#if someone were to look into my brain it would literally just be Sam rotating around | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lululandd · 1 year

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whiskey sour;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 1577

warnings: meet..cute(?)

note: my heart said angst but my brain said fluff, and i cant write without a brain so… (also on ao3)

summary: the man at the bar never talks. not to women hitting on him, not to the men squaring him up for fights.

You see him every weekend for 3 months straight, sitting at the same place, wearing some rotation of dark hoodies, and sporting some manly drink that seem like they taste as angry as he looks. You notice the only one he talks to is the bartender. And now you, apparently.

You trudged into the bar with a sour face and a sour mood and sat next to him, which you wouldn’t do if there was legitimately any other seat. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.” You pointed at his drink after getting the barkeep’s attention.

It surprised you when the drink came less than a third of the glass it came in. Did the bartender think you’re a pussy and gave you less? Whatever.

So you downed it in one go.

Horrible idea. It burned from your tongue down to your esophagus, and you coughed your lungs out for a solid minute while tears streamed down your face before the fire dissipates.

“You’re supposed to sip.” You heard someone mutter after your body stopped being dramatic over the drink.

Who the fuc—

“You savour it.” He chided. Oh, it’s the quiet man. So the reason no one talked to him is because he’s some kind of obnoxious fuck?

“No ‘you allright’ or ‘you okay’? Straight to the lecture?” You bit back. Fuck, you feel like purposefully bumping into him as you slid off your seat, but he’s built like a tank and you’re not going to test whether you’re wet noodle or wet tissue against him right now. You trudged out of the bar you entered not fifteen minutes ago, and out of anger you promise to never go back.

And by never you mean like two years. You’ve changed jobs, moved closer to work, and now you literally live above said bar you never wanna go back to.

Fuck.

A few weeks went by before seeing him again. Still sitting in the same place, still wearing dark hoodies, still staring daggers at everyone. You changed your mind on drinking that day, not when he’s around.

But the next day you weren’t so lucky. Thinking he wouldn’t be there—since it was a weekday—you plopped right in front of the barkeep and asked him about rumours and gossips of the week.

“Well, that hot widow I kinda fancy got a date yesterday, seemed like it went well.”

You rolled your eyes, “If only you asked her out first.”

He laughed as he slides you a glass of water. “Did that at a previous place, people think they get free drinks when they date a bartender.”

“Wait, you don’t?”

“Nah. I mean, I’ll give them some but lots take it too far and think they can order for a group.”

You scrunched you nose, “I think you just dated shit people, Sam.”

He scoffed, “Shut the fuck up.”

His attention was away from your a second and you decided to take a glance at who ordered. It’s him. You didn’t even notice when he came, to think someone his size would make a lot of noise when they walk. But you were too caught up in conversation, you guess.

When he got back he grabbed two glasses and filled it with a big ball of ice and poured very little of what you think was bourbon into the glasses. You had learnt a little here and there, since you do live above and spend some time with Sam on slow days. To your surprise he handed one to you.

You immediately looked towards the man’s direction and he waved his glass at you.

Oh no.

Taking a deep breath, you grab the glass and place yourself next to him.

“Allright?”

You sighed, “Yeah, don’t worry, I remember this is a sippy drink and not a gulpy drink.”

“Good.”

“Thanks, by the way.” You raised your glass and started sipping. You can’t hide your wince. This would definitely be a good if you were depressed or sad or trying to forget a horrible incident or getting over a breakup, but things are way too nice in your life for you to enjoy it properly. “Would you be offended if I asked the barkeep to make this into a whiskey sour?”

He answered by waving Sam down.

As your drinks slowly diminish, you learn exactly two things about him. His name is Simon and he likes dogs. The man dodged so many questions like Neo and those fucking bullets, and if Sam didn’t somehow made the previously godawful whiskey taste so goddamn tasty you would’ve probably gone upstairs and to bed by now.

But Simon is a good listener, so whenever you feel like having a drink, you sit next to him. It’s definitely a biased opinion, but you think it’s highly unfair that he is as funny as he is attractive. He’s cracking jokes as if his life depended on it, like an ugly kid that had to make his way through school being funny to avoid getting bullied. You also learnt one new thing about him, he has a friend called Soap. Of course you didn’t ask about him, because you know he doesn’t divulge any information, but it’s really funny that the other man calls him quite often lately and then hearing them bantering back and forth for a couple minutes before you can hear the scot on the other end of the phone yell something so scottish you couldn’t understand a word. For a little while you fall into this fun routine, until he stopped coming one day. You think nothing of it at first, like he is a grown man and he could have those seasonal jobs, but weeks turned to months and you miss your drinking buddy.

It was a rainy afternoon, and you opted to wait at the office an extra two hours for the rain to lighten up at least a little. Regret settled deep in your bones for rejecting so many ride home offers, as you wrung what you could of your wet clothes. Some fucker in a pickup truck thought it would be funny to drive at sixty by some puddles and splash everyone at the sidewalk. Everyone huddled under the same awning to try and clean themselves up and share their plight. After feeling dry enough, you started to head back when you heard your name being called by a familiar voice, and then a hand on your shoulder.

“You look like a wet rat.”

Fighting words. Those are fighting words. You did the one thing you know is appropriate for such a greeting.

You hugged him. Wet clothes and all.

He was tense for the duration of the hug, and ended it quickly with pats to your upper back. A wide smirk graced your face as you looked up at him, and you can immediately tell—albeit covered by a face mask—that he’s unhappy of the outcome.

“Hi.” You greeted, the smirk getting wider at his apparent annoyance.

“There’s a kebab place nearby. Let’s go.”

It was a seven minute walk, and you were glad the place he led you to was rather dirty, cramped, and two girls were doing their homework on a table at the back. The food will definitely be good. You looked around for a place to sit after telling him what you wanted. Scouting for a table with no food left, you stood near a family of four and waited for them to leave.

Simon came back with the food you ordered and some drinks you definitely didn’t tell him to get. But it was apparently some foreign soda that you’ve never seen, and you were happy to get to try it. Halfway through your meal someone clapped his shoulders and you swear he was about to stand up and do something until he saw the other man’s face.

The man with a mohawk started, “Who’s this, LT?”

Simon skipped too many beats to answer, and looking at his face, you swear he was legitimately about to throw down, so you did what you think would be natural at a time like this.

“Oh, uhh… I don’t know him, I just sat here because the place was full.”

He then introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Johnny. This here is my mate, Simon.”

“Piss off, Johnny.”

Johnny laughed, and when he went to the cashier you were afraid he would join you, but he said goodbye as soon as he got his order.

Both of you ate in silence for a bit. “So you don’t know me, huh?” He finally cracked, smiling at you.

Oh thank god, you thought he was mad, “Sorry, you looked really uncomfortable.”

“That bad?”

You slowly nodded, “Honestly, yeah. Scared you were gonna beat him up on the spot.”

“Nah.” He sipped on his soda, contemplating something. “Do that at work though, not here.”

You blinked. “You’re gonna beat him up.. At work?”

He raised his eyebrows as a confirmation, and you can see he’s not gonna elaborate.

Leaving the place, he walked you back to your place, under the guise of needing a drink after having such a ‘rough night’.

“Why?” You teased him as you two walked in, “Is it rough because now your friend thinks you like people that looks like a wet rat?”

“Nah. He already knows I do.”

“What?”

He doesn’t say anything else, but he did tell Sam to make two whiskey sours.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing #ngl there was supposed to be a line saying #‘yeah well you look like youd rather be circumcised for a 2nd time’#but someone (>:3) said brits dont get circumcisions so #that went out the window

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weightofdreamz · 2 years

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In my book |s.f.k|

Just watched my younger cousin play volleyball and got this idea! And from when I used to be a setter in volleyball.

Warnings; some tears, not REALLY angsty in a sense, fluff!!! hurt/comfort

Taglist; @gretavanflowerpower @doodle417 @gretavanfleas

Not proofread💃

—

The score was 14-13 in the third set, y/n’s team was in their last game in the gold bracket. If they win this last set, they’ll win the whole tournament. Sammy was watching the game intently, watching you in awe. You were your teams setter, only setter, so you always felt an extra amount of pressure being responsible for most plays.

If you asked Sammy a few months ago what a “pancake” in volleyball was he would have told you it was a literal pancake. However, since the two of you became closer friends, he learned the rules and art of volleyball. You thought it was cute, how he would get angry when a ref would make a dumb call, or when someone got injured.

People assumed that you enjoyed being a setter but a in all honesty, you hated it. The stress that comes with being a setter has gotten to you, and every game you play just makes it worse. You blame yourself for every missed point, every spike into the net. You knew deep down that you couldn’t do anything to help it when one of your teammates shanks it, but your brain thought otherwise. But you’d never tell anybody that. You couldn’t tell anybody that volleyball seems more like a job than a fun hobby.

Your team ranked 3rd in the state which made you more stressed as this was the last set of the tournament. You and your team were a powerhouse, only losing 2 games this season. Not every game had good refs or courts but your team always managed to come out victorious. However, these two referees seemed to have it out for your team. Calling random doubles, players in the net, and lifts nonstop.

As you set your middle for a ‘b’ you hear a whistle blown, your middle had been called for being in the net when she was nowhere near touching it.

“What the fuck? She was nowhere that?!” you quietly whispered to your friend Riley, who’s your other pin hitter.

“Y/n, they’ve been making stupid calls this whole time, don’t let this one get to you,” she said patting your back as you got back into your base for this rotation. The score was now 14-14, with your opponents best server serving.

“Alright team nice and high! Call your seams and call your ball, let’s get it back!” You screamed at your team, watching the server serve at your libero, who shanked it way out of the court. You laughed yourself towards it, but weren’t able to pass it far enough into the court for someone to get it up. As you landed on the ground with a harsh thud your right wrist slammed into the ground.

As Sam watched this all go down he was on the edge of his seat, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you fly through the air, only breathing after you hit the ground.

“Y/N!” He loudly said, eyes filled with worry.

You got up as quickly as you could, brushing the throbbing pain in your wrist away as you forced a smile and turned to Sam.

“I’m fine Sam, don’t worry!” You but back your tears as you jogged back to your spot by the net as you looked at the score. 14-15. One more point and then it was all over. You couldn’t let that happen, not when you got this far, pushed yourself this much to get where you were.

This time, your DS was able to give you a great pass, giving you the ability to set up your outside hitter. As the other team got the spike up, you got ready to block their outside.

As you jumped to block with your middle you felt the ball connect with your hands and bounce off them. It landed on the other teams side, on the line. But when you looked at the line judge you saw that they called it out. And the referees believed them.

14-16. You just lost and it was your fault. As you looked to Sam you could tell he was yelling but you couldn’t hear him. All you could hear was your heartbeat. All you could think about was how it was your fault. Your team lost because of you. You walked to your team, face void of any emotion. Your teammates and coach clapped you on the back, telling you it wasn’t your fault, that you played hard, that the refs just wanted to be done. But you brushed them off, headed for you water bottle and sat down to take off your shoes and knee pads.

You hadn’t realized that Sam was right beside you until you got up and turned, coming face to, well neck, with him.

You hadn’t said a word to anyone, just a few mumbled yeahs, good games, and thank yous.

You looked up at Sammy, tears starting to well up in your eyes as you took in a ragged breath. He simply grabbed your bag, took your hand, and led you out of the sports complex.

Neither of you talked on the way home, instead listening to a playlist the two of you had made a while ago. You stared out the passenger side window, thinking about the game and everything you could have done better. It was until you both were in his house that he finally said something.

“It wasn’t your fault y/n. I know you think it was, but it wasn’t. I’m here for you, whatever you want me to be. Please tell me what your thinking. Need a punching bag? I’m right here, need someone to talk to, go ahead. I don’t want you blaming yourself for something that was out of your control. Those referees were shitheads and probably wouldn’t know what a double was even if you showed them.”

When he finally stopped talking, he listened for a response. First he heard a small sniffle and then felt you crashing into him, sobbing into his shoulder. As he guided you to the couch he rubbed your back, whispering words of comfort.

“It’s so fucking stupid. It was so obviously on the fucking line but no. The referees wanted to go home so they pull random calls out of their asses to end the game. I’m so fucking pissed. And so many of the points the other team got were my fault.” You sobbed into his chest.

“Y/n, you did the best you could, you helped your team be the best they could be. They wouldn’t have gotten as far as they did without you. And in my book, you guys were the true winners.” he gently said to you, kissing you on the top of your head as your sniffling started to get quieter.

“I love you Sammy, thank you.” you whispered into his chest, loosening your grip on his shirt and instead wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck.

He lightly chuckled, turning his head to smile into the side of yours.

“I love you too darling. I always will.” he planted a kiss to the side of your head, moving you to lay on top of him, he resting on his chest while his arms wrap around your waist.

“Get some rest, my love. We can talk about this in the morning. And with that, you let out a contempt sigh, snuggled into his chest and closed your eyes, drifting to sleep while listening to his heartbeat and his calm breathing.

And that’s how Josh and Jake found the two of you when they got home from the bar. You and Sammy softly snoring on the couch, on on-top of the other. Josh grabbed one of the throw blankets from the blanket basket and covered the two of you with it. Planting a soft kiss to the top of your head while whispering, “I hope you feel better soon mamas,” and set off for his room, shutting off the lights in the rest of the house. That night with Sam, the first of many, was one of the best nights of your life.

fin~

Yay👏 If you don’t understand volleyball i’m sorry if any of this was confusing. I played when I was younger and my mental health had never been the same 👎 anyways, hope you enjoyed!! Love you my sunshines <3

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh gvf #jake gvf #danny gvf #sam gvf #sammy kiszka x reader #sammy kiszka #sam kiszka x reader

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 5 years

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Movie Night (ft. Cas's t-shirt)

THANK YOU for the ask, Dear Anon! I'm very flattered that you enjoyed the last one, and hope this meets your expectations! I WISH I could tag you in this, but you're on anon so.. Anyways, I went for Tuesday movie night idea, and clubbed it with a 'cute t-shirt prompt' I received and it got long AF but please leave a comment if you read and like!

"Ahh," Dean let out a perfect sound of exhaustion meeting the plush comfort of his couch. "It's finally Tuesday."

Sam snorted from the side, because his relationship with tuesdays had been kind of a love-hate. Not that Dean ever took him seriously - he doesn't blame his brother, really, because he wouldn't believe Dean either if he told him 'a piano crushed you to death' or any of those other ridiculous ways in which he'd died.

"If you like movie nights that much," Jack added, from the side - he was settled in one of the big chairs, looking more like a kid than he usually did. "Why don't we watch movies on other nights, too?"

Sam leaped to answer, ever ready to squeeze in a lesson for the nephilim. Good values needed to be a part of the upbringing. Children need to be taught by example. "There's an analogy we can use for this, Jack. Say, uh, Dean loves his birthday very much." Dean frowned at his brother. "Because of the pie, and the gifts, and all the beer." Dean shrugged. "So, he wishes on his birthday candles that everyday be his birthday!" Sam paused, and Dean wondered why he spoke as if he was talking to a kid, and not the strongest 2-year-old ever. "But, what happens then, is that he keeps growing a year older on each birthday - that is, everyday!"

Jack looked alarmed. "That's - bad."

"Yeah, because then I'd grow to be 60 in like a month and die." Dean added, in a deadpan.

"It won't take you thirty years to get to sixty." Sam reminded him.

"Shut up, Sam." Dean scowled and turned back to Jack. "Listen, kid, this isn't about all the good movies in the world getting finished too soon, if we watch 'em everyday. It's more about the attitude."

Jack nodded.

"Like, uh," Dean swallowed. "Like our dad always taught me and Sammy, hunters need to live a disciplined life. Can't just start watching a movie whenever, because that'll make your head feel like you're giving it permission to do crap, just like that, without a routine. That's never good for a hunter - even less so, he'd say, for the sons of an ex-Marine. Messes your head up, and takes away your ability to fixate on your decisions." Dean paused. "It's not like I've not watched movies on a Saturday because I wanted to, but the old man made sense - it's just, a routine is better to stick to."

"That sounds like a horrible amount of behavioral psychology to associate to an activity as trivial as watching a movie." Came a new voice, as Cas stood in the doorframe, his head just slightly tilted as his eyes looked straight at Dean.

Dean's exhale was caught in his lungs, and he blinked, staring at Cas with a chest full of air, and still feeling like he'd sink instead of buoyant. Cas was no longer in the trenchcoat and pants - he wore grey pyjamas which fit snug over his thighs, and a t-shirt which had to be new, because holy fucking shit.

He'd have noticed the angel walking around their bunker, wearing a black AC/DC shirt like that - simple, to someone else, perhaps - yet the way it fit over his biceps, widened his shoulders a bit more, and gave an elevated look to his chest because of the smooth descent to a toned abdomen - rendered Dean incapable of looking away. Complete with his hair sticking up at odd angles, hints of a stubble and inspecting eyes focussed on Dean, he looked like the stuff of Dean's (guilty, oh so guilty) dreams.

"H-hey, Cas." Dean cleared his throat, shifting on the larger couch to make space for him. He waved his hand dismissively to disregard all that he'd just said. "Forget about that, it was crap - come sit down." He suggested, breathlessly.

"Look who finally joined us," Sam addressed, in a normal voice and not even bothering to look up again - making Dean wonder why he didn't get all caught up in Cas's t-shirt, like Dean just had. He was unfairly attractive - but not just to Dean, right?

"I'm sorry," Cas replied, as he sat down next to Dean. Not a single part of them touched, since they were on opposite edges of a large couch Dean originally got for Sam and him - but there was still a tingling under Dean's skin, which had to be Cas's fault. "I couldn't find any socks." He turned to Dean, suddenly smiled, and tugged his pyjama up a little to show him the socks he wore. A pair of fucking novelty socks, they were - but Dean found himself grinning mindlessly, as Cas crossed his legs under him, and the visual was taken away from him.

"Of course, you couldn't." Sam inputted. "Dean hasn't been doing the laundry lately."

"Why am I the only one supposed to do it?" Dean threw back, and Sam didn't say anything to it.

"Nevermind." Cas declared. "I found socks, unwashed though they may be. Let us start." He referred to the movie.

Jack had fell silent for a moment, and he spoke up again. "Yeah! What are we watching today?"

At the same time that Sam opened his mouth - probably to drag Dean on how they better not watch something they'd just watched - Dean spoke up. "We're watching The Fellowship of The Ring, today."

"We just watched that on literally the third Tuesday of March -" Sam complained.

"Listen." Dean threw back. "Don't shove your crazy awesome memory with movies and dates, in my face - 'cause my brain forgot the movie already."

"Forgot? You probably can quote it line by line, Dean." Sam frowned. "But I guess you're not satisfied until you flawlessly recite it in your sleep, like Lost Boys."

Dean flashed his best shit-eating grin, and if that's what he was gonna do, he wasn't gonna agree with Sam. "Well, it's what we're watching, Sammy. Deal with it."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "What about Jack? Or Cas? Why don't you ask them if they want to watch Lord of the Rings again?"

"I do." Jack announced, brightly. "I like Frodo and Samwise Gamgee." Sam rolled his eyes. "But, I could also watch something else. I trust Sam's recommendations, after Harry Potter." He added, faithfully.

"Careful, buddy, Sammy's raising your son to be a nerd." Dean muttered to Cas, and he nodded, as if it was a line that needed to be answered with a nod.

Sam grinned like it was victory handed to him on a platter. "He said he could watch something else, Dean."

"What about Cas?" Dean turned to him, rotating in his seat. "Whadd'ya wanna watch, buddy?"

Cas pursed his lips, as if in deep thought. The deciding element. The one who'd tip the scales in the favor of one of the Winchesters.

"It's not Sophie's Choice," Sam grumbled sourly, as if he already knew what Cas would choose.

"Let him think!" Dean shushed his brother.

"I have reached a decision." Cas informed everyone, looking solemnly at the TV, instead of their faces. "We shall watch The Fellowship Of The Ring, tonight." He turned to Sam. "And if there's no hunts and we're at the bunker tomorrow too, Sam's choice shall prevail - that is, if Dean agrees to go against John's sayings and watch a movie on a Wednesday."

"That's fair." Jack grinned.

Dean beamed at Cas, with his little smile and his goddamn t-shirt, which was gonna drive Dean crazy in due time, he was sure. "See, Sam?" He ignored the comment on his father, because it was rare stilted humor, and in a perfect deadpan.

Sam muttered something under his breath which sounded a little bit like 'profound bond' for some reason, and rolled his eyes in defeated agreement, as Dean began to look for the movie.

"Whatever," Sam substituted, not looking up from his phone as the opening credits began to play. "The three of you can rewatch the entire LOTR series if you want, I'll just leave you to it." He shrugged.

"Hey!" Dean was annoyed. This was family movie night. Sam was supposed to be a part of it too. "Lord of the Rings is right up your alley, nerd. Why're you bitch-facing so hard tonight?"

"Well," Sam chewed on his lip. "It's very long, and I wanted to get to bed for an early night."

Dean narrowed his eyes, and hit pause on the remote just as the elves began to narrate. "Why?"

"No reason." Sam stalled. There was an almost familiar edge to his voice and -

Suddenly, it all made sense to Dean. The dots connected in his head, and Sam's reluctance to watch a three hours long movie was suddenly reasoned.

"Why, Sam?" Cas repeated, intrigued. "Are you alright? Do you not feel well?"

"He feels fine. I know," Dean cut in. "He's got a date." Sam's eyes widened before he vigorously shook his head in denial. "Some virtual crap, I bet, because you don't like to get laid, and an actual date may've involved that - but whatever is your idea of a fun time, hey, I'm not judging."

"It's not a date!" He declared.

"Then it's something like it." Dean shrugged, getting surer, with Sam's panicked expression. He knew his brother well enough to read through this cover. "Tell me Sammy, is this a video call with some chick you met online on those awful sites?"

"Dude, no." Sam balked. "I'm on no such awful site to meet chicks."

"Sure, you're not." Dean narrowed his eyes. "Then, who? Because clearly I'm right about the rest of it."

"It's," Sam looked like he didn't wanna continue, would like nothing better than to not finish the sentence. But with Cas joining in on the stare, he let out a subdued, "Uh, Rowena."

There was a stillness in the room. Dean and Cas slowly exchanged a look, and Sam flushed. "Who?"

"We know her, Dean!" Jack corrected, promptly.

"Not like Sam does," Dean shot at his brother, who looked flustered as crap, and it was all Dean had ever wanted from this conversation.

"Dean!" Sam looked grossed out, while it should've been them. He was the one dating a three hundred years old witch. "We're gonna discuss -"

"- if you're about to tell me you'll discuss a case, I swear to call you on your bullshit by calling Rowena right away." Dean challenged, definitely.

"I -" Sam pursed his lips. "I don't need to have this conversation with you, jerk."

"What about the rest of us?" Cas asked, and there was a smirk playing on his lips, which made him all the more attractive.

"None of you." Sam declared, standing up, looking offended. "You are literally infants! Don't breathe a word of this to anyone, Dean, or I'll - whatever, just watch your frigging movie, I'm out of here."

"If you're gonna do stuff, use headphones!" Dean waited until Sam was far enough to not hit Dean for it and yelled after him, as the latter marched out of the room, embarrassed. It was his duty as the older brother to make that happen, so no issues there. He turned back to Cas, grinning at him - and Jack, of course.

"The rest of us are here without the intention of leaving halfway to call a chick, right?" Dean asked, though it was a pretty stupid question for Jack - and if the answer were yes for Cas, he'd have a major-ass freak out right there.

"Right." Cas confirmed, for some reason; his voice rich and gravelly, and Dean's attention was once again taken by Cas's t-shirt - now that his kid brother was sufficiently out of the picture. True, Jack was still there, but that's a different issue. Dean had to hold a reputation in front of Sam, that he could control his senses in the presence of Cas, and that he could rein it in, and that he could do a lot of things which he was very far from, in reality.

"Me too." Jack announced, brightly, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Jack, you're two." Cas informed him, and Dean had to stifle a snort at the very notion. Nevertheless, he toned down the weird, made himself comfortable in the couch - maybe shifting a little towards the middle, and let out a small, content sigh, for the second time this evening.

He hit play.

“Why do we keep making the same mistake?” Dean groaned, his head falling back on the sofa. Once again, like every tuesday ever - they’d forgotten to get food before they sat to watch the movie. Now, around half an hour in, it was all Dean could think about. But getting up seemed like an awful chore.

Cas nodded his head in agreement, grave and earnest. “It’s because we don’t learn our lesson.”

“Dean, do you want to learn said lesson tonight, by not eating?” Jack asked.

“No.” Dean glared at him. “I may be around Mr. No-Food, and Little-to-no-food, but it isn’t wearing off on me.” They’d not paused the movie to have this discussion, so he kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke. “As a human, I have a few simple needs. Such as beer and something like popcorn to chew as I watch a classic with my - I mean, with you guys.”

“Okay." Cas shuffled in his seat, beginning to stand up. Dean frowned instantly, and pulled him down, gripping his wrist. Cas easily succumbed, and was back on the couch with a surprised little bounce - looking at Dean, confused. "What? I'll get you the beer and popcorn, so that you don't have to get up. I can obviously see you don't want to."

Aww, Dean's brain melted.

"Nope." He said, out loud, popping the 'p'. "You don't need to do that. I'll go."

"I volunteer, Dean. It's not about need," Cas protested. "And you enjoy this movie more than I do."

"Sure, but I've watched it a helluva lot more too." Dean raised his eyebrows, and Cas smiled a little, one of those smiles that he reserved for Dean, and made his insides flutter.

"We could just pause it." Jack suggested, not looking away from the TV yet, for the entirety of the conversation.

"No, you keep watching, there's no need," Dean excused, standing up himself, smiling in spite of himself. Cas looked at him, and not at the screen.

"Dean," And that wonderful voice of his swept over Dean's brain and made the puddle vaporize or some shit.

"Yeah, Cas?"

"I could keep telling you what's happening, while you're in the kitchen." Cas proposed, breaking into a wider smile, all crinkly and toothy.

"Aww, Cas," Dean couldn't stop himself in time, staring blindly at Cas's face and short-circuiting in his head. And instantly cleared his throat, and added in a more composed tone. "Okay, you do that. Thanks, I guess."

Dean wondered, as he walked into the kitchen and went looking for the bacon he'd made earlier, what was up with him tonight. He was usually able to hold his tongue in front of Cas - he was usually able to look away from him, even though it took some persuasion. But there was something today, that had taken away his brain-to-mouth-and-eyes filter.

Must be the new shirt.

Dean knocked, obnoxiously loud, at Sam's door before barging in with a plate of bacon and a beer. He saw Sam fast asleep, on his front, and did not know where to go with that, so he left the table at his bedside in case he was going to wake up and resume his midnight call or something.

Then he took the rest of the food and two beers and went back to the movie room.

All through his venture, Cas had kept yelling updates through the door. "Merry and Pippin just hugged Frodo!", "And now, Frodo just met Bilbo again!", "Arwen is speaking with Frodo now!" This had made Dean grin so hard, that he almost dropped the dishes. Damn, Cas was awesome.

As Dean handed him a beer, and put the plate of bacon between them on the couch, Cas whispered to him. "And Arwen just kissed Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

And Dean stared at Cas, his blue, blue eyes and his eyebrows pinched together in concentration, and his crinkled nose - and his goddamn voice, and his way of speaking, and how he just said the words 'Aragorn, son of Arathorn' like an entire fucking dork, and how adorable it was that he'd been doing a live-commentary for Dean, and just - he was almost overpowered by a desire to kiss the perfect little smile tugging at his lips, and palm the stubble-covered cheeks, and maybe, if Jack weren't here, pull that gorgeous fucking t-shirt over his head, because it was distracting.

Dean was instantly taken aback by his own stream of thoughts. He was clearly going crazy.

He could bet it was the fault of the shirt.

Okay, but at this moment, Dean needs the remote.

And it's not just because the remote is on the other side, next to Cas, and Dean's brain instantly launches into a scene in his head, when Dean asks for the remote and Cas is too comfortable (he's already holding onto a large cushion like it's a blanket) to move, and he tells Dean to take it himself - and then Dean will have to lean over Cas to get it, and there'll be a moment where he's almost on top of him, and they'll happen to look at each other, and Cas's eyes will flit down to Dean's lips as Dean adjusts himself to reach the remote, on Cas's lap, and maybe Cas says something like -

That's enough.

Dean doesn't need the remote so that something like that plays out in reality. He only needs the remote to lower the volume, because Jack is asleep and he'll wake up otherwise in the war scene and noise that'll follow.

But this way or that, he can see the said scene happening.

Maybe there's a part of him which wants it to happen exactly how it happened in his head.

Maybe it will.

So, with more energy than the sentence needed, he says, "Cas! I need the remote!"

And Cas turns his head to look at Dean, an incomprehensible expression.

But instead of saying a variation of, 'take it yourself' like he was really, really supposed to -

He picks up the remote with his left hand and hands it to Dean simply.

Dean stares at it for a moment, everything forgotten, especially the reason why he needed the remote in the first place. And then he kicks himself for being a goddamn teenage girl about this, and plays off the disappointment with a 'thank you' in the manliest voice he can conjure, and he's pretty sure it makes up for the kind-of-but-not-really pornography he'd been dreaming up. Sam's irritating voice nags in his head, you're confusing reality with porn again.

Of course, Dean is too lost thinking and staring at Cas sideways when he's sure Cas can't see him - to remember to lower the volume, and Jack wakes up with a jolt at the Uruk-Hai screeching at Gimli the dwarf.

Jack's going off to his room. The movie isn't finished yet, but he's been dosing off throughout and Dean can't tolerate the insult to the Classic, so he tells him to just go off to sleep. It's been a long day.

"Will you both watch it whole?" Jack asks groggily, before leaving and Dean looks enquiringly at Cas. He only has to turn his head a little, because Cas is much closer to him now. They've both gravitated towards the middle.

"Of course." Cas answers. "Unless Dean needs to sleep." Dean shakes his head confidently, and Jack nods.

"Okay, goodnight dads." He mutters, at least it sounds like it, and Dean would've lost it if Cas's slight weight leaning on his arm weren't grounding him to his current location instead of somewhere panicky in his head.

"Goodnight, Jack." Dean lets out, and he's aware it doesn't sound as constipated as he thought it would, and he's proud of it.

"Dean." Cas speaks up, a moment later. "I think we should turn off the lights."

"What?" Dean blinks, mildly.

"I know neither of us will want to get up later." Cas justifies. "So we might as well do it now."

"Can't you," Dean grumbles. "Can't you use your mojo to push the switch, or..?"

Cas sighs. Then blinks, and the entire room goes dark. Cas's eyes open, and they're gleaming like blue halos of light in the suddenly dark room - and Dean can still make out his face, in the light of it. It's all hard lines and small smiles, from the little he sees. "I need to remember I can do these things, don't I?" He mumbles.

"Yeah, our human incapabilities are wearing off on ya." Dean tells him and they start looking at the screen again.

"You're not incapable if you have to stand up to turn off the lights." Cas replies, and Dean just hums in response.

A little later, Cas speaks again, and he sounds happier almost. "Dean."

"Uh-huh?" Dean looks away from Gandalf on the screen, to look at the angel.

"Did you notice Jack kept falling asleep?"

Dean pauses. "Oh." He smiles too, it coming over him all of a sudden. "Yeah."

"That means," Cas's tone is bright, and Dean can hear his smile. "He's enough human to fall asleep in the middle of a movie, again."

"Human incapabilities strike again," Dean teases, and Cas chuckles audibly and it's a really, really good moment. Although yeah, it's a bit too domestic for Dean to be perfectly at calm - Cas and he are sitting in the dark, watching a movie they've watched so many times before, discussing the progress of the nephilim they've been raising (with Sam, of course) and Dean has his hand around Cas's seat - in what he now feels guilty on realizing is the oldest trick in every guy's playbook. They're both more in the middle of the couch than not, and the beers have been drained to the last drop. One of them doesn't sleep, the other won't - and then there's Cas's perfect t-shirt, which shall drive Dean to madness each time he sees it, and beyond.

Slowly, the arm which is on the couch, falls on Cas's shoulder - and it's a rather rapid course from there to it being slung around Cas, with Cas tucked under it and leaning into Dean so that it's comfortable.

It's not that Cas's head is on Dean's chest, or not even that his fingers are playing with the fabric of Cas's shirt - its just that they're so close to doing that, and somehow Dean can't pull back this time.

Like, he suddenly realizes, he's been doing forever.

It's again, a good thing that he pretty much knows LOTR scene by scene, and in spite of almost completely being distracted by everything Cas, he answers all trivial questions Cas mumbles at him in that deep, deep baritone - and there's a heat pooling in Dean's insides, and he can't quite place if its the spot behind his ribs, or further south.

Both sounds most appropriate.

Dean is not proud of this, but he fell asleep.

It's not that he didn't finish the movie, because he did - he remembers the last scene (or it could be from a previous watching that he recalls it) but it's just that he fell asleep right there. Next to Cas.

No, not even next to him. Pretty much wrapped around him. And somehow that's - not so wild, after all. It kinda feels awesome. Its not even morning yet, so he has more hours.

He wakes up with his hair tickling his breath and coughs mildly when he realizes that he'd buried his nose in Cas's hair - and his lips on his head, apparently. He straightens, but is sure to not make much movement - because Cas doesn't sleep like they do, he rather drifts off to a sorta-catatonic state but stays very much awake and alert. He doesn't want to wake Cas up, because the angel looks so comfortable, nestled on Dean's chest - that it somehow invokes a feeling of pride in him.

And love.

And that's that. The not-freaking-out segment of this story abruptly comes to an end, and Dean clenches his fist to stop himself from beginning to tremble.

He ends up with a fistful of that goddamn shirt which Dean blames for everything in that night, and Cas stirring awake, and straightening. The weight rested on Dean's abdomen is lost, and it feels weird and colder.

"It's seven minutes to four. Ante Meridiem." Cas announces, in a voice which is roughened by lack of use.

"You should go back to sleep." Dean begs, because Cas doesn't need to see Dean get anxious about the whole pile of feelings he's beginning to feel crushed under.

"Dean." Cas says, in that voice, and straightens some more. He's at Dean's height again, and their noses are inches apart, and Cas looks worried about him. "Dean?" He repeats, and he's concerned, and he's perfect, and his voice is something else, and the way he looks at him is something else like Dean is worthy of all his attention somehow - and the emotions are brimming and he doesn't know what to do with them until he -

He jerks himself ahead, and grabs Cas's shirt for good measures, pressing his lips against Cas's.

It's a moment of bravery, it's a moment of impulse, and it's a moment of utter stupidity because Cas doesn't react -

Until he does, and he kisses back, and he's excited and into it and Dean's taken aback by his vigor and in awe of his own hands which are grappling at Cas's t-shirt for friction as he moans into Cas's mouth.

"I blame the t-shirt," He whines, when they pull away, to look at each other better. And he does.

Of course, he's not an idiot (except for the many times that he is). But what he definitely isn't, is dense enough to not realize that this had been over ten years in the making.

These urges were familiar, and suppressed each time - the sudden feelings were overpowering, except he'd learn to deal with them tactfully, by crushing them with every means possible.

But what had changed today and he'd actually acted on it instead of swallowing it, had to be the tee. It fit like magic, and it perfectly showcased his lean, muscled chest - and gave a peak of his collarbones, and if he stretched, his obliques - and it was as black as his hair in the dark, and ah, it had to be the shirt.

Because otherwise, he didn't know what it could be, that had made tonight - today - this.

Cas still had his hand on Dean's bicep. "This one?" He looks down at himself. "I got it from your closet months ago."

"What -"

"And, you blame it?" He repeats.

"No," Dean shakes his head, anxiously, truthfully as he captures his lips in a kiss again. Slotting in place against each other, and as loving as they were passionate - he had had no idea that kissing Cas would be this amazing. "I love it. I'm gonna need you to keep wearing it. On Thanksgiving, I'm gonna be thankful for it."

Cas laughs against Dean's lips, and says something which is lost in the bliss of the moment.

Nevermind. He has all the moments after this, to listen to him. But he only has this one, at the end of a Tuesday movie night, to enjoy their first kiss (he's pretty sure all the short, little kisses just make up one major kiss). So he does.

Edit: Thank you for reading! Would like to tag @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @all-or-nothing-baby @styggtroll @notyoursweetbaboo @moderatelypanickedbisexual @but-for-the-gods-three-days and @emmii4 ! If you don't wanna be tagged, I'll remove you from the list, just ask! Have an awesome day!

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momentsinsong · 5 years

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Moments In Song No. 021 - Tromac Pineapple

“Moments In Song” asks people one simple question, “What are you listening to?” For every installment we ask someone to make a playlist of 10 songs they’re listening to, whether it be something new they stumbled upon, or a song they’ve always loved, and explain the story behind their choices. We aim to show that no matter where we come from, what we do, or what we look like, music has the ability to bring us together.

DMV producer/rapper/DJ Tromac Pineapple reaches every corner of Hip-Hop and brings it together in his playlist. We talk to him about digging through Bandcamp for music, what makes a good DJ, and his new project the Velour Vandal EP.

Listen to Tromac’s playlist on Apple Music and Spotify.

Words and photos by Julian.

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Julian: First thing I wanted to ask you is what the thought process was behind making your playlist? People always say it’s hard picking 10 songs to squeeze into it.

Tromac: Well I wanted to spread across my taste as wide as possible. I actually had a hard time once I got to like 7 songs because I was like, “Damn, I can only put in three more of those joints, but I know 5 that I could pick.” I pretty much just wanted to touch on the different types of music I like. I still didn’t even get across all of it.

I noticed that a majority of the playlist was Hip-Hop, but different types of Hip-Hop. You have some boom bap stuff with “Free (Type Shit),” Dilla, and Anderson. Then you have more turn up stuff like WiFIGawd and Ghostie. That Ghostie song caught me off guard. It has a little house feel to it that I wasn’t expecting.

Yeah see I had to add that, because Ghostie is one of the most versatile artists I know. As versatile as this playlist is, he’s six times as versatile as that. As a fellow producer in this area, I have a whole lot of respect for him. And that’s my mans, so I’ll be listening to it anyway. Shit be cranking, no matter what genre he tackles. And then I also have the “Free (Type Shit)” joint because it’s just so smooth and it hits. The beats, the boom bap. That’s one of my favorite things in Hip-Hop. It’s just so powerful. That’s also why I got the J Dilla joint on there. That’s like my favorite Dilla beat of all time. Straight slap, the drums, the snares. The whole thing. It's just hard. Classic. Undeniable.

When did you first really start listening to music and developing your own taste, instead of just listening to what was on the radio?

Pretty much when I was in 9th or 10th grade. Back then my main taste was just mixtapes and shit. The first favorite rapper I ever had was Lil Wayne, and he’s still like top 5 to me to this day. I would just listen to endless mixtapes, because before I graduated High School I just loved to listen to underground shit. I literally didn’t listen to albums and would only listen to mixtapes. I would listen to the first three Droughts, Sorry 4 the Wait. That was my favorite mixtape of all times for like 18 years (laughs).

Were you on DatPiff and all those sites?

Oh bruh, I had a DatPiff account, LiveMixtapes, Sprinrilla, all of that.

So how did listening to mostly mixtapes branch off into listening to other types of artists and other types of music?

Well basically every now and then I would look into what was new that week…

Still on the mixtape websites, or is this on something else?

Yeah still the mixtape sites but at this point I also got into Bandcamp, and that was some real underground type shit. When I got into Bandcamp I was also making my own music at this point and was posting it on there. I would hashtag that shit and then click on them to see who else was posting music from Laurel, MD, or PG County, or just Maryland in general. That’s how I found a bunch of other local artists, like my homies Fonlon and Kente from NASA8, Tek.Lun and other guys. They had the same hashtags because we were all from Laurel. And then from there I would look at other hashtags like #HipHopBeats, and I would discover artists like Madbliss. Searching through hashtags led to me finding a bunch of random bands on Bandcamp, and I feel like that really opened the door for me to be on the lookout for other genres of music.

You said earlier this is when you started making music?

Yeah I started making music in 10th grade.

So is that writing rhymes? Making beats? Both?

Making beats. I mean I was freestyling with my friends all the time, and writing rhymes down in my notebook, but I wasn’t rapping on beats until 11th grade, which was around 2013. I didn’t rap on my own beats until 2014 because I knew my shit wasn’t good (laughs). But it eventually got to a point where I could hit my own stuff instead of YouTube “type beats.” I knew early on “type beats” wasn’t the wave. It is the wave for some people, but it wasn’t the wave for me. And I knew that early on because you can’t really build a solid body of work just taking random beats. Even if you get a bunch of random beats from different producers, it’s more that needs to go into a project than that.

When you first started making music, who were some of your influences when it came to producing? I would assume Dilla is one, or did that not come until later?

I knew about J Dilla because I would hear my parents listen to Erykah Badu and Common, so when my Dad found out that I was making beats he would be like, “Oh so you wanna be like Dougie Fresh and J Dilla?” and I was like, “Who the hell are these people?” All I knew was like Mike WiLL Made-It because that was what I was hearing. I wasn’t too keen on producers at that level. The producers I did know were like Flying Lotus, Tek.Lun, Kaytranada, Sam Gellaitry and that was all through Soundcloud. Some of my favorite producers would be the ones I randomly found on Soundcloud.

Can you talk more about how discovering these local artists’ music on the internet led to you linking up with them, and not just working with them but them becoming your homies.

Literally just through showing love and support through the music. I started coming out here to Baltimore for events and chilling with the homies as a way to immerse myself in the scene. Of course, you met people, you tell people you do music, and eventually the link forms itself. And if you’re good the link grows with a lot of people. When you’re genuine, genuine things happen for you. I’ve never been a “clout chaser” or anything like that. It’s always been, “This dude is really dope. He’s the homie of my homie.”

I agree with that 100%. I feel like every connection or relationship I’ve made with someone in the arts scene has been on some person to person type stuff. Not even like artist to artist, or creative to creative type stuff, but just like as a person. And I feel like you were saying it just grows from there.

Definitely. People who are just creative in general. Photographers, painters, dancers, even like fucking bartenders. Athletes, anyone who’s mind moves faster than the normal individual. I remember when I was learning how to drive my driving instructor told me that people who are athletes and artists tend to get adapted to driving easier, because their brains work more than the average individual because they have a craft they need to constantly focus on. Whatever activity you’re involved in, your brain works harder to adapt to that.

So beats came first, and then the raps. Where does the DJing come into that?

So the DJing came in because I had probably performed 3 or 4 times rapping, but then I was really confident in my beats and I wanted to start performing my beats. By this time, 2015/2016, I would be seeing videos of dudes like eu-IV, j.robb, other producers I looked up to, random Boiler Room videos, and was thinking, “Why can’t I perform my shit?” So I started creating mixes in FL Studio, and learned to DJ through that. It was tedious as fuck, but I had time because I was kid and didn’t have shit to do (laughs).

I feel like that shows in your sets now. The last one I saw from you, you had a transition from some house song to a Gucci Mane song that was crazy. Never would I have thought to put those two tracks together.

Literally when I DJ, I just play the music that I like. That Gucci Mane song just came back into my rotation like a week ago and I was just like, “Damn I don’t remember this shit being so hard. I gotta play this at a show!” A lot of it is on the fly. I don’t really plan too much outside of downloading the music. I always go off of the crowd and how I feel. Sometimes I’ll download 30 songs for a set and only end up playing like 13, and the rest of the set would’ve been made up of songs I’ve played at other shows.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had a show, and have been practicing the week before, and had a playlist ready, and you go in and the crowd is totally different, the energy changes, so you have to play off the cuff. I feel like as much emphasis you put on practicing and preparing, you also need to have the skill of being able to be on your toes and change on the drop of a dime.

I feel like if you’re a good DJ, that should already be a thing. You should know. You pick up on things like that automatically. The shows are practice. You’re not gonna get the same experience at a show, practicing at home. That’s why I feel like if you’re just starting out you should take as many opportunities as you can, and get a feel of what your lane is. I used to take any show I could. I would DJ baby showers, college pools parties, everything. You gotta find your lane, figure out what type of crowds your best in, and switch it up every now and then.

What can you tell me about the new project you got coming up? What kind of sound and themes can people expect from it?

So the new project is called the Velour Vandal EP, and it’s basically establishing myself as a rapper in the game. I’ve had rap projects before, I’ve had beat tapes, but this is my first official EP. I want people to hear this and think, “Ok, Tromac is actually trying to make it type shit.” It’s really just a lot of crank on this joint, but it’s not like I was in this joint like, “Fuck your bitch…”

You put some thought into it.

Yeah! There’s some lyrics that you gotta ask about. I’m trying to make something that’ll hit, stick, and has good content. All the people I’m working with on it are people I know care and are passionate about music. The intro is produced by me and Koleco, I’m recording all of the songs with Martin J. Ballou, I got Vlad on a song, I got Ghostie. Pretty much have all people I know are serious about music. I want this project to be something.

Yeah it’s like your introduction as a whole artist.

Yeah. And the whole thing behind the title is for like the last year or so, I’ve become really fond of velvet and have been buying a lot of it. People would always tell me I’m a bear, because I’m big and shit, soft and cuddly, just a cozy ass nigga. I have a thing where I give myself a bunch of alisas, and Velour Vandal just happen to be one of them, and I was like, “Hmm. I can do something with that.”

Any last words about your playlist and what you want the people to get from it?

I want people to go into it with a blank slate. Almost pretend like you’ve never heard music before, be reintroduced to all the different genres and aspects of these songs, and cultivate a new taste from that.

Connect with Tromac Pineapple:

https://twitter.com/TromacPineapple

https://www.instagram.com/tromacpineapple/

https://soundcloud.com/tromac

Connect with Moments In Song:

https://www.instagram.com/momentsinsong/

https://twitter.com/moments_in_song

https://tinyurl.com/MISAppleMusic

https://tinyurl.com/MISSpotify

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maiassensibleblog · 7 years

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Why I do fandom and how I think we should do fandom

[Views are entirely my own and not aimed at any person/people in particular. This is also a bit outdated from my personal views, but I’m keeping it up cos personal growth is important to show.]

fandomˈfandəm/ noun

the state or condition of being a fan of someone or something. “my 17 years of sports fandom”

the fans of a particular person, team, fictional series, etc. regarded collectively as a community or subculture. “the Breaking Bad fandom”

-Google

I’ve been doing fandom for a long time…

From ever since I can remember, my life can be split into series of very intense fandoms. I grew up with the growth of the internet. I remember it feeling fairly new and exciting when my mum got us a dial up box but I was young and it has kind of always been available to me. The internet fuels fangirls: We live online. Some people think this is a terrible thing, that we’re missing the actual world, but it’s a whole world on there and, an awful lot of the time, it’s a much better, more accepting world.

Harry Potter was my first fandom and has been constant and underlying through everything else I’ve loved. I threw myself onto mugglenet as soon as I had the internet at home. I don’t think I was allowed an account on the forum as a kid but I read the posts and felt “yes, these are my people. I’m not that strange. There are other people who re-read the Harry Potter books on a constant rotation.” I think I was probably in this fandom from the ages of 9-12, mainly watching from the side-lines but having a sense of home.

Then I had the typical tween fandom phase: Zac Efron and related movies. Like EVERYTHING. I was so intense. This was back in the day that youtube was used as social media. I’m pretty sure I liked it so much because my mum wasn’t really aware that I was talking to strangers on there, she just thought I was looking up videos of Zac’s abbs (not entirely wrong but a pretty good cover up, well done 13 year old me!). I made my first fandom friends. We chatted all the time on MSN. It sort of allowed me to separate my obsession and my “real” life and I think it made me a bit less annoying to my school friends.

My mum was amazing with this fandom. She used to take me to premieres to meet him and I would get this shaky, butterflies feeling for weeks afterwards. I, of course, mistook this for being madly in love with him. Spoiler alert: actual love feels completely different to this infatuation but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for me to experience as a young-mid teenager. If you fancy a celebrity it’s a completely safe expression of your sexuality. This is why I think girls tend to be a lot more intense than boys in fandom: culture doesn’t allow us to express ourselves in many ways and this is seen as totally innocent and acceptable.

Somehow, in all this, I found the energy to count down to the last Potter book for 100 days and get 13 A*-C GCSE’s. And have non-fandom friends. I sort of fell out of the fandom when I was about 15/16.

I then moved onto Doctor Who when I was about 16-21. I think this is when fandom started to become more about the “fandom” than the actual TV show for me. Fandom is literally a kingdom of fans and it is honestly a family of lost, crazy young people who need somewhere to express themselves. I was pretty intense but only really to the people in my fandom (obviously my non-fandom friends knew I loved it) but the friends I made (hello, Kinglets) are still some of my dearest. We’re even going to be bridesmaids at the first wedding in the group.

We go to conventions together, we go the all the actors plays together, we’ll go and find them if they’re filming in London. But mostly, we’re really important friends. I know that I can go to them for anything and that intense start to our friendship has made them really deep.

The Cursed Child fandom

And then we get to now. You can see my post about Cursed Child here. But in short we are binge-watching a play because we’ve sussed how to get tickets pretty much whenever we want them. It is bringing me so much joy and it feels really, really intense: way more than my pervious fandoms. Most my fandom friends live in or close to London because that’s the only way you can really watch the play constantly, some of them I even met at stage door and not online. The reason this is so intense is because it is so accessible. Many of the cast are really active on social media and (if I wanted to, had absolutely no shame and nothing better to do with my life) I could go to stage door everyday.

Since this fandom has been so intense and I’ve been very visible as more than just a username there has been a lot of controversy about why I am doing this and whether it’s appropriate. We have constant conversations on the group chat about if certain people are taking it too far and how and why. They’re just discussions and nobody in that chat thinks they have the right to judge the others because we’ve all got close to that invisible line in the past 6 months but where does the line stand for different people? Obviously we all draw the line in different places based on our perspectives on life. Is it even our responsibility to police each other? We’ve often thought we were better than the younger members of the Cursed Child fandom because we don’t tweet the cast everyday to say we love them and we don’t scream and cry at them (not sober anyway, and we’ve learnt our lesson on that one). But does that make us better? Do we have the right to judge anyone?

Why I do fandom

The reason why I am doing this is easy for me to decode. Fangirls tend to be the clever, successful young people. The popular kids were not and will never be one of us. We have busy lives and we’re really easily bored. I am always thinking and always inside of my own head: if there isn’t something for me to focus on I get fidgety and frustrated. But if we’re the clever kids, how is this intense obsession not taking up all our brain space and preventing us achieving our full potentials? I find that it’s easier for me to focus on my studies when I’m intensely part of a fandom. It helps to give me tunnel vision; with just my work and my fandom to focus on, I have less to be distracted by. I’m a scientist; my success relies upon my obsession with my work. It is already very intense and in order to take effective time out, it helps to be obsessed with my hobbies too.

Second, fandom is my creative outlet. I have to be so calculated and methodical all day and that isn’t all I am good at or enjoy. Writing fanfiction lets me write without having to take the time to develop my own characters because I’m way too busy with my work. Having theatre friends lets me go and see everything and talk about plays in a way that a room full of scientist will never want to. And it gives me a group of people who encourage me to pursue creative hobbies rather than telling me it’s a waste of time.

Finally, and perhaps more importantly, this fandom gives me intense joy. Both watching the play and hanging out with the friends I’ve made through it. The fact that I can experience that joy over and over again and express that to the members of the cast that are bringing that is an absolute blessing. And therefore I am not going to stop doing it because people are jealous or are worried that I’m annoying somebody. This doesn’t mean I won’t adjust my behaviour if somebody has a point but I know why I’m doing this and it’s all because it makes me so happy.

How should we do fandom?

The question about where we should draw the line is much more complicated. We definitely freaked out some of the younger cast members when we started obsessing. This is also a unique fandom because these people are the same age as most of us, we’re adults and so have the awareness that this is, if you really think about it, quite weird. Its taken a few months but I think we’ve reached a balance where we all understand each other. They don’t need to have their guards up with us, we’re joking most of the time. We’re not the fans who are going to follow them to the tube station; we don’t have their twitter notifications switched on so we can reply to them 2 seconds after they tweet anything just to tell them we love them and we aren’t going to hover around stage door except when we’re meant to be doing so after the show. We genuinely appreciate their art.

But should we stop going to stage door when we’ve seen the show? And is it wrong for us to go when we haven’t been in and our friends have? It has reached the point that if anyone is watching the play anyone who is in the area will go and meet them at stage door and just hover behind them because we want to see our friends. I don’t actually get a buzz from seeing Sams’ face, but I do get a buzz from seeing one of the collective. My intention is not inappropriate so I think its fine. Others do not think its fine but I’m not hurting anyone and as long as we’re aware that we should be as respectful as possible, I think this is all good. I’m also never going to stop going to stage door while people seem happy to see me. I’m actually quite perceptive and think I’d be able to tell if people were genuinely done with me.

But I do think that, to some extent, it is our responsibility to police each other. I think that, in general, fandom-policing is a waste of time because you can’t control people who are as intense as we are, and you shouldn’t. But I think that we are an actual group of friends and a sub-fandom of sorts, who have such open access to this play and its cast that we have to follow our own rules and should remind each other to do so. We don’t want to be known as annoying and we don’t want to make people feel uncomfortable. I don’t appreciate when people outside of our group tell us to behave a certain way because they have no way of knowing the context of what we do or previous conversations which may make some things ok for us to do, but not others. But I do think it’s important for us to continue to discuss where the line is to keep having an amazing time.

Fandom is an intense experience for everyone involved. The only way I can describe it to non-fandom people is that it’s like when you fall in love really quickly but it’s with a whole group of people and a thing, all at the same time. It’s a bit like falling but it’s amazing. Of course this leads to insanity for both the members of the fandom, who are loving it, and the objects of it, who are probably confused by the whole thing. If we want to be seen as responsible, adult fandom members it’s so important to keep checking ourselves.

This intensity has hit me as complete and utter joy since I saw Cursed Child for the first time last June. The friendships I’ve made have been so important and are valid and real. We don’t have to justify ourselves to the rest of the world and we aren’t hurting anyone.

I know that I’m a bit annoying and obsessed but as a wise man once said: “Some people are obsessed with heroin” (Daniel Radcliff).

#fandom fangirl fan

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