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He saw her head fall onto the keyboard, spasming. Given by the almost silent chuckles, from laughter.
He went back to his book (a new one in the series she so likes!), irritated by the sight. She’d start a conversation any min-
„I’m scrolling through some badfic cracky MST’s on livejournal.”
He wondered how such incomprehensible a sentence was so simple. Language is improving greatly beyond logical.
„I want to write an MST.”
”Those people aren’t active since…” He looked at the screen. „2013.”
„So? I’ll post it on another site. Someone will read it. The trend will come back. I’ll get famous. I’ll finally have more MST’s to read.”
She was getting caught up in her thoughts again. Her dreams had dreams. No, literally.
„Alright. Alright. Jeez. You won’t get famous with one fanfic - and definetely not with an MST. They don’t call them MST’s now. And the fandom you’re looking through is dead.”
Mr Cranky, the Destroyer of Fun, the Tamer of Children’s Smiles, she likes to call him. But he knows that she knows that he knows that he’s the one that shapes her thoughts into something a bit more… realistic.
That way, she can only get pleasantly suprised, and not disappointed.
She sighed as loudly and obnoxiously as she was able. He hated that, but he laughed anyway.
„Write a draft. Maybe no one’s gonna read it - you’ll do it for yourself. Hell, you used to write for yourself only, before you discovered fanfiction. You’ll read it until youre satisfied. And then suddenly you’ll see someone found it. And was curious enough to click. Hell, maybe they even enjoyed it. Or maybe not. Maybe no one sees this. Maybe for the better - it’s embarassing anyway. But it’s yours.”
She nodded. She nodded again as her eyes begun to fill up with tears.
Oh come on. She had this illogical reaction everytime they talked about something a bit personal.
He gave her the time to cry it out. He was hopeless with emotions, so he went to make himself some tea. Again.