usually hold our historic seminars with the museums and important people so this project will span a couple of months. But I think six months is a good enough time for immersive experience. What do you think?” he says.

“Six months sounds good, It’s kind of perfect because my sister is getting married and Ramadan is happening soon too.

“Perfect! Now all you need is someone to take to these things.” He says. “And I don’t count.” He adds.

Her smile fell. Crap, how was she supposed find someone so quickly? Sana couldn’t help because she was Indian and while they had different religions, they had been friends for years. She knew everything about Mahira’s life. She couldn’t ask anyone at work because she hated everyone at work and she was going to quit. Wait! The guy who always came to the bar! What was his name? Tom!

“Mahira? Did you hear what I said?” John asks snapping her back to reality.

“Huh?”

“I said I just want weekly reports/interviews about what you guys do. You can’t be just taking them to these things and not write anything down got it?”

“Oh! Yea of course! Um, would other teachers count?” she asks.

“I don’t see why not, you’re not a student.”

“Great! I think this project will be fun!” she gushes. They chatted about a few quick things like deadlines and reports before she headed over to the English department to find Mr. Hiddleston.

“Alright Andy take care, and don’t forget to indent your paragraphs please!” Tom called as the student rushed out of his office. He sighed and went back in to grade papers. It seemed all he did was grade papers and they weren’t even the good ones by his Classics students no he was grading the English 100 papers. The terribly written English 100 papers. Why were they so bad? Why didn’t these kids know how to spell? And why did Bridget feel the need to turn in everything a day late with the excuse of getting sick? He was a college student once, getting sick meant being drunk or hung over! And he still turned in his essays on time! There was a knock on his door interrupting him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he murmurs. The door opens and—oh my god. It was her. Mahira was here. In his office! Was this a mistake? No, it couldn’t have been! Right? “Mahira?” he says befuddled.

“Hi, um is this a bad time?” she asks.

“No no! What is it?” he asks. She closes the door behind her and takes a seat. Taking the extra few seconds to figure out what to say to him.

“Um, so uh,” she stutters out. “So, Dr. Cho is doing this project and I wanted to know if you’d like to help?” she explains.

“What is it about?” he inquires. She explained the project in full detail as Dr. Cho—John—had told her. At the end of her spiel she looked at him and asked, “Would you be interested in being my partner for this?”

“It sounds amazing, I would love to be your partner. But, I thought you hated me.” He says.

“I don’t hate you! I just… I think you have some interesting qualities.” She said. That was a stretch.

“Interesting qualities?”

“You’re a serial womanizer who hits on women half your age and doesn’t stop talking.” She confesses.

“Serial womanizer?!” he exclaims.

“You hit on a different girl every week with the same ‘Ooh look at me I’m a suave British man! I’m so interesting!’ when really all you do is talk with your hands to make it seem like you’re interesting.” She retorts.

“Do you have something against British men?” he asked confused.

“Your people took over half the world and then left it in shambles when we rebelled against you, I have a bit of resentment.” She quips.

“Okay so you do hate me.” He states.

“No no! I—“ she sighs. “I don’t hate you, I just haven’t gotten to know you that well. And that’s what this project is about isn’t it?” she responds.  

“Yea, I guess you’re right.” He replies. He smiles at her, “Okay, I’ll do the project with you.”

“Really?” she says amazed that even after that attack on his character he’d still want to work with her for six months.

“Yea, it sounds really cool and I’d love to learn how to belly dance.” He adds jokingly. Oh god, he was doing so well up until now.

“We don’t belly dance. That’s Morocco.” She says.

“Oh right sorry.” Goddammit Tom.

“Um, its fine I’ll come back tomorrow for our first interview and then we can talk after that. Sound good?” she asks. He nods and she stands up. “Well see you tomorrow Tom.”

“See you tomorrow Mahira.” He says. “Oh and Mahira?”  

She turns around and looks at him, “Yes?”

“Don’t fall in love with me.” He replies cheekily with a grin. She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Bewakoof.” Under her breath and leaves. Tom sits back in his chair and sighs. He was going to be spending six months with her. God, it was going to be a trip.

Nancy looked at Chris from her spot across the table where he was reading book reports at her home. She was editing a draft or trying to when he asked her, “So, what is this?”

“What’s what?” she asked back.

“You know this,” he says gesturing to them both. “What are we?”

“Well I’m pretty sure we’re human unless you have something you want to tell me.” She jokes. He laughs, “No no I mean our relationship.”

She paused and looked at him, “Oh that.”

“Yea.”

“Yea,” she agreed. She closed her laptop, editing would have to wait. “Well um, we’ve been going out a lot these past few weeks.” She replies. 10 dates to be exact according to her calendar, every free lunch, every free after school afternoon, they spent together it was kind of insane how in such little time they had been together for ten dates. 10 dates! In 10 dates she learned about his family—two sisters and a brother—he learned about hers—no siblings, just her mom, Kaylee who they kind of adopted after she came out as bisexual and little May—she found out they both liked Disney movies, he found out she liked to plan out everything and making lists, planning out her weekly schedule, she even taught him to meal prep and he was forever thankful for that. She also found out he was a great kisser.

She had kissed men before mind you and they were all great. But either it had been a long time or Chris was some kind of god of kissing in another life because holy crap he was a good kisser. The way he leaned in and paused just before kissing her, as if he was planning out how he was going tease and torment her with the way he’d kiss her. And it wasn’t just his lips that tormented; oh no no it was the way his hands travelled her body, exploring every inch of her skin. His beard rough against her neck but it was rough and wonderful and she wondered what his beard would feel like against more sensitive parts of her body and then she had to bring her thoughts back because oh god she was thinking about him doing very dirty things to her and he was staring at her wondering what this relationship meant to them both and great she was probably drooling. Dammit.

“I’m sorry you were saying something?” she says coming back to reality.

“Um, well I was just saying that I really like you.” He answers.

“I really like you too.” She responds.

“I was um thinking that maybe I could um call you my—“

“Wait!” she interrupts. He looks at her, dammit Chris moving too fast.

“S-Sorry sorry I just, I thought this was going somewhere and I wanted to be sure.” He apologizes.

“What? No Chris I…” she sighs and gets up and walks over closer to him, sits in his lap. “I really like you too.”

“Then what is it? What’s stopping you?”

“…You’re May’s teacher.” She whispers.

“What?”

“You’re May’s teacher! I mean some of the moms know and they haven’t been mean but I’m scared if more of them know and they find out and they might make May’s life miserable and I just don’t want that for her.” She confesses. He looks at her for a moment and then bursts out laughing. “What’s so funny?!” she asks confused and slightly frustrated.

“The moms are stopping you? Nancy this is kindergarten.” He says.

“It’s more political than you think! PTA moms are scary.” She retorts.

“If the school doesn’t have a problem with it, the moms shouldn’t. Nance I really like you. I like your lists, and your meal preps and how you talk about books and movies.” He says. She smiles a little and he continues, “I like how wonderful of a mother you are to May. I like your laugh; I like the way you gasp when I kiss that spot on your neck.” She blushes and scrunches her nose. He laughs, “I like how you scrunch your nose when you’re nervous or embarrassed. I like you a lot. And I really can’t wait to see where this goes.” He finishes. She smiles and kisses his cheek. “I can’t wait to see either… Boyfriend.” She replies. He grins, “Oh so I’m your boyfriend?”

“Yes. And I guess I’m your girlfriend.”

“Mmm, maybe.” He says. She makes a face and he laughs, “Of course you’re my girlfriend! I’m the one who brought up the conversation didn’t I?”

She giggles and kisses him. And they kissed again, and again, and again…

A/N: What did you think??? Let me know!!

Tag List: @notsomolly, @linzinator, @boxfullofcats, @blown-transistor, @seattlite09, @shhiminmybluecastle, @emarich7, @othersideofforty, @laughing-baubo, @nerdmom42, @lilydale-chicken, @theshortbuthappyone, @survivingstudentlife, @pretty-sexy-silly-mismash, @toc1985, @lokilockedcougar,  @reblogiwill, @msblofled, @ladyvic3, @barnes21cz, @big-bad-wolf

[gsmatthews95]

Road trip: a microcosm of travelling. A Reflection upon holidaying

So. So. Wait third time lucky, so I am now rewriting this piece almost two years later t than I originally intended. What? Yeah that’s right. When I was contributing to christyful’s blog when we were in Vietnam about 20 months ago my final piece, a magnificent creation if I say so myself, was supposed to be on the highs and lows of travelling (or holidaying if you’re me, a less glamorous term but one that I feel is more accurate to the experiences had when abroad). I wrote it upon the rooftop of the flip flop hostel in Hanoi in Vietnam, a cool hostel that was a mini party hostel, lots of fun. But yeah I woke up one day and decided I have the time and motivation to write this masterpiece that encapsulates the beauty of holidaying, and, in my eyes, outline just why it can be so addictive. It is not all about the immense sights, the once in a lifetime moments always. I’m going to put my slightly controversial opinion forward, this will not be solely about my time in Australia I’m going to pick through my various holidays to really try to emphasise my point. It is my opinion that it is the rollercoaster nature of holidaying that makes it something so addictive and fun and that forces you to grow as a person. It is the lows that make the highs just so high, every feeling you have is doubled in magnitude, meaning that the best moments are incomparable to your best moments at home and the worst can feel even worse than anything you’ve felt when being at home.

Disclaimer: this post will be nothing like the previous one, it will be longer and more in depth but I can’t vouch for the end result, but I reckon it’ll be better.

Disclaimer 2.0: sorry family if you haven’t heard any of these stories before, I didn’t want to worry you.

So, the lows, the downs, the parts of a holiday you regret and may wish didn’t happen, these I believe are completely imperative to your experience and to making you grateful, even thankful for the time you’ve had. You may think in your life. Actually no. You think in your life (or at least I do a lot) what do I regret doing/not doing, it’s only human to think like this however negative it may feel because you think how can I improve. We were even sat round the fire the other night and someone asked “what would you have done differently in your time in Australia or barossa?”. I do this more than most, call it my perfectionist tendencies (or attempted perfectionist at least) or just my self critical nature but I think it is necessary to think back over the good and the bad (mainly the bad) to self improve and to truly appreciate the greater and more impressive moments of your life, and more accurately for this piece, your holiday.

So I got rethinking about this idea when I was reminiscing about the road trip and how not every single moment was perfect and nice, of course it wasn’t WE WERE CAMPING. But still I will look back upon it and remember the good times and the amount we saw and the amount of fun we had. For this reason I see he road trip as a microcosm of holidaying in general. We will always look back upon these times with rose tinted lenses remembering the best and most emotive times, when really there is just as much time spent being unhappy or down (please don’t read this thinking I’m depressed or doing my own weird twist on 13 reasons why by the way. Also what a series, we’re rewatching season one and I’m addicted, bring on season two, but that’s hardly the point of this rant). What I mean by this is that, like on a 2.5 week road trip where you’re camping in free camp sites eating pasta pesto or noodles every day, not everything you do is a amazing and memorable and if you think of the trip as a percentage you’ll find a large portion, probably the majority we were tired, hot, cold, hungry, thirsty, annoyed at each other or just quiet. This is only natural though when you’re spending so much time together in the desert driving for so long. But when you are in this state you appreciate the immense natural formations and experiences even more. For example when we got to the Mataranka hot springs after five or six hours driving the car was dead as I was writing, Chloe was plucking her legs, and Matt was looking at WikiCamps (I know what a cool group of people) but as soon as we got there the stupor was broken and energy weighed through us as we all got ready, chatting, laughing and joking. We then proceeded to having a sick time. The point I am trying to get at here is that you can’t have the best time 24/7 and sometimes it takes some worse times to make you fully appreciate the good. I know, knowledge bomb. I’m now gonna take a little trip down memory lane in these next paragraphs.

Now picture this there’s an 18 year old kid, he’s on his first big trip away from home alone. He’s been gone now for four months and has had a bangin time. Done new things, met new people and he’s done it all alone. Big learning curve. There were a lot of ups and downs on my gap year: getting wrong buses, getting too drunk, being threatened by a druggy local to name just a few of the downs, while I don’t believe I need to really explain the better parts, to read of these go look at my other blog that I had when I was on the gap year. All of these memorable moments and incredible places and sights that I had never seen and certainly won’t see for another long time, especially with my already long and always growing list of future holidays, were captured on my nice little digital camera, actually I think it may have been dads (sorry dad). I had never had the chance to back them up with no access to a proper computer. Guess where this story is going, yes I was on a bus and fell asleep with my bag at my feet and when I woke up a few hours later, the camera was gone. Great. A couple of thousand photos maybe, gone. But this made me realise, what are photos really? Do I really need them? Should I really mourn their loss? No. A great lesson was learnt that day, photos are nice, good memories but in the end as long as you remember where you’ve been, don’t cry about losing them. It also meant the next few months were better as I took the bare minimum photos possible and had an infinitely better time of it. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes of my lost camera I rose and soared away to better times, that metaphors sounded better in my head.

We move on. Now I’ll take a look at my 20 year old self in Honduras, a dangerous country where I was making the journey from the border to the city with the highest percentage of murders per capita. Ok. Should be fine. The day was long I’d started in Guatemala and was embarking upon a 7 part journey or so including 2 boats, 3 buses and a taxi, ah no it was a six part journey, got it. I had done the hardest part of this colossus of a voyage and was at the border, it was about 3pm, not too bad I think. I stride across the border looking for my bus I’d just jumped off to get my passport stamped and couldn’t see it. Where could they be? I doubled back and chatted to the conductor in my suspect Spanish. What I gauged wasn’t great, the bus terminated there, eek. But he said it was fine there was a bus to San Pedro just over the border. I headed his words and wandered aimlessly with great trepidation scared for my safety. I got to the buses. There were a few, bangin. I asked each where the were going. No. No. No. then I found my bus, my vessel to safety. When do you leave mate? The response, 2-3 hours. Hmm bit long was that would get me into the murder capital at around 8pm. No thanks. I was stuck. Wondering what to do. I had no choice. So I got talking to some old Honduran men, it turned out they were going to San Pedro with a pickup truck. I jumped at this. Can I come with you in the back? They said yes but they had some places to go first. I didn’t care I jumped in the back with a load of bananas and a Honduran man and we were off. Still scared but at least heading towards my goal, I chilled briefly. They stopped a number of times at tiny villages and I asked why, naturally. It transpired they were bible salesmen, yes please. Men of god. The weirdest, luckiest and probably most memorable experiences of my life. It came from one of the scariest moments of my life. And the sense of relief just compounded the memorability and joy of that trip.

Sorry for the ridiculous length of this piece, I’m getting quite into reminiscing. The last segment of this essay, Vietnam. Mine and Christians little adventure. Anyone who has met me since this trip two years ago will undoubtably know which experience I will describe now. Many of you will have seen the video. Or maybe have seen my dramatic demise in sport (read sport as quidditch and squash). Yes I am talking about the great motorbike crash of 2016. It was massive. I won’t describe the actual ordeal or else we will be hear for hours more than we will be already. Setting the scene though, we were on the Ho Chi Minh highway. 70km from the nearest town and 100 from the nearest hospital. I crashed... straight over the metal barrier. Bike screwed and knee, also screwed. I know poor vocabulary choice but I feel it’s an accurate word for both. We had a task ahead of us, made no easier by the ten Vietnamese who had crowed around me and were offering no help. My first moment of clarity was when I yelled to Christian to get the keys our of my bike, even though there was no way it was driving. With no real medical supplies we did our best, Christian (genius) cut two socks open and slid them over my knee like and tubey grip and gave me 8 painkillers (still not enough). My job, stand up and start to try and put any kind of weight on it. His next task sort out the bike, the battery had fallen out. Apart from that there was no major damage but half the bike looked like it was falling off. We had to drive the 70km with the day fading, as we’d had to wait for me to recover, while I could not use my right leg (and consequentially, the back brake). Christian gave me a kickstart as I could not and I drove off, one leg hanging out and he followed me. When stopping he had to catch me as I rolled in slowly and help me off (my hero). We were 10km away and the rain started, oh I forgot to mention my lights didn’t work. But though all this we made it. We got codine and I lay in bed. To date the proudest achievement of my life, and at the time ones of Christians too. To make it to the hostel under those circumstances was something else I won’t forget.

Sorry for rambling like mad, I’ve enjoyed writing this a lot. I went quite off point but this is a blog and I’m not being marked so I don’t really care. Basically holidaying is full of ups and downs and without the downs you not appreciate those ups.

I hope hope you’ve Enjoyed this little reflection.

G out

Xo

Unlucky one

Reflection