#because it just reminds me of That Time I Got Death Threats And Hate Mail For Saying A Ship Wouldn't Be Canon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sixofpomegranates · 4 years ago

Text

Rain in California - Act 1 - California

🥀Mini Series “Rain in California” Act 1 - Part 1 - California🥀

✨My Main Masterlist✨ | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad

🥀Soundtrack🥀 | ✨Aestethic Trailer✨ | 🥀Masterlist🥀 | Words: 9.4k

A/N: The music used in this story is not owned by me (obviously) & I used it in the same style that 'Rock of ages' and 'Mamma Mia' used songs. I gave them a different meaning and context. The meaning and context are NOT representing the one that the ORIGINAL ARTIST had.

TW: ANGST, mention of loss/death/addiction/sobriety/murder, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, addiction, substance abuse, drugs, alcohol, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, stalking, death by overdose, mentions of OD, passive aggressiveness, arguing,

Songs in this Chapter: La di die – Nessa Berrett Going to Hell | My Medicine | Heaven Knows – The Pretty Reckless

“Spence?”

Spencer looked up from his book.

Oh, so now he was allowed to talk with them about the case.

Since the briefing they hadn’t talked to him about anything. Spencer had to beg them, to let him work on this case.

He had really felt left out and why?

Because the stalking victim was a famous Rockstar with addiction issues. Spencer was hurt about his team not wanting him to be on the case because of this. Yes, he had struggled with addiction in the past, but he had been clean for over ten years now.

Was this unfair treatment…this distrust in his sobriety, ever going to stop?

It wasn’t like they had cared much about it when Emily had faked her death or when Maeve died, but this, for them, looked like a too high risk? Because there was a pretty girl involved?

He tried his best not to sound passive aggressive when responding.

“Yeah, JJ?”, with success.

“I asked if everything´s okay.”

“Sure. Why should anything be wrong?”, the blonde shrugged a little, an apologetic look on her face.

“Well the case-“ “It´s just a stalking case. Nothing we haven’t already seen. I actually wonder why we even need to come. The stalker isn’t aggressive and hasn´t hurt anybody. Right now he´s just importunate. The police should be able to catch this unsub themselves.”, he had accidently let a little of his passive aggressiveness slip and Emily, who was sitting next to JJ, looked at him.

“The record label convinced the police to contact us. They seem worried about their artist.”

“From what I know…this girl can take care of herself.”, Luke snickered, earning himself a ‘Come on, really?’-look from Emily. “Sorry, but have you seen or listened to her music? She could probably beat Reid in a fist fight.”

“Just because she´s making rock music, doesn’t mean she´s tough. But we should talk a little about the case, Reid if you ever feel unco-“, he quickly interrupted her with a snappy tone.

“Why, because she´s an addict? I don’t care about that.”, Emily lifted her hands in a calming manner.

“Okay, jeez. Just the way you´re on edge, since the briefing, doesn’t look like you are okay.”, Spencer took a deep breath, trying to talk calmer this time, now almost pleading in tone.

“I-I know. But I´m clean since was twenty-six. I never touched anything again and I don’t feel the need to. I even regulate my alcohol intake, never drinking more than a beer, maybe two glasses of whiskey. Which means, that statistically all of you are at a higher risk, of becoming addicted, during this case, then I am. You guys need to trust me.”, the dark haired woman sighed and nodded.

“You´re right. I´m- We´re just worried. You´re our friend, Spencer.”, she handed him a file. “Just promise me you talk to one of us, if something changes.”

He nodded opening the file. A picture of [y/n] looked at him. Dark heavy make-up, dark clothing and jet black hair with colorful streaks.

His younger self would´ve been as attracted as terrified of her.

He flipped through the pages. [y/n] [y/l/n]. Twenty-six years old. Stalker since approximately two years. Nothing extremely outstanding for a stalking case…which was kinda outstanding. No letters, no calls, no pictures, no break in, no threats…sometimes she would get random, expensive present delivered to her mansion, but that was it. Given that she was famous, this presents did not even have to be from a stalker.

“Are we sure there´s even is a stalker?”, Spencer frowned at his own question, Emily shrugged as a response.

“According to the manager, Philip Schuyler, since the first time she played his concerns down, he gets these calls of a man asking for [y/n] and how she is doing. The label didn’t take it serious after he told them, but then the unsub stole the last finished album from [y/n]´s band ‘Shot Monarch’, before it could get released and distributed, also erasing every digitally existing copy. He then called the manager and send the owner of the record label a letter; typed on a computer, no fingerprints; stating that he wanted to be taken serious. Later [y/n] got the USB, containing all her songs, with a dozen white lilies, her favorite, back per mail with an apology letter; stating that she had done nothing wrong and didn’t need to worry, since he could never harm her or her carrier. That´s when the label pushed the police to contact us.”

“Because they are worried about the music…not the woman.”, JJ sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, that´s the industry. At least her manager is worried. Police states that he got himself a gun license after that and tries to be everywhere [y/n] is.”, Luke added.

“Something about that is off.”, Spencer whispered, rubbing his stubbles, before looking at JJ, Emily and Luke again. “There is nothing that indicates a stalker, but every time somebody doubts his existence, he does something noticeable. I know she is famous and that comes with the stigma of having crazed fans as stalkers, but most stalking in general is committed by someone known to the victim, such as an ex-partner or acquaintance. We should check that out.”, JJ nodded.

“It would also be smart if one of us stays by her site.”, Luke quickly raised his hand.

“I volunteer. I- Like- Really! If necessary I´ll sleep in the SUV.”, Emily raised an eyebrow.

“Can it be that you´re a fan? I heard you and Penelope freak out a little over the case earlier.”, a shy smirk appeared on his lips.

“‘Shot Monarch’ has really good music. Since my road trip a year ago, I love their stuff. Penelope actually tol-”, Spencer interrupted him determined.

“I´ll do it.”, Emily quickly shook her head.

“Reid, no.” “Why not?”, his voice got high, making him quickly cleared his throat. “Because-“ “Because she is taking drugs. Do you trust me that little, Emily?”, Spencer snapped at her and she leaned back into her seat. Sure the others from the team were older than him, but he was in his late thirties, and yet was treated like a child.

“Fine. If you think you can handle it, do it. But stop being so sassy, I hate that.”, Emily looked at look in defeat. “Luke tell him what you know about [y/n] and the band.”, he nodded pulling out his phone.

“Okay so, [y/n] is the lead singer of ‘Shot Monarch’. She´s from a small town in Ohio and came to LA when she was eighteen, to become a singer after going viral. They are a band since five years, the name never really got explained by them, but it has something to do with the butterfly; at least that’s a fan theory I now from Penelope. Plus it makes sense, because [y/n] has a tattoo of one on the back of her hand.”, Luke flipped through some pictures of older man, reminding Spencer of bikers and insurance agents at the same time. Like middle-aged fathers that liked rock but still had a nine-to-five job.

“Hank, the guitarist, was a lawyer before and in a cover band with his high school friends Tom, the bassist, who worked for an insurance company, and Leroy, the drummer, who was history teacher and is also married to Hank. They met [y/n] at an open mic night and even though she´s twenty-six and they are in their late forties, early fifties, they got along so well, that they became a band. That´s ‘Going to Hell’ by the way. One of the more controversial songs.”, Luke pressed play on the video and already moved the lips to the lyrics.

“Father did you miss me,

Been locked up a while.

I got caught for what I did but took it all in style.

Laid to rest all my confessions I gave way back when.

Now I'm versed in so much worse,

So I am back again, and he said

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I make, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

“The guitar you´re hearing is a classic Hank. That guy knows what he´s doing.”, Luke added, seemingly in his element, reminding Spencer a lot of Garcia when she was excited.

Spencer nodded and watched the music video, the overall theme was dark and heavy. [y/n] voice was nice, a little smoky and strong, but everything just sounded so angry. Not really his style, although he preferred older, classical music in general over the ‘normal’ things ‘normal’ people liked. [y/n] wore tightfitting latex, while the men from her band mostly just wore black jeans and shirts, sometimes leather jackets. At one time, she was surrounded by snakes, only wearing white lingerie. She was really pretty, red lipstick making her look like a biting version of Snow White. Like a princess that would rather save herself, becoming the villain along the way, before letting someone else save her.

“Father did you miss me,

Don't ask me where I've been.

You know I know, yes, I've been told I redefine a sin.

I don't know what's driving me to put this in my head.

Maybe I wish I could die, maybe I am dead!

And he said

For the lives that I fake, I'm going to hell!

For the vows that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the ways that I hurt, when I'm hiking up my skirt.

I am sitting on a throne while they're buried in the dirt.

For the man that I hate, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

The lyrics and symbolistic in the video mocked parts of the Christian belief system. Such as the bite Eve had taken from the apple, showing [y/n] taking a bite from the forbitten fruit. The last supper and the crucifixion were shown with a dark twist too. This could be a hint of rebellion, to cope with religious trauma, or simply be a way to cause controversy.

“Please forgive me father,

I didn't mean to bother you.

The devil's in me father.

He's inside of everything I do.

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the laws that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I hate, I'm going to hell!

For the lies that I make, I'm going to hell!

For the way I condescend and never lend a hand.

My arrogance is making this head buried in the sand.

For the souls I forsake, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' married to the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

As the video ended Luke took his phone and put it back into his pocket.

“Their earlier stuff had a little more emotion to it, was about heartbreak, suffering and made you feel. This is one of the more recent ones and you can hear that it´s now mostly just stuff like sex, drugs and anger. Most people think that´s because [y/n] writes all of their music and she´s…seen better days…”, Luke sighed, trying to make it sound as polite as possible.

“Because she started taking drugs?”, Spencer raised his eyebrows, but Luke shook his head. “Oh, no. She, according to many rumors and an interview with her father, has taken drugs since she was a teen. But at this point…she just simply seems to have given up, having chosen to not go deeper with her songs anymore. I mean, they still slap. They just don’t slap your heart anymore, you know?”

“Not so nice, when your father talks to the press about your addiction. Could her father be a suspect?”, JJ asked, making Luke shrug and shake his head at the same time.

“Most likely not. He said in that interview that he wishes her the best, but doesn’t want to speak to her again.”, Emily mouthed a silent ‘ouch’, the whole talk about the rockstars private life making Spencer think.

“Maybe that´s part why she´s taking drugs? Often people use them to cope with-“, Emily interrupted him, profiling [y/n] and her substance abuse, quickly.

“Reid. We´re not going there to fix her, just the stalking situation.”, he nodded, knowing that he had a savior complex, always trying to help and save everybody.

“Exes?”, Spencer asked and Luke shook his head.

“Just one is known, Dean Lennox, singer, now married with kids. He and [y/n] were together for two years and according to him it was toxic. Like, always fighting, jealousy, distrust, fear of being left but she still didn’t want him close at the same time, lying. After their last breakup, he told a gossip magazine, he just couldn’t watch her destroy herself anymore. She never commented on it.”, JJ looked at Spencer worried.

“She seems like a handful, are you sure you can handle her alone?”, he chuckled while nodding.

“I´ve been through worse. How hard can it be to watch a twenty-six year old? When she, like Luke said, really doesn’t want anyone close, I´ll just sit on her couch and let her do her thing.”

*****

After landing in Los Angeles and checking into their hotel, the team drove to police station. There already waited a massage for them with an address. It was from the manager, he wrote that he was terribly sorry, but they needed to come to the recording studio, since the band was on a tight schedule all morning. Luke had tried his best, but Spencer could see his excitement through his tough-guy-façade. He, JJ, Luke and Emily took one of the SUV´s and drove to the address.

The building they entered was large and with great security. Expensive, white marble flooring in the entire entrance hall. They showed their batches to the lady at the front desk and the security, she called somebody and soon a short, pudgy man, dressed in a designer suit walked out of the elevator and up to them. He smiled at them friendly and shook everyone’s hand.

“Ah, the agents. I am so glad that you´re here. Hi. Hello. I´m Philip Schuyler, the manager of ‘Shot Monarch’.”, Emily shook his hand and pointed at the team.

“Nice to meet you. I´m unit chief SSA Prentiss, those are SSA Jareau, Alvez and that´s Dr. Spencer Reid. He will take on the job as bodyguard for Miss [y/l/n].”, the man scratched his brown hair, avoiding the bald spot on top.

“Yes, uhm, please just call her [y/n]. She really dislikes being called Miss [y/l/n]. We also already have police and security around her house, so I don’t know how important a personal bodyguard is. I really want this case solved and it would be terrible if we would hinder your work.”, Spencer lifted a finger.

“Actually, it would be better if I´m able to stay close to [y/n]. Normal police and security could probably oversee minor details about the stalker, Mr. Schuyler.”, the man waved off.

“Please, Mr. Schuyler was my father. Philip is completely fine. Everybody calls me that.”, he started walking to the elevator and the agents followed him. “Right now the band´s having a little break. After that, we need to record one more song for the ‘live in the studio’-version of their new album, that just came out. Are you familiar with their music?”, they got into the elevator and Luke already nodded.

“Yeah. Really great. Big fan.”, Emily lifted her hand, silencing Luke.

“I´m sorry. If that´s a problem we can-“, Philip laughed, interrupting her.

“Oh, no, no. [y/n] will love that. She likes meeting fans and showing off her music.”

They got out of the elevator, walked through the little hallway and entered the large double door in front of them. There was the recording studio. A lot of technical things, Spencer didn’t know much of, and a large glass wall in front of it, showing another room.

The recording room was large, with a black leather couch and beanbags in it and nice, warm, wooden flooring. A drum set was placed on an vintage looking, red carpet and the overall lighting was warm and inviting as well. The door to the room was open and he could hear the three men, from the band, talking and laughing inside.

“Guys, can you come out for a bit?”, Philip asked them and they looked up, walking up to them. “Okay, uhm, guys, those are the agents from the FBI. You know? The once coming because of [y/n]´s stalker.”, the largest man, a head taller than Spencer, smiled through his long grey beard that contrasted his bald head.

“Nice to meet you then, I´m Hank. That my husband Leroy,”, they shook hands with the dark skinned, skinny man, who in contrast to his husband was cleanshaven, with short black hair and glasses, “and that´s our friend Tom.”, the chubby, white, blond waved at them friendly.

“Why would like to talk with each of you individually, later at the police station, if that is possible.”, Emily said before introducing her team again, also mentioning Spencer´s duty as bodyguard. Leroy grimaced his face.

“Uh, [y/n] will hate that. The girl does not like being babysat.” “I´m not going to babysit her.”, Spencer answered, making Leroy chuckle. “That´s not how she will see it though.”, Hank sighed and put a hand on Spencer´s shoulder.

“Our girl is going through a lot right now. So it would be nice of you, to not take everything she´s saying personally, okay?”

“Personally?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows. He desperately hoped [y/n] wouldn’t be a bitch the entire time, since he couldn’t promise to not give her a piece of his mind, if so.

“[y/n]´s a little belligerent…Easy to get triggered and then she blows up like a bomb.”, Tom said and JJ cocked her head. “Is the stalking getting at her?”, Leroy shook his head. “Not really. But her mother died a few months ago and since then…little rough patch. She´ll get better. We all hit rock bottom once.”

“Is she going to therapy?”, Emily asked straight forward, making Tom, the chubby one chuckle. “Not since she hit the last therapist a few years ago. We paid his medical expenses and he was nice enough to not sue her. But we are here to help her, once she´s ready to let us.” “Must be exhausting, for you.”, JJ said empathetic and all the men waved off.

“Because of the drugs? No, it´s not that bad. She´ll collect herself. I have seven kids. Four of them are going through puberty right now. Phil has a toddler and Leroy and Hank have three rescue dogs and a couple of snakes. We can handle her.”, Tom laughed and the rest of the men started too.

“And that little stalker…Imma just say, I´m gonna rip him a new one, should I ever get the chance of meeting him. Counts for all of us.”, Hank added with everyone nodding in agreement.

“[y/n]´s a really nice girl and she´s been through a lot. If you´re nice to her, chances are high she´ll warm up to you and you won´t have any problems.”, Tom said to Spencer making him nod.

“And if she doesn’t?”, the tall doctor didn’t get an answer and just witnessed the rockers share a look.

Nice girl. Drug issues not so bad. Be nice and maybe she´s nice to you. For Spencer all of that sounded like he would have to walk around on eggshells, while she would blast through walls like a wrecking ball. The manager, Philip, checked his watch and looked around.

“So, where´s [y/n]? One more song and we´re done. Would be great not to hold up the investigation for too long.”

“She went to the toilet thirty minutes ago. We just ate our sandwiches. She said she wasn’t hungry.”, Leroy answered and at the same moment [y/n] walked in.

Spencer looked at her and for a moment forgot how to breathe. Short, high waisted, leather skirt, low cut, tank top and biker boots, all black, rounded off with fishnet stockings. [y/n] looked like she had climbed out of a teenagers wet dream. The perfect, little goth-girlfriend. She stretched a little and Philip looked at her.

“Bonjour, Philly.”, she said with a sassy undertone, while walking up to him and leaning on his shoulder. He was the same high as her, which wasn’t really tall, about 5,4, if Spencer had to guess.

“Hey, where were you?”, the pudgy man asked her.

“Took a nap in my car.”, she booped his nose and gave him a sheepish little smile. Spencer knew she was high. In fact the whole room knew it.

“You drove here?”, Tom asked shocked and [y/n] grinned sarcastically.

“I guess so, else somebody explain to me why my car´s here.”, Phillip patted her shoulder, looking worried as she took four pills out of an orange pillbox from her bag. He gave her a glass of water and she swallowed them. The men from her band looked at her concerned, making her give them a pearly white smile.

“Headache.”, she explained and they only nodded. Spencer couldn’t help but think, that she wasn’t having a headache and even if she had, it was probably a withdrawal symptom.

“You know that I don’t want you to drive when you´re…”, her manager looked at the agents and stopped talking, making her look at them as well.

“What? Why´d you stop talking? That the fun police?”, she started giggling at her own joke, making the band chuckle, since she clearly didn’t know how accurate she was with her joke.

“That´s the FBI, Princess.”, Hank told her and she made a fake shocked face and then laughed again.

“Officer- No wait, agents, right? I swear I did nothing wrong. Weed´s legal in Cali.”

The team shared some looks and Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes. [y/n] was not just on weed. Most definitely not just on weed.

“They are here because of your stalker.”, Philip explained and she shrugged almost disappointed.

“Oh, that guy. Well, then hello. Nice to meet you. I´m [y/n].”

She shook hands with JJ and Emily as they introduced themselves. Luke couldn’t help but breathe in sharply, as he shook her hand and almost choked on his own spit as an aftereffect. She started patting his back with wide opened eyes.

“Shit, you okay? Asthma?”, [y/n] reached into her black, designer handbag and gave him a bottle with clear liquid. Luke took a sip, quickly grimaced his face and began coughing harder.

“Vodka.”, he stated through his coughing. [y/n] quickly took the bottle from him and took a sip too, without flinching. She then started cracking up at her mistake.

“Whoops. Mixed up the bottles, the other´s probably in my car. Philly, can you bring him…?”, Philip nodded and gave Luke a fresh water bottle from the mini fridge.

Wow. Vodka hidden in a water bottle. Spencer licked his lips, taking in the view of her bandmates looking at each other. ‘Not that bad’ looked different. ‘Not that bad’ would not have her sleeping in her car, midday, with a bottle of ‘water’ and coming back high as a kite. Luke, by now, had stopped coughing and [y/n] stepped away from him again.

“You good?”, she asked him, watching him wipe away his tears.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry.”, the black haired girl waved him off.

“Nah, don’t worry. I had asthma till I was twelve.”, he shook his head.

“I- I- No asthma. Just a really big fan.”, she started laughing again and although the light was dimmed, Reid could clearly see Luke´s cheeks turning red.

“Oh, that´s cute. But ‘Take My Breath Away’ is by Berlin.”, that sentence actually made the whole room laugh except for Spencer, who didn’t understand the reference. “What´s your name?”

“Luke Alvez.”, she shook his hand again, this time he didn’t almost choke.

“Well, nice to meet you, Luke. What´s your favorite song of ours?”

“25, no doubt. Really amazing. Like a James Bond song.”, the bandmates chuckled.

“We said that too.”, Leroy snickered, patting Luke´s shoulder and [y/n] nodded.

“It´s also my favorite. Excited to hear one of the new songs?”, Luke nodded excited and she turned her head to Spencer. “We both don’t know each other yet. Hi, I´m [y/n] and you are?”

She sounded quite collected. Clearly high, but able to think straight if necessary. [y/n] must´ve been doing this for a while now, seeming to have figured out, how much she could handle while working. Spencer had been at that point too once. You wanted to do your work and be good at it, but needed to be high, to make it through the day. So you just tried over a period of time, bit by bit, how much you were able to take before doing a shitty job. ‘Not that bad’ didn’t make you figuring out a system to be high all the time.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.”, he shook her hand.

“Dr. Reid will be your bodyguard, [y/n].”, Philip explained and quickly earned an angry look, as she let go of Spencer´s hand instantly.

“What? I don’t need a bodyguard, we talked about this.”, she hissed at her manager, but then started laughing after looking Spencer up and down. “And then that guy?”, Philip nodded as she rolled her eyes at him. ‘Do not take it personally’, Spencer told himself.

“I am more than capable of protecting you.”, he stated as friendly as possible, making her giggle.

“From what? A difficult math question?”

[y/n] mocking tone started to piss him off, but as Spencer felt Emily´s look on him, he played it cool. After all, he had to proof himself able to handle her.

“Your stalker.”, he corrected her and she licked her lips, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, looking at Luke.

“Since you don’t have asthma, would you mind if I…?”, Luke shook his head and she smiled. “Nice.”, she looked back at Spencer, at his gun. “Philip has a gun too.” “But Philip isn’t an FBI agent.”, Hank told her, making her shake her head in protest, like a little child.

“That´s ridiculous. And all of that just because a stranger sends me stuff, people send me stuff all the time.”

“You should be more worried about this guy.”, Leroy said and Tom nodded in agreement. “Yeah, what if he´s dangerous?”

“What´s the worst that could happen, like honestly, Doctor?”, she cocked her head at Spencer, looking up at him with an almost flirty smile.

“He could kill you.”, he gave back objectively, making the rockers obviously worried. “Geez. You make that sound like it´s a bad thing.”, she snickered and looked over to Luke. “Luke, wanna hear some music?”, he nodded.

“It would be an honor.”, his sentence made her giggle as she walked past him.

“You´re really cute.”

[y/n] walked into the recording room, Tom, Leroy and Hank following her. She put on her headphones and lit a cigarette, putting the package on the little table next to her mic. Philip closed the door and started pushing some buttons on the sound mixer in front of him. JJ whistled impressed.

“You do the technical stuff too?”, he nodded, chuckling.

“Since the stalking started, I try having as little people near [y/n] as possible. Thought it might just be a little crush from a weirdo and when he doesn’t get to see her, he gets over it.” “We need a list of the people that worked here though.”, Emily told him and he nodded.

“Of course.”, then he pushed a button and started talking into his microphone. “You guys, ready? Last song. ‘My Medicine’, then we can go home.”

They all approved of his words and started to playing. [y/n] relighting her cigarette and clearing her throat. Spencer couldn’t tell if that was her simply not caring or doing it for the feeling of the song. However, it seemed to fit the style.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

“I love this already.”, Luke whispered and JJ chuckled.

“You haven’t even heard anything yet.”, she snickered.

“Doesn’t matter, the feeling is there.”, he lifted his arms, showing her his goosebumps.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

And somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

Spencer watched [y/n] starting to move to the rhythm, swaying her hips and tapping her left foot to the beat, then looked to Philip pressing some buttons.

“She´s gonna be happy with that one.”, he whispered almost to himself and the next time Spencer looked at the band again, it almost felt like she was attentionally singing in his direction.

“Well I drink what you leak and I smoke what you sigh

See you cross the room with that look in your eye

Got a man to his left and a girl to his right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

She started moving her head in a way that made her long black hair fall in her face, framing her features almost delicately. While Spencer starred and earned some grins from [y/n], he could hear Luke whisper with Emily, who actually seemed to like the music too.

“There's a tiger in the room and a baby in the closet”

The room laughed and Spencer looked confused, having JJ tell him, that it was a movie reference. Sometime he felt like an alien, having such simple references fly over his head. Star Trek or Book references would´ve been easier for him…although he still didn’t know what that ‘Twilight’ book was Penelope and JJ talked about a couple of times. Or that other book all the women had talked about in their break….what was it called, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’? They had told him it was a romance novel, so he just assumed it was like ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen.

“Pour another drink mom I don't even want it

Then I turn around and think I see someone that looks like you”

Philip pressed some buttons again, [y/n] now harmonizing with herself.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again again

And somebody mixed my medicine

Again, again, again

Again, again, again”

The music started to slow down again, just like [y/n] movements, making Luke whisper words in awe.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

Philip and the team applauded as [y/n] took her headphones off and the men put their instruments away.

“I´m happy with that.”, she said looking at Philip. “You, Philly?”

“Sounded great to me.”, he gave back, happy to answer.

“What about my new favorite fan. Luke?”, Luke quickly pushed Spencer aside to get to the microphone.

“Loved every second of it! Like- Amazing! Really!”, she giggled, throwing her head back and came through the door.

“What about my new guard dog?”, Spencer pointed at himself, not knowing if she was talking about him. “Of course you. So, what do you think, Doctor?”

“I- I don’t really know.”, she raised her eyebrows at his answer.

“Okay? Was it the drugs or just the music in general?”, he felt himself go pale. “Ah, okay. You´re prude, get it. I mean you already have that whole tutor-thing about you, so…Bach or Chopin?”

“Pardon?” “Which one? Or is it Mozart, or the deaf bitch, Beethoven?”, she grinned snarky.

[y/n] had a mocking tone in her voice, making Spencer feel embarrassed and like he was in school again, when the other kids in high school were making fun of him for not being cool enough. But he was too old to be bullied by a little junkie, who thought she was better than him.

“I´m surprised somebody like you would even know them.”, her smile vanished.

“Little bitch.”, she snapped at him, stepping closer as he cocked his eyebrows at her. Philip quickly walked between the two of them and smiled.

“So, what are we doing next? The albums done. Taken care of. [y/n] have you eaten something today? You wanna go out for dinner?”

“No, I haven’t and no, I don’t want to, when THAT is around.”, with ‘that’ she clearly meant Spencer.

“Now don’t be grumpy, Princess. You started it.”, Hank told her and she started to pout, shoulders relaxing.

“Wasn’t worth my time anyways.”, she murmured and Spencer felt himself getting proud. This was the first person, trying to bully him, he had stand a chance against.

“So, we´re gonna need you at the police station, if that´s okay?”, Emily asked Leroy, Hank and Tom, who nodded. “And Spencer, you should take [y/n] home and check out her house.” “Mansion.”, [y/n] corrected Emily. “I have a mansion. Worked too hard to have it being called a house.”, Emily only nodded, not letting herself get bothered by her words. Philip nodded, completely ignoring his clients snappiness too.

“I follow you in my car.”, he told Spencer. “[y/n] give Dr. Reid your keys, please.”, she shook her head indignant.

“No. That guy is not driving my car. I´ll drive.”, the whole band now started saying no.

“[y/n], you´re not driving.”, Tom ordered and Leroy nodded. “You´ll get an DUI so quick, it´s not even funny.”, Spencer lifted his hand, waiting for the key. “Oh, come on.”, she groaned, looking at her bandmates like her childish behavior would change their mind.

A nice sound. An annoying person, not getting what they want. Almost as beautiful as her [y/e/c] eyes, that actually were rather bloodshot, when Spencer thought about it.

“Should the police pull you over and see that you´re high, they´ll look through your car and I don’t think you want be taking in custody for drug possession, right?”, she handed him her keys and Spencer couldn’t help it and whispered “Thank you”, in the most mocking tone he was able to.

“Fucking cunt.”, she whispered back at him and he just chuckled.

“I´ve been called worse. So your little words don’t hurt me…sorry.”, she then grinned.

“Things like Spencer?”, [y/n] asked him, spitting his name like poison.

Spencer took a deep breath and watched her go out the door, telling himself to not answer her.

“Hey, kid.”, Spencer looked at Hank and he just lifted his thumb.

“You held yourself better than we thought you would.”, Leroy added, Emily looking at Spencer concerned.

“You sure you can handle her?”

He nodded, walking out the door and to the elevator which doors [y/n] was holding open for him.

“Hurry up, bitch boy! I wanna go home.”

*****

Of course the rich, spoiled brat drove an imported sportscar. When Spencer got in, he firstly had to push back the seat, not having enough room for his legs and then tried getting [y/n] to tell him where she lived.

“Try google, smart ass.”, was her answer and he sighed.

[y/n] then rolled down her window and grabbed a joint from her glove compartment. Spencer quickly leaned over and snatched it from her hand, making her whine as she tried getting it back.

“You´re such a bitch. Give me-“, he interrupted her whining.

“No. First tell me you´re address.”, she sat back into her seat.

“Fine. I´ll lead you there.”, [y/n] said, making grabbing motions with her hand and he handed her the joint back. She lit it and smoked out of the window.

Spencer knew he should have questioned why she gave up and let him win so easily. After ten minutes they weren’t at her mansion, they were at a McDonald´s.

“You´re fucking kidding me, right?”, he snapped at her and she began to giggle.

“You´re kina hot when you´re angry.”, her flirty grin and the way she bit her lip made him furious, because it was hot.

“What is wrong with you?”, Spencer almost yelled and she leaned back and pointed somewhere. “I´m hungry. Drive-Through. Over there.”

“No.” “Come on. Don’t be a bitch, dog.”, she snickered, resting her feet on the dashboard.

He looked at her, for a second thinking about simply getting out of the car and leaving, before he could hurt her. Maybe she was really too much for him to handle, the drugs were manageable, but it was her personality that drove him mad, yet he wasn’t someone to give up easily. Cars started to honk behind them.

“You´re holding up the traffic. I just wanted something to eat.”, [y/n] said, now almost annoyed because she wasn’t getting what she wanted. Spencer took a deep breath.

“Okay.”, she looked at him confused.

“Okay?”, he nodded, pulling into the Drive-Through. He was above this. ‘Give her what she wants, so she´s at least quiet.’

“You win.”

She started clapping and hugged him, smelling like marijuana and something he couldn’t quite make out. When they came up to the microphone box, [y/n] crawled over Spencer´s lap, forcing him to look and think respectfully. She ordering a bunch of stuff and then looked at him.

“What do you want? I only have booze at home, so…”, he looked at her a little startled. Was she trying to be nice to him?

“You wanna buy me something?”, she nodded like this behavior was normal to her. “Sure.”

“Surprise me. I never eat fast food, I don’t know what´s good.”

She nodded and then told the voice from the box to double her order. Sitting back into her seat, [y/n] took out a hundred dollar bill from her purse, handing it to Spencer. When they pulled up by the window, taking their things, the woman in the window nearly lost it when she saw the rockstar, starting to cry. [y/n] was really nice to her and asked her if she wanted to take a photo in the parking lot. Of course the woman said yes and after paying, where [y/n] had left almost fifty bucks as a tip, Spencer had to park and wait till they had made the photo and given an autograph.

“Okay, now drive before it goes viral. I wanna eat that stuff before it gets cold.”, she told him, taking a sip of one of the milkshakes.

“That was nice.”, she shrugged and then told him her address, telling him she´d scream when they reached it.

*****

Lo and behold, no twenty minutes later they parked in front of [y/n] mansion, next to another, more run down car, belonging to Philip. The mansion would´ve made Rossi´s mansion cry. At least twice as big and the property was enormous. In contrast to [y/n], it was very light and minimalistic from the outside and the inside.

“Most rooms are empty. Too big.”, she explained walking straight into the open living area, that had a large terrace with pool and a view over the Hollywood hills. She put the paper bags filled with food on the large kitchen island and sat on a barstool.

“You could sell it and buy a smaller one.”, [y/n] shrugged and took out a burger, starting to eat it.

“Philip says I´m gonna grow into it.”, she answered, mocking the tone of voice her manager had probably had.

Spencer watched her type something on her phone and a minute later Philip came into the room.

“Hey, where were you? I got worried.”, he asked them and [y/n] handed him a salad.

“It´s the one you always have.”, he smiled at her.

“Thank you. You´re so nice.”, she shrugged at his words, not really caring.

“Yours is in here too, dog.”, she now told spencer.

Ah, yes. She was being bitchy again. Spencer had only waited for it to happen. He said nothing, but walked up to the white kitchen isle and took the bag she pointed at.

“Milkshake, burger, fries. Fast food essentials.”, she stated, finishing her small cheeseburger and getting up to her fridge, taking out a beer. She held it to Spencer who declined and then to Philip who did the same. “Lame asses.”, she chuckled, opening it and standing at the counter, watching Spencer eat. “So you´re here for…?”

“Technically it would be the easiest for all of us, if I just stayed.”, she raised her brows.

“Staying like, in my house staying?”, he nodded and she shook her head. “No chance. I enjoy my solitude.”

“[y/n]. If it´s easier for the agent and better for you…”, she sighed, opening a drawer and taking out some pills, swallowing them with her beer. “Fucking hell. But don´t expect me to be considerate of you.”, the rockstar told him.

“Should you consume them with alcohol?”, Spencer asked, taking a bite of his burger and she shrugged.

“I´m going to sleep…you guys…do what you want, I don’t care…”

“Do you need me to do your laundry?”, Philip asked and [y/n] shrugged again, it seemed to be her favorite motion. As she walked down the hallways and Phillip yelled after her. “Don’t forget that you have a gig tonight, [y/n]!”

“THAT`S WHY I`M GOING TO SLEEP NOW, DUMB ASS! WAKE ME UP WHEN WE NEED TO GO!”, she yelled back, followed by the smashing of a door.

“She´s a nice girl.”, Philip said in the middle of the silence, as Spencer took place on one of the barstools.

“Like a car crash.”, the man in his fifties chuckled.

“I know she´s difficult, but in here she´s good.”, he pointed at his heart. “She has suffered a lot of losses in her life.”

“Then, just as a random thought, you should get into therapy before she OD´s.”, Spencer answered sassy.

“I know what you mean. But as long as she doesn’t want help or overdoes it…she has a system.”, Spencer let his head fall back and groaned.

“You know about that fucking thing?” “You too?”, Philip asked back in surprise. “Profiler. Took me no longer than the nap in her car, to figure that out.”

Yes, a small lie from Spencer, but it sounded better then: Oh yes, I was addicted to dilaudid once. I had a system too!

“Tell me, how does that train wreck of a system work?”, Philip leaned back from his salad.

“Well, she takes her painkillers in the morning and smokes some cannabis to get out of bed. When we´re touring or she has to be at shootings, interviews or anything else that needs her to focus, she only smokes and takes the pills all day, alcohol in water bottles is a new one though.”, Spencer sighed and thought if he even wanted to know more.

“And when she´s alone or not busy?” “Then she does the harder stuff.” “Harder stuff like cocaine, LSD…?”, Philip nodded. “Nothing with needles though…she´s scared of them.”

“She will not always be, if she continues like that.” “I know. That´s why I do my best to keep her busy. She even has her own recording studio here, knows how to handle everything herself. I thought it might make her spend more time making music than getting high. I also go out with her a lot, to a point where my wife starts to get jealous.”, he laughed bittersweetly. “Have you ever been to Disney World, agent?”, Spencer shook his head. “I take [y/n] there once a week, because she likes it there. I spend more time with her there then with my own daughter.”, [y/n] was famous, no chance people wouldn’t notice her.

“Does she even get to do anything there?”

“Not often. She mostly meets her fans there, but she loves that a lot. She is really sweet to them too, they mean everything to her.”

That was the first time Philip had said something that was true about [y/n]. She had, not once been mean to a fan. The complete opposite actually. She had been nice and thoughtful, going out of her way to make the woman at the Drive-Through happy and was nice to Luke.

“I know she was a little mean to you today, but she also bought us food, seeing it as a matter of course. There are two sides to every person, like a coin.”, Like a coin, just that [y/n] sides flipped as quickly like one too. Philip sighed and got up from his barstool. “I´ll show you around a little, if you want to.”

Spencer nodded, getting up, following the short man around the house.

*****

[y/n] had been right.

It was way too big and many of the rooms were empty. When Spencer asked Philip about the necessity of such a big mansion, he told him, that he had hoped to motivate [y/n] to have a family one day. But now the only rooms in use were her bedroom, one of the five guest bedrooms, which Spencer got to stay in, the open living area with kitchen and living room, the recording studio and a little library. The latter made Spencer a little jealous. In the middle of the room even stood a white piano with notes on it. [y/n] also had a lot of books, all dusty, because she never read anymore. He would´ve killed to have his own library…she probably didn’t even value what she had.

When they returned into the living area, Philip gave Spencer some spare keys, beginning to clean up a little and putting the food in the fridge. [y/n] didn’t lie, when she said, she only had alcohol at home. JJ came over and brought Spencer his go bag, asking him how it was going. Of course he said he was doing great, but couldn’t help but rant to her about [y/n]´s behavior.

“Well, she is an addict, Spence. You know how erratic some drugs can make you.”, he nodded.

“Yeah, but she really tries pushing me and then, one second to the other, she´s nice and polite. Have you talked to her bandmates?”, JJ laughed.

“Way too long. We had interviews with them and then Luke just couldn’t stop talking to them, he has also taken about a million pictures with them and facetimed Penelope so she could meet them too.”, Spencer chuckled.

“Sounds like they had a good time. Anything else happened? Found out something?”

“[y/n]´s mother was an addict and left the family when she was younger. When she found out her daughter was famous, she got back in touch with her, to borrow money. [y/n] didn’t care and even got her to live with her, in one of the guest bedrooms. She overdosed a few months ago, since then [y/n]´s addiction got worse.”, Spencer´s eyes got wide.

“She didn’t die in the guest bedroom though, right?”

Just as JJ wanted to answer, [y/n] walked in. Philip walking behind her with a duffle bag.

“She died in the bathroom and she didn’t overdose perse, she drowned after falling unconscious in the bathtub, while being high.”, she answered cold, seeming to have overheard their conversation. [y/n] grabbed a beer from the fridge and continued calmly while taking some colorful pills. “I found her. The bathroom that it happened in is always locked. Don´t worry.”, Philip fidgeted a little with his hands, looking for his keys.

“Uh-Uhm. Agents? We need to go. The concert…”

“You coming too?”, [y/n] asked, looking at JJ and she shrugged. “We could also invite the cute one…Luke. It´s about 20.000 people so two more won´t hurt…right Philly?”, Phillip nodded.

“You´re all invited. SSA Prentiss as well.”, he said and JJ smiled at them.

“Thank you. That´s very nice, but I´ll have to talk to them first.”, [y/n] shrugged at that and drank her beer.

“You have my number, just call when you know. We start half past eight.”, Philip then took the empty beer bottle from [y/n] and threw it away. “Show time.”

*****

Half an hour into the concert Luke had shown up, completely hyped.

“What did I miss? We had some ex-staff members to talk to. Did they already play ‘Going to Hell’?”, Spencer nodded. “Argh, dammit. Doesn’t matter, that song´s amazing too.”

During the whole concert Spencer watched [y/n]. The music wasn’t that bad, a little harsh, but it was mix of hard and alternative rock after all. At least that´s what Penelope said, when Luke started facetiming her. After the last costume change, Spencer pulled [y/n] aside. He asked her to not be so ‘touchy’ with her fans. Since she would kneel down and hold their hands. He tried telling her about the risks of having the unsub in the audience, but she only laughed.

“I´ll be as touchy as I want, bitch.”, he started to frown.

“At least don’t stagedive. Luke says you always do that and the risk of the unsub use-“, she interrupted him, wanting to go on stage.

“Fuck off, dog.”, he held her arm, trying to reason with her.

“Can you ple-“, she tried pulling away, like an angry child.

“No.” “Stop being so fuck-“, [y/n] interrupted him again.

“Stop trying to fucking babysit me.”

“I just want to hel-“, she ripped her arm away. “Yeah, fuck you too.”, the rockstar answered, not letting him finish and walked back on stage.

Philip walked up to Spencer, having seem the ordeal of him trying to talk to [y/n] and him now driving the heel of his palm into his eyes. This girl gave him migraines.

“What happened?”, Philip asked and Luke answered for Spencer.

“He told her not to stagedive.”, Philip laughed a little and shook his head.

“Oh yeah. Never tell her what to do. She hates that and then does it out of spite.”

“You don’t say?”, Spencer answered sarcastically.

On stage [y/n] took her microphone, saying something to her bandmates and then smiling sweetly, while talking to her fans.

“This next song is for my lovely new babysitter, who thinks he can tell me what to do.”, the crowd started booing and she laughed. “I know, I know. But it looks like he doesn’t know how things work around here…So I think we have to help him out a little.”

The music started to play and Luke patted Spencer´s arm.

“She dedicates ‘Heaven Knows’ to you! Penny have you heard? She sings ‘Heaven Knows’ for Reid!”

“NO! SHUT UP!”, the blonde on the phone squeaked.

He and Garcia started to freak out while Spencer watched [y/n] clapping her thigh and stomping to the beat.

“Jimmy's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close, you can hear him cry

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Sing it!”

She lifted the mic to her audience she started to sing for her.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below, way down below, way down below

“Judy's in the front seat picking up trash

Livin' on the dole, gotta make that cash

Won't be pretty, won't be sweet

She's just sittin' here on her feet singin'

Oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Go!”

Again her fans obeyed her, Luke and Penelope freaking out next to Spencer. If it wouldn’t have been a moment, were he had to fear which move she had planned next to unnerve him, he might have even enjoyed this song and the involvement of her fans in it.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

“Sing, oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below”

She now looked at him for a moment, while her audience sang. Before, again, walking around the stage, touching her fans hands.

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've had better days, man, I've seen better days

I've had better ways, man, I know better ways

One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door

Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie

Show your life with your head held high

Now you're on your knees with a head on low

Big man tells you where to go

Tell them it's good, tell 'em ok

Don't do a goddamn thing they say”

Spencer was surprised how well her fans knew her lyrics. She would just have to point at them or lift her mic and they would instantly sing were she stopped. Not missing a beat.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've seen better ways, and I know better ways

I've seen better days, man, I've got better days”

[y/n] now stood at the edge of the stage, back turned to her audience. She smiled directly at Spencer, fingers held like a gun to her head.

“Gina's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close you can hear the cryin'”

At the last word she mimicked shooting herself and let herself fall back into the crowd. Her fans got wild and continued her song, while Spencer certainly not in a long time, if ever, felt so much spite and frustration against a woman, other than Cat Adams.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Singin' oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh, Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

The crown placed [y/n] back on her stage, where she walked up to her bandmates again, waving at Spencer and Luke with the sweetest smile.

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

*****

After the concert and the encores she and the band got behind stage, where Spencer for the least thirty minutes had waited to give her a piece of his mind. As [y/n] giggled and walked up to him and Luke. He grabbed her arm, a little harsher than planned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, she blinked at his yelling, answering with her innocent eyes blinking and a mocking tone.

“What´s the prob, dog?”

“What´s- Do you really care so little for your own safety?”, Hank came up to them, having seen Spencer´s grip on the girls arm.

“Hey! What´s going on here? [y/n], are you okay?”, Spencer quickly let go of her.

“Yeah, the dog is just pissing himself because I stage dived.”, he quickly took a deep breath.

“I´m not pissing myself, [y/n], but I told you not to do it. What would you have done when your stalker would´ve been in the crowd and lost it? Nobody would´ve been able to get to you fast enough and help!”, Hank looked at her in disappointed shock.

“Is that true, [y/n]?”, the black haired girl ignored her friend and just continued arguing with Spencer.

“Well, maybe I don’t want anybody’s help!”, she hissed at Spencer.

“Then why are we even here?”, Spencer hissed back. “BECAUSE I BRING MONEY! Else the label would let me rot in a fucking corner! GOD! You are ruining my after-show-high. I hate you!”, [y/n] yelled and Spencer tried not to yell back, tried to be the bigger person, only hissing back at her.

“Oh, trust me. That feeling is mutual.”, she swallowed hard and then turned around, stomping away.

*****

After half an hour waiting, Spencer got a call from Philip, telling him that [y/n] refused to see him again and would be sleeping at his house tonight. He told him, that he should just let himself into the mansion and eat what´s in the fridge. It wasn’t from use, to try talking to [y/n], when she was that angry. Tomorrow Philip would call him and bring her back into Spencer´s care.

Spencer did as told, Luke driving him to the mansion, telling him that it wasn’t his fault. He then got into the large, empty mansion and grabbed himself a well-deserved beer. Being alone in this big house was depressing. After his third beer he stopped, walking into his room.

He pulled his blue and gold sobriety token, he had gotten for being clean ten years, out of his bag. Thumb rubbing over the golden X in the middle of it. He actually had deserved a twelve year token by now, but since prison didn’t actively attended the meetings anymore, having grown past it. Yet, he still kept the tokens he had, close to him.

They reminded him of his achievement, reminded him to be proud at himself.

Spencer never wanted to fall back into the dark hole he was in, when he was addicted, and even when [y/n] would throw tantrum after childish tantrum, she wouldn’t cause him to relapse. He was stronger than this. Stronger than her.

To be continued...

Give me your feedback [also anonymous!]

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #post prison spencer #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #angst #reid x you #spencer x y/n #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid reader insert #spencer x reader #reader insert #spencer reid x you #rainincaliforniaff

62 notes · View notes

onlysarah235678 · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Bit Part 17

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Hi there! I hope everyone has survived this week of storms and everything else. ❤️. Angst in the beginning of this one. I’m wrapping things up but we still have some loose ends to tie up….LOOK AT THIS GIF. 😍

Warnings: angst, mentions of domestic abuse, mention of attempted sexual assault (I did the thing with the *** again).

You and Billie take Milo on a longer walk than you usually would at this time of day. It was almost dark, so there weren’t many people around making the walk a quiet one. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were dragging your feet a little to buy yourself some time. You intend on keeping your promise to Billie by telling her what was bothering you, but you keep doubting your decision.

Billie had told you that she didn’t care about your baggage. At the very least, she’d said that it wouldn’t change her feelings for you. Still, you hate to bring the issue up again because it seems like it’s been forever since you two just had a conversation about something nice, casual, and not stressful. You can’t remember the last time you two went out on a date, and you hate how tense and stressful everything is between you.

Maybe it was just your insecurities, but you sigh as you and Billie come up on the end of the neighborhood. You’re probably going to turn around soon, if Milo would stop peeing.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

You feel some of your anxiety melt away at that familiar term of endearment, and you turn toward Billie with a small smile. You squeeze her hand before shaking your head in refusal. You don’t really want to talk about this now because you are almost certain you’ll be crying for at least some of this conversation. Still, you don’t want to leave Billie hanging so you tell her the truth. At least as much of it as you’re willing to at the moment.

“I’m just thinking about everything that’s happened in the past few months. How much has changed.”

Billie doesn’t respond immediately. She watches how you turn back around, heading for home, with a faraway look. It seems more contemplative than anything else, but Billie can’t figure out what you’re trying to say.

“Good and bad?”

You smile as Milo leads the three of you back to Billie’s. He’s eager for his treat because he picks up the pace a little, but you just hold his leash tighter so he doesn’t drag you. You’re not really in the mood for that tonight.

“Yes, luckily more good than bad recently.”

You shoot Billie a charming smile that she practically melts at. She pulls you towards her so you’re close enough to kiss, and you laugh as you practically fall into the medium.

You mean what you say. That more good things have happened to you than bad. Unfortunately, the bad is starting to catch up with you due to your failure to deal with anything that really bothers you. You shut it out and you’re learning quickly that this is not a good thing. You know you need to work on this, but you’re just not sure how. How do you come to terms with things that are over and done with? Things that you hate to talk about?

Billie waits patiently as you find your next words. You look to Milo with a smile. He’s looking back at you and Billie occasionally, as if making sure that you’re still there. You are once again reminded of how much your dog means to you, and how much he’s helped you these past few months.

“Things just started stacking up, you know? I didn’t deal with how my ex made me feel, and then my dad’s death, and now with this asshole I don’t even really know? It just seems like at this point it’s all too overwhelming. That I’m better off ignoring it.”

You can feel Billie about to respond to this, so you beat her to it with a sigh of defeat.

“I know I'm not, Billie. I just. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

You wait for what feels like years as Billie considers what you’re saying. She can’t really pretend like she knows how you feel, or what your logic is for not dealing with your problems. Having so many traumatic things happen in such rapid succession can leave anyone a little dazed and unsure of how to proceed. All she knows is what you told her, so Billie tries not to assume anything as she finally shoots you a smile.

You don’t notice because you’re too busy looking around for something. Billie doesn’t realize this until you fail to respond, or even acknowledge what she’s said after a few seconds.

“Well, what is it that makes you want to deal with it now?”

You’re too busy staring at a car that looks familiar to realize that Billie’s responded. You walk past the car that you swear was about a block away from Billie’s when you left before you look back to the medium. You see that she’s looking at you expectantly, and suddenly it clicks that you’ve missed something. You apologize before looking back over your shoulder with a frown.

“Sorry, I just—does that car look familiar to you? I feel like I’ve seen it multiple times on this walk already.”

You know it’s possible that there is more than one gold SUV in this neighborhood, but you can’t help but be a little paranoid. Billie frowns too as she looks to the car that they just passed. She honestly hadn’t been paying much attention to anything other than you and Milo. Mostly what you said and what she could sense from you. She shakes her head before turning back to you, and telling you the truth.

“Sorry, Y/N. I haven’t really been paying attention.”

You just nod at this before you decide that you’re just being paranoid. You continue down the street and you’re almost to Billie’s before you realize that you hadn’t asked what Billie had said at all.

“Wait, what were you saying earlier? I got distracted by potential stalkers.”

Billie just smiles at you as she shakes her head and turns to look at the dog that is coming your way. She watches as you hold Milo’s leash tighter and steer him in the other direction as he spots the dog and immediately starts tugging.

“Milo, knock it off.”

He listens, sort of, and you only have to move him to your other side, in between you and Billie for him to calm down.

“It’s okay. We can talk about it when we get back.”

You take this as an excuse to put it off again, so you simply nod before allowing your mind to wander.

Before you know it, you’re back at Billie’s and you’re taking care of Milo while Billie checks on the cats. It’s only 8 pm but you’re exhausted and could sleep now. You leave Milo in the living room as you head upstairs to take a shower. You go check on Billie first and you smile as you peek your head into the laundry room to see her sitting next to the kittens. As usual Bit barely acknowledges your presence.

“Hey, I’m going to shower, do you need anything?”

Billie just smiles at you and shakes her head. You’re not surprised to see that she’s holding Mickey and you smile at the adorable sight before leaving with a sigh. You can feel your headache coming back just at the thought of the conversation you started on the walk. You could just drop it and worry about it tomorrow, but you wanted to be honest. You also wanted someone to tell you that you were being ridiculous.

As you take off your clothes, find a towel and turn on the shower you think about how irrational you’re being. You have only run into Doug maybe half a dozen times since you moved to LA. You realized that you both like to go on early morning walks, in your case with Milo, every day and you at least saw each other maybe every other week. That wasn’t a big deal, and you knew it, but since you started dating Billie, you’d learned what a homophobic asshole he was. You almost felt like he sought you out sometimes, but that was ridiculous.

Right?

You think back to the last time you saw Doug, before he pushed you down the stairs. It had been in the mail room and he’s muttered a slur under his breath before leaving. He hadn’t touched you then, but clearly that hadn’t stuck. You think about how easy it should be to avoid him and how there was no real reason to be afraid.

As you’re standing in the shower trying to convince yourself that Doug isn’t a threat, you realize why you’re so fixated on this. Why you’re giving someone who doesn’t deserve a second thought, so much of your time and energy.

You groan under your breath at your own stupidity. Then you curse yourself for not knowing where to go from here, despite knowing what you need to do.

Why did life have to be so hard?

By the time you’re out of the shower your headache is back full-force. You groan as you manage to change clothes before you have to sit down on the bed. You close your eyes and just try to relax and will away your headache, but your head is still pounding almost 10 minutes later. You lie down on the bed and groan under your breath. You don’t realize how long you lay there until you almost fall asleep.

Milo gets bored downstairs and decides to come and look for either you or Billie. Since Billie was still with the kittens, he finds you first and he hurriedly pushes his way into the room and over to you. He starts pawing at your arm and you groan again before turning away from him.

“No, Milo stop! Go away.”

You hope that this will be enough to get your dog to leave you alone, but really you know Milo better than that. He sits down and whines loudly before he decides to take matters into his own hands. He circles the bed and jumps up on to it, jostling you and making your head throb annoyingly. You open your eyes to glare at him when he starts to lick your face.

“No! Bad Milo. Get down!”

Milo whines but he listens to you, and is on the ground by the time Billie is coming into the room. She looks inside, immediately seeing you curled up on the bed with your head under a pillow and Milo looking pitiful from where he sits on the floor just staring at you.

“Are you alright?”

You don’t have the energy to turn and face Billie and that really tells her all that she needs to know. Still, she cuts off the lights and walks towards the bed with a frown. You sigh before you chance a look out from under the pillow to see that Billie has turned off the lights. You know you shouldn’t be, but you’re surprised by this. Eventually you wave Billie off ineffectively.

“My head hurts, but it’s okay. I just need to lie here.”

Billie doesn’t say anything for a little while. She does some math in her head, realizing that you just took your meds before looking to Milo when he whines. She watches you flinch slightly at the sound and she makes the decision to take him off your hands.

“Other than taking Milo, is there anything I can do for you?”

You smile at this before removing the pillow from you face and turning so you are looking at Billie. You shake your head before regretting it instantly and cringing at your stupidity.

“That’s more than enough, thank you. I really think I just need to sleep it off.”

Billie doesn’t argue with you and she just leaves hoping that you’ll feel better sooner rather than later. She takes Milo downstairs with her, and gives him a treat when he sits down in the living room. She tries getting some work done, but she’s distracted and not worried enough about the interview to really focus. She’ll have all day tomorrow, not that she needed it, so she closes her computer before looking to Milo.

He’s licking his paws clean, but he looks up at Billie when she stands. He’s quick to get up too as Billie walks to the kitchen to get something to drink. She drinks most of a glass of wine standing at the counter as she stares out the window. It’s dark so she can’t see anything really, but she looks to where she knows the garden is, and wonders who would have snuck back there.

She’s afraid that she knows who it is, or at least why they were back there and she sighs in defeat. She considers how likely it is that you will continue to be bothered. She hopes that the novelty wears off soon, but there’s really no telling at this point. Billie just hopes that they leave you alone at least until you are feeling better.

Billie finishes her wine and cleans the kitchen before glancing at the clock. It’s a little early for her to sleep, but she figures she’ll walk Milo one last time and then check on the cats before going to bed. She would have to check on you too, but she was certain you were asleep at this point.

You are upstairs failing to sleep when your phone goes off from somewhere in the room. You groan, not sure of where you’d left it, and you are tempted to ignore it until it continues to vibrate. You sit up in bed forcing your eyes open as you scan the room. It is completely dark except for the dim light of your phone in the middle of the floor. Why had you left it there?

You sigh in relief when it finally stops vibrating, but you decide that you need to get it in case it starts again. You throw the covers that you’d managed to crawl under off of you before swinging your legs off to the side of the bed. You don’t bother standing up, you just drop to your knees before crawling towards you phone. You’re glad you’re alone because this probably looks as weird as it is, but you get your phone without aggravating your headache too much.

You silence it and carry it back with you before putting it on the side table. You groan under your breath as you simply close your eyes and just wait until you summon the energy to crawl back into bed. You glance at your phone realizing it is already 10, and you just hope that Billie will take care of Milo because you are not about to go downstairs to walk him.

You are almost asleep when Billie comes to check on you a little while later.

After taking care of the kittens and walking Milo, Billie gets ready for bed. She decides to leave Milo downstairs for the night, and he doesn’t seem to mind as he gets settled in the living room. She glances to your door before retreating into her room. She changes clothes, brushes her teeth and washes her face before she looks to her bed. She wants to check on your before sleeping, so she sneaks down the hall and opens the door as quietly as possible.

She looks in and sees that you’re under the covers and appear to be asleep. She turns to leave, starting to shut the door until she hears you shift and groan under your breath.

“Billie?”

Billie releases her hold on the door before she speaks as quietly as possible.

“Hi, Y/N. I was just checking to see if you needed anything?”

You don’t respond immediately, and you just sigh before shifting so you’re closer to the middle of the bed. You stifle a yawn as you speak up just loudly enough for Billie to hear.

“Yes, please. Come sit?”

Billie realizes that you’re making room for her and she sighs before walking further into the room. She shuts the door behind her before coming to stand at the side of the bed, watching as you throw back the covers for her.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you need? Water or--?”

You just shake your head before patting the bed with a yawn. “Nope. Just you.”

Billie sighs in defeat as she simply nods before getting into bed next to you. She’s careful not to jostle you too much, but as soon as she’s lying under the covers, you’re moving closer to her. You wrap your arms around her tentatively before you peer up at her with a curious look that’s lost on her due to the darkness.

“Is this okay?”

Billie just smiles before telling you that it’s fine, so you lie down with your head on her shoulder before you close your eyes.

Billie is near sleep when you speak up again. She opens her eyes in surprise because she was certain that you had fallen asleep. She hadn’t expected you to speak so suddenly and she jumps slightly before turning to see that you’re looking at her. It’s too dark to really make out your expression, but Billie guesses that you’re frowning based on what you said.

***

“I never told you what was bothering me.”

Billie starts to shake her head but then realizes you may not notice. Your eyes are closed and you are still curled up against Billie as you fight off your headache. You open them slightly and even though there isn’t a lot of light coming in from the window, it’s enough to irritate you.

“You don’t have to tell me, Y/N. It’s late.”

Billie waits as you figure out how you want to respond. You don’t say anything immediately. You just sigh as you try to get move comfortable, and turn so you’re able to see Billie’s face. At least the little bit of it that’s visible.

“I know. I just don’t want you to be mad.”

Billie isn’t sure what to say to this at first and decides to wait until you elaborate. You don’t however so she just asks the obvious question.

“Why would I be mad?”

You take a deep breath before you move away a little so you can see Billie without being on top of her. You don’t realize that she takes this the wrong way. You’re too worried about not saying the wrong thing.

“I want to tell you what she did so you understand why I’m like this. I just don’t want you to be mad.”

Billie frowns at this and opens her mouth to say something, but you beat her to it. You need to speak up before you lose your nerve. You frown at the thought of what happened earlier tonight. You hate how just talking to Billie had somehow reminded you of her. She and Billie couldn’t be more different, but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. You could only do better.

“She used to yell at me for apologizing too much. She’d tell me I was worthless because I was too soft.”

You close your eyes, missing Billie’s look as you try to block out the memories of all the fights you used to have. Maybe you had been too soft. You’d stopped fighting against her because arguing seemed useless, and eventually you’d run instead of trying to figure things out. Not that you believed you could have. Billie on the other hand, is thinking back to your conversation in the kitchen and how your demeanor had changed so suddenly. Had she done something to make you think of your ex?

“I’m not telling you so you feel bad, for me. I’m just realizing that with the whole thing that happened with Doug, not dealing with how she made me feel isn’t an option.”

Billie had been waiting for you to say this. Since she’d asked you on the walk with Milo why you were wanting to figure this out now. It was less of a mystery to Billie now given what you’ve told her, but she wanted to know your intentions, and if she could help.

“I just have some things I need to unlearn.”

Billie is quiet for a while as she considers what you could be talking about. You yawn and close your eyes again, feeling sleepier now that you’re nice and comfortable. You don’t realize how Billie’s deep in thought until she speaks up. You’re so shocked by what she says that you nearly sit up.

“When Milo interrupted us in the kitchen…was that because of something your ex did?”

You had not been expecting Billie to bring this up. Sure you’d explained to Billie why Milo had reacted the way he had, but you suppose you hadn’t told her exactly what had happened. You’d mentioned being pushed around. You hadn’t wanted to tell Billie all of the details.

Now; however, Billie was asking for clarification and you wanted to give it to her. It just meant that you had to talk about something you hadn’t told anyone.

This probably needed to change.

“Yes. She um-we were fighting and she shoved me onto the counter and-.”

You trailed off as you recall what happened that day. You’d been out with some friends for too long, and the two of you had gotten into a yelling match. It quickly turned physical and you found yourself pinned beneath her.

You don’t notice how you start to fidget, and your hands go to your hair as you clear your throat.

“She tried to force herself on me, but Milo scared her off.”

You briefly wonder where your dog is before your attention is brought back to Billie. She reaches out for one of the hands that is currently tugging at your hair with a questioning look. You meet her the rest of the way and sigh in relief when she pulls you closer.

“I’m sorry if that, or anything else I’ve done has made you uncomfortable. If I ever do something you don’t like, tell me. I won’t be offended.”

You shake your head immediately because you didn’t want this. You don’t want Billie to apologize for doing something that you’d wanted. You hadn’t been thinking about anything but Billie when Milo had interrupted you two. You’d been surprised that he reacted the way he did because honestly other than that one similarity, there was nothing else about that encounter that resembled what happened with your ex.

“Billie, no. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, or that I didn’t like.”

You sigh as you run your fingers over Billie’s absentmindedly as you play with her nails.

“It’s—it wasn’t the same. I’m not sure why Milo reacted that way, and…”

You take a deep breath, fighting the blush you know will appear at your next words. It’s dark enough that Billie won’t see it, but you’re sure she can hear it as you stutter slightly.

“The way you tease me is only in a way I-um like, and I love every second of it.”

Billie only manages a weak smile at this. She’s too busy thinking about how so many of the things she’s done or said to you could have been triggering. Initially, she hadn’t thought your shyness was due to anything other than your personality. She hadn’t considered you’d been hurt and that you were reluctant to trust people. Billie suddenly felt awful for somehow not realizing this sooner.

Billie sighs and you frown when you realize that she’s not cutting herself any slack. This is what you’d been worried about. You didn’t want Billie to beat herself up over this. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Just—please. If I ever do anything that’s out of line, let me know?”

You nod immediately before leaning forward to kiss Billie’s cheek. You smile, sincerely hoping that she catches a glimpse of it before you sigh and squeeze Billie’s hand tightly.

“You’ve been so sweet, and so considerate with me Billie. I feel so lucky and I know you may think it’s a big deal, but sometimes I’m okay with being bossed around. If it’s the right person and you’re kind, which you are.”

You stop rambling abruptly and take a deep breath before everything that you’d said registers. You’re slightly mortified by that last bit, but you don’t get a chance to think too much about it before Billie just laughs breathily and nods more to herself than to you. She leans in to kiss your forehead and then your nose before sighing in relief.

Okay, good. But, Y/N--.”

You already know what she’s going to say, so you cut her off with a kiss. You move closer to her so she can wrap her arms around your waist and pull you against her. You sigh in contentment before nodding with a small smile.

“Yes, I will tell you if I don’t like something, Billie. I promise.”

***

When you wake up the next morning, you forget where you are for just a second. Despite all of the convincing you’d done yesterday, mostly to yourself, you’d had a dream about Doug. You’d been in your apartment with Milo, and it had been a normal day. The dream had promptly ended when you’d woken up after answering the door to see Doug standing there with that same damn scowl of his.

You look around as you sit up with a groan. The bed is empty and you lie back down when your head pounds painfully. You’re parched and need to drink something, but you’re too lazy to get up. You settle back into bed, only having a few seconds to wonder where Billie is before the bedroom door opens.

You’re convinced that Billie is able to read your mind when you see that she’s brought two cups of something with her. You smile as you take the cup of coffee that is mostly milk, before kissing Billie in thanks. She smiles at you before moving to sit beside you. You sit up, careful not to spill before draining half the cup.

“You’re my favorite, did you know that?”

Billie laughs in response as she places her cup on the side table before scooting closer to you. She eyes you curiously but you miss it as you turn to put your cup down with a smile. You turn back to Billie when she places a hand on your thigh.

“Your favorite what?”

Your smile turns down slightly as you think about this, but it quickly widens as you shrug in faux disinterest. There’s a lot you could say but instead you decide to be sincere as you place a hand on top of Billie’s. You play with one of her rings before you meet her gaze with a smile.

“My favorite person, probably. You’ve been such a huge help and I’m just really grateful.”

You look away slightly embarrassed by what you say, but Billie stops you with a hand on your cheek. She’s smiling as she runs her fingers along you jaw before shaking her head.

“You deserve it, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You roll your eyes, about to argue in some way but Billie cuts you off before you can even get a word out. You don’t feel like arguing once Billie’s lips touch yours and you sigh before leaning into the medium. Her hand moves to the back of your head to tangle in your hair as you kiss Billie harder. You groan as Billie tugs on your hair a little, and you turn so you’re closer to her. You don’t get a chance to reach out for her before Billie’s moving away from you.

You frown and you’re about to ask what’s wrong before Billie speaks up. Her hand falls from your hair and moves to your cheek again, Billie’s shooting you a concerned look as she runs her thumb along your bottom lip.

“How are you feeling?”

You smile slightly before your brow furrows in confusion. You’re used to Billie checking in with you, but it seems a little early for her. Usually she wouldn’t ask until you two got a little further along in what you were doing, but as you search Billie’s face for an explanation you realize that you are overlooking something that was fairly important.

“Um, I’m fine, how are you feeling?”

Billie realizes that you don’t really understand what she’s asking so she drops her hand into her lap.

“Your head, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen before you nod in confirmation. You smile before closing the gap between you and Billie again with another nod.

“Yes! It’s much better. I promise.”

You wait until Billie’s skeptical look disappears, and you smirk when she sighs in defeat. You move so you’re practically in Billie’s lap before she speaks up.

“You promise?”

You nod enthusiastically before leaning back in to kiss Billie. She doesn’t let you take lead for long and you just smile as she grabs your hips and pulls you into her lap. You resist the urge to groan as her fingernails dig into the sensitive skin at your waist. You sigh as Billie parts your lips and your hands immediately find her hair. You ignore the voice at the back of your mind telling you to take it easy. You’ve been here for three days and you and Billie hadn’t done more than kiss in passing.

You were recovering, sure, but that doesn’t stop your libido from rearing it’s head. In fact, it seems that spending time with Billie like this and getting to see her all the time has the opposite effect. Not that you expected anything else. You loved spending time with Billie, but you hated that you couldn’t do anything other than sit around.

You supposed this didn’t exactly count as just sitting around.

Your hold on Billie’s hair tightens as the blonde’s hands start to wander. You are too distracted by Billie’s hands sneaking under your shirt to hear Milo immediately. Billie just chooses to ignore him because he’s been fed and walked. All he really wants now is attention. You hiss at the feeling of Billie’s hands sliding up your back, but you jump when Milo stops whining and decides to scratch at the door. You groan as you turn away from Billie to glare at the closed door. You don’t move because you’re not about to leave now. Milo can entertain himself for a while.

“Milo, no! Go away.”

Milo continues to scratch at the door, and you groan before shouting at him again. He stops but continues to whine, but you roll your eyes and just turn back to Billie. You smile before shifting your weight on Billie’s lap as you lean towards her again.

“He can take care of himself for a little bit.”

Milo sits at the door waiting for you to open it for a couple of minutes before giving up. Mostly, he is distracted by the sound of someone coming up the stairs. He turns and sees Bit grooming herself. The two of them had mostly avoided each other because Bit didn’t want anything to do with Milo. So she eyes him warily as she cleans her coat just down the hall from him. Since Milo didn’t have any luck with you, he decides to go see if Bit wants to play with him.

Once Milo left you and Billie alone, the two of you had picked up right where you left off. You’re shirtless and horizontal by the time that you hear Bit yowling and hissing from the hallway. You curse under your breath as you sit up quickly and hurry to jump off the bed. Billie is right behind you when you open the door to the sound of Bit hissing loudly at Milo who is crouched down in his play bow in front of the cat. Bit however, is having none of it, and she hisses at him as he tries to get closer to her.

“Milo! Hey, come here.”

You hurry to pull Milo away from Bit who has her back arched and looks like she wants to claw the shit out of him. Luckily, Milo turns to you when you call his name and he bounds over to you. He jumps scratching you and you yell at him before telling him to sit.

“Ow! Milo no! Sit down.”

Once Milo is out of the way Bit runs to the laundry room to escape. It’s not open so Billie goes to let her in while you take Milo back to Billie’s room. You tell him to sit as you find your shirt and get dressed. You don’t find it immediately, and Billie returns before you manage to pull it back on. You sigh once you’re finally dressed and you shoot Milo a glare before smiling at Billie.

“I guess I’m up now.”

It’s lunch time before you and Billie have a moment of peace. Milo has decided to be a demon today, and Billie got stuck on calls for work that she hadn’t been expecting. She didn’t have too much to do in terms of preparing for Friday. It was really just another couple of interviews, one in the morning and one late at night, if you understood correctly.

You didn’t have much to do either. You didn’t work until Monday, but Milo was causing you more trouble than usual. He was being a brat and not leaving you alone until you took him outside. After the third time you told him that he was staying put until after lunch. He did not like this and started whining loudly. You didn’t want him disturbing Billie so you cave and take him outside again. This time, you go to the backyard to get him to calm down and to get some fresh air. You’re surprised by how sunny it is outside until you remember that you had been wearing sunglasses for the last two times you walked Milo. Your headache had come back and the only way to make walking him tolerable was to wear them.

You let Milo wander around the yard while you lie down in one of the chairs on the deck. You watch Milo carefully, but he hasn’t shown much interest in going beyond Billie’s yard. Still, you call him over after a few minutes and he comes to lie down next to you after planting a messy kiss on your cheek. You groan before scratching his muzzle and then squishing his ears.

“Are you feeling better now? Less bratty?”

Milo only licks you again before resting his head on your stomach. It doesn’t look super comfortable how he’s sitting, but you don’t protest as you lie back and stretch out your legs with a yawn. You definitely could fall asleep here if you’re not careful.

Billie sighs as she finally hangs up the phone after almost an hour of talking to her producer. She hadn’t expected this call and she was a little ticked. She needed a break from work for a while to cool off. She looks at the clock and sees that it is almost 1. She didn’t realize how late it was and now she’s annoyed for another reason.

Billie had been planning on eating with you, maybe even going out, but she figured you already had lunch. It had been about an hour since she’d seen you last.

Billie sighs as she stands up to search for you, but once she steps into the kitchen, she immediately sees Milo on the deck. She walks towards the back door and finally sees you lying in one of the chairs. Your eyes are closed making Billie think that you are probably asleep, so she opens the door quietly.

Milo notices her first of course and his tail starts to wag as he stands up to greet her. Billie smiles reaching out for him as she sneaks a peek at you, confirming that you are definitely asleep. You look comfortable all stretched out and Billie was tempted to leave you to rest.

You woke up, unsurprisingly, when Milo whined from beside you. You groan softly as you open your eyes, quickly covering them when you realize you were still outside.

“Tired?”

You turn suddenly at the sound of Billie’s voice, and you see her sitting in the chair next to you with Milo sitting between you. You smile before sitting up and shaking your head. Despite this, you yawn but ignore Billie’s look before asking how her calls went.

“Billie, hi. How did it go? Are you done?”

Billie sits up as well as she turns toward you with a sigh. She was tired, but she got most of the work she needed to do today done. You smile at this and you stand up and move to sit next to Billie. You consider sitting closer, but settle down beside her before responding.

“That’s great. So you have most of the afternoon off?”

You can’t help but smile widely as you ask this, and Billie of course, sees right through you. She laughs before pretending to think about this for a moment. She knows her answer already and is certain that you do too, but she looks to Milo briefly before making a contemplative noise.

“Hmm I’m not sure. I might be able to find more work to do.”

You pout at this and decide to see if you can convince Billie to find something better to do than work. You slide onto Billie’s lap and wrap your arms around her neck with a dramatic sigh.

“Billie, come onnn. There has to be something more exciting you can do. If you really don’t have to work…”

You shoot Billie a pleading look and the medium just smirks as she pulls you closer. You lean in to kiss her, but she turns away last minute making you pout yet again. You don’t frown for long though before Billie finally asks you what you had in mind.

“I guess I don’t have to, but what could possibly be more exciting than work?”

You kiss Billie’s cheek before looking around the backyard briefly. You weren’t too worried about being seen because Milo would probably warn you if you were no longer alone. So you just shrug before leaning in for a proper kiss. Your smile widens when Billie doesn’t turn away this time.

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

It was almost 3 pm before you and Billie got around to eating lunch. You were already thinking take out when Billie speaks up. She’s standing at the counter pouring the two of you glasses of water while you sit on the couch with Milo at your feet.

“What do you want to do for lunch? I was thinking we would go out, until we got sidetracked.”

You smile and turn to Billie as she says this. You thank her as you take one of the glasses before moving over so she can sit down. She smiles in thanks as you pick up your phone again to show Billie what you were looking at.

“Ah, right. Maybe we can just order in and go out another time?”

You turn to Billie who watches as you grab your phone before nodding. She thinks about when the best time for this would be. Given that she’s so busy tomorrow she doesn’t want to promise anything. However, she knows that she may need to destress after the interviews and her favorite way to relax was spending time with you.

“How about we go out tomorrow after I finish up working, if I’m not too exhausted?”

You turn to Billie with a surprised look. You are certain that you will be exhausted the time Billie finishes working tomorrow. One of her interviews was at night, and you liked staying up sometimes, but you’re not sure you want to stay up that late.

“Uhh, won’t you be working until midnight?”

Billie laughs at this before shaking her head. She now understands your bewildered look, but she just smiles before clarifying what tomorrow will look like.

“No, sweetheart. We’re filming that interview in the afternoon. It won’t really be live.”

You nod as realization dawns on you and you almost sigh in relief. You love spending time with Billie, but you’re not sure you could commit to anything after midnight.

“Okay. Well then sure. If you’re up to it.”

You both spend a few minutes talking about what to order for lunch before planning tomorrow night. Since you’re not sure if Billie is going to be in the mood to go out, you decide on a place that doesn’t require reservations. Billie asks you if there is anywhere you would like to go. You don’t know many places that you would want, and since Billie knows more about the area you suggest that she chooses.

“Well, we could go somewhere that allows dogs.”

You’re a little caught off guard by this and you shoot Billie a confused look. You turn to Milo before looking back to Billie with a small smile.

“You want Milo to come with us? On a date?”

Billie simply shrugs before saying why not. She likes Milo and has a feeling he’d be well behaved. Also, she didn’t want him staying at home alone with the cats for too long. When Billie says this, you smile in understanding before trying to think of a way that you could make him staying here work. Just in case Billie didn’t really want him tagging along. You of course thought of several reasons why having him would be beneficial, but you keep those to yourself for now.

“Are you sure, Billie? We can figure something else out.”

Billie just smiles again before shaking her head. She reaches out for your hand before glancing at Milo who is looking at you like he always is.

“I want you to be comfortable, Y/N, and I also don’t want you worrying about him. If that means we’re forced to have a handsome escort for our date, well, I think I can live with that.”

You laugh at this before shaking your head in disbelief. You’re not sure how you managed to get so lucky after your last relationship, and you don’t think you’ll ever stop wondering. You squeeze Billie’s hand before nodding in agreement. You’re sure you will enjoy it either way, but you are glad that Billie seems sincere when she says that she doesn’t mind the third wheel.

“Okay. Thank you, Billie.”

She just smiles before kissing you soundly. You eventually pull away when your phone buzzes, but you don’t bother looking at it as you turn to Milo with a smile. Billie just rolls her eyes with an amused chuckle before pulling you back towards her.

“Get cleaned up Milo, you need to look nice for our date tomorrow.”

Part 18

#american horror story #ahs #ahs fic #ahs imagine #ahs murder house #my fic #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard #a little bit #WHY IS THIS STORY SO LONG #😭

52 notes · View notes

forevercloudnine · 4 years ago

Text

batman forever riddlebat ship meme

(This one was inevitable. God, do I love this movie. @heroes-etc gave me questions from this ship meme.)

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

The obvious answer here is Edward because he is... clearly and pathologically insecure in his identity and requiring outside approval. You could argue he gets over this once he adopts his flamboyant supervillain identity, but as soon as he steps out of it to be Edward Nygma again he’s as self-conscious as ever. On some level his Bruce cosplay at the Nygmatech party is probably supposed to be a dig at his former idol, but it’s pretty transparent that he’s paranoid about not measuring up, especially once Bruce actually walks in.

As for what makes him feel better, two obvious high points of his self-esteem right off the bat (lol) are when Bruce is giving him positive attention in his intro scene, and directly afterwards when he’s murdering his boss for ragging on him.

Of course, neither external validation or murder is, like, a permanent solution to insecurity. Obviously. If they ever got together Bruce would probably make him go to therapy, which would be incredibly hypocritical because, as Dr. Meridian points out in this movie, that’s not exactly something Bruce is doing. Although in Bruce’s defense, if you count the novelizations as canon for this continuity, the psychiatrist Alfred hired for him as a child basically wrote him off as a lost cause that was going to inevitably self-destruct at some point in adulthood. So I can see why he’d think therapy isn’t for him.

"Young Bruce may seem quite the stalwart, but there’s still a child beneath that veneer of calm acceptance [...] The day will come when that veneer crumbles, and the boy reacts to the memory of his ordeal. Such matters may be postponed, but not indefinitely. And the longer this one is delayed, the greater the damage will be to his psyche.”

“Still,” Alfred pressed. “How do you think this will all come out? Off the record, if you prefer.”

Another pause. “I am not terribly optimistic,” the stout man admitted. “But I assure you, I will do my best.”

Alternatively, Bruce just lets Edward borrow his clothes and calls it a day. It’s less time consuming than therapy and both the movie and novelization demonstrate how into that Edward is.

He was murmuring to himself, “We’ll probably be dining at Wayne Manor together.” He envisioned Bruce sitting across from him, and began to launch into a narrative [...] “Yes. Yes. A Party in my honor? I should have rented a tuxedo. What?” he couldn’t believe it, “One of yours, Bruce?” He gave it a moment’s thought and then shrugged. “Why not? We are the same size.”

3. Who is the most romantic?

Uh, not Bruce! Batman Forever is the most thoughtfully romantic he gets in the entire series, and even here his only two dates ideas are “whatever Gotham social event my secretary tells me I need a date for” and “coming on to my date in my alternate identity to see if she loves me enough not to cheat on me with Batman.” Also, he vacillates between staunchly refusing to do any flirting at all and dishing out the least romantic pick-up lines possible.

You say “bad writing,” I say “totally in character for a hot rich guy who knows that this is as hard as he has to try to get into someone’s pants.” Bruce might love his partner with the intensity of a thousand dying suns, but he’s still sending Alfred to buy all their Valentine’s Day presents. His idea of a romantic evening for two is finally trusting someone enough to tell them his secret identity. If he’s done that already, or they already figured it out, then his playbook is over. That’s clearly the only romantic fantasy he’s ever allowed himself.

(I was going to say he does this once every movie, but he actually never does this in Batman & Robin specifically because he doesn’t actually care about Julie Madison. She proposes to him and he gets her name wrong while shooting her down. Add that to the “Bruce Wayne isn’t romantic” box.)

The ridiculous amount of magazine cut-outs populating Edward’s apartment indicates that he probably has a very vibrant and extensive set of fantasies involving Bruce, which is hinted at a couple times in the novelization.

Edward would certainly know him when he saw him. He’d spent enough time anticipating the moment, after all [...] Finally he was going to be meeting Bruce Wayne face-to-face, and he had every moment of the encounter scripted [...] He’d rehearsed it to perfection in his mind for weeks upon months.

In the grand scheme of things... in the fabulous, sweeping, intertwining destinies of Bruce Wayne and Edward Nygma, such a slip would not even rate a footnote.

He becomes suddenly and painfully aware that if Bruce Wayne walked away without Edward Nygma by his side, then that would be it. It would be finished. All these weeks, months... indeed, a lifetime of planning... and it was crumbling under him just like that.

Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean his fantasies are all romantic in the traditional sense of the word. This is a man who was charmed by Harvey holding a charity circus hostage with some kind of graffitied missile warhead. Tonally, there’s not even that much of a difference between his crush collages and his riddle death threats.

What’s weirder, using a magazine cutout of someone you hate to make a pop-up card of their face, or using a magazine cutout of someone you love to replace the anatomically correct heart in the cardiovascular system diagram you keep in your apartment/arcade/makeshift laboratory? Probably the former, since it was made with the express purpose of Bruce actually seeing it. Although presumably Edward was planning on taking Bruce to his apartment at some point? And in the novelization, he actually drags Bruce into his cubicle to look at his Wayne Shrine.

He grabbed Bruce’s arms and shouted “No, don’t leave me! I need you!” [...] Bruce was thunderstruck as he was pulled partway into Edward’s office... and then he caught sight of the shrine.

Edwards’s head bobbed eagerly. Now, finally, Bruce would understand the depth of Nygma’s devotion to his idol. He would see how important he was to Nygma.

Notably, the only thing that upsets Bruce about the fact that one of his employees has a serial killer wall dedicated to him at their work station (@heroes-etc: realistically.... IS this the first time this has happened? i doubt it.) is the fact that the shrine includes a picture of him taken directly after his parents’ death, which is obviously a huge trigger for Bruce’s PTSD.

Wayne’s gaze zeroed in on the picture of himself as a young man.

The eyes of Wayne the elder locked with Wayne the younger, and when he slowly turned his scrutiny back to Edward Nygma, Edward could feel the temperature in the cubicle drop to subzero.

Later, once Bruce isn’t being actively reminded of the most traumatizing day of his life, he reflects that he could probably relate to Edward’s specific brand of crazy, and hopes that it’s not too late to try again (it is).

He paused momentarily at Edward Nygma’s cubicle, thinking about the intensity he’d seen in the man’s eyes the other day. Nygma’s ideas might have been a bit odd, but that sort of passion—if properly channeled—could accomplish miracles. That was something Bruce Wayne certainly knew better than anyone else. Perhaps after this fiasco was the time to take Nygma aside under less-pressured circumstances. Start again...

With any other character, I would call bull on their being this unphased by someone being obsessed enough with them to build a stalker shrine, but, like. It’s Batman. He probably has a stalker shrine to Michelle Pfeiffer Catwoman in his cave somewhere. When they start dating, Edward mails the weirdest magazine cutout valentines to his office on the regular, and every time Bruce has to assure his staff that it’s not a ransom letter and it’s just “his boyfriend being romantic.”

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

I mean, by most people’s standards, any one of the things that Edward does in front of Bruce could easily be the most embarrassing thing to happen to them in their lifetime. But for the most part, Edward seems blissfully free of that kind of self-consciousness. He accidentally introduces himself to Bruce as “[extended moaning sound] Bruce Wayne” and shakes it off without even registering his mistake. Even when he feels like Bruce has rejected him and his project, his emotional state is more shocked, saddened, and angry than it is ashamed. He does apologize to Bruce, during the scene where they first meet, for holding on to his hand too long during their handshake. And by “handshake” I mean that Bruce extends his hand to be shaken, and Edward just grabs on and holds it without any motion whatsoever for the entire first half of their conversation. Which might be the only time he ever apologizes in the entire movie. So I’ll say that was his moment of embarrassment.

Bruce only really embarrasses himself in front of Alfred, but Edward does manage to trick Bruce into getting scanned by his mind reading device at the Nygmatech party. Being tricked in general would be pretty awkward for Bruce, since this movie goes out of its way to show the audience how SMART and CLEVER and KNOWLEDGEABLE ABOUT BRAINWAVES Bruce is at every opportunity. But being tricked into getting your mind read is about a million times more embarrassing than just running into a wall like some kind of Looney Tune. Obviously having access to Bruce’s mind allows Edward to figure out that his former boss/current obsessee is Batman, but also it’s just got to be super weird in there. Bruce is a bizarre man.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Whether he’s idolizing Bruce or plotting his destruction, Edward is still seeing the subject of his lifelong obsession as a larger than life exaggeration of the real man. Some of that pedestal would probably survive into the beginning of a romantic relationship, but by the time they got serious Edward would have had to recognize that Bruce has both positive and negative traits. He would also have had to grapple with the fact that the man he once assumed would make everything in his life better is a lot of work to be around, especially in this movie’s continuity where the trauma of his family’s death and his guilt over allowing enemies like Joker to die are genuinely affecting Bruce’s day-to-day functionality.

(A lot of things, Chase.)

Edward’s introduction scene demonstrates that he doesn’t see Bruce as having these kinds of problems. His Escapism Wish Fulfillment Device TM is clearly a very personal project for him, since he, you know. Is kind of already living in a Bruce-centric fantasy world.

When he’s pitching it to Bruce, however, he states that he doesn’t think someone like Bruce would ever need to escape reality (which could just be ingratiating flattery, but he barely seems aware of what he’s saying at the time because he’s too busy staring with his mouth open at Bruce putting on glasses).

(Side note: an interjection from @heroes-etc

Anyway, moving on.)

Obviously we know he’s wrong, since Bruce escapes his reality every night by dressing up like a bat and scaring people. Normally that’s just subtext (or me being cynical and creating subtext), but Batman Forever introduced a hot psychiatrist who is constantly poking at Batman for being a power fantasy created by a traumatized mind to cope with intense feelings of helplessness in childhood.

The novelization makes it clear that it’s not the illusion of perfection that Edward is attracted to, however. The picture of Bruce in Crime Alley is what kickstarts Edward’s obsession, not because Bruce seemed flawless but because he seemed to be going through similar pain as Edward (whatever Edward’s pain even IS in this continuity). So I think recognizing Bruce’s issues would be less of a dealbreaker and more of a point of connection, were they to get serious.

He saw, there in Bruce Wayne’s face, an intensity that mirrored his own. An anger, a frustration at the hand that fate had dealt him. There were no tears on Bruce’s face. Instead there was a smoldering intelligence that Edward intuitively sensed was on par with his own.

There was something in Bruce’s eyes, something in that gaze. There was Bruce, in a moment of raw emotion, his parents just having been cruelly taken from him. And there was no self-pity. Just cold, hard anger.

[...] Ed still had the newspaper with him when he was walking home from school. Not that he needed it to read; the contents were safely locked away in his skull, thanks to his photographic memory. But he wanted to clip out the articles and pictures about Bruce Wayne. He found the young man fascinating, as if he had discovered a soulmate of sorts.

For Bruce, on the other hand, getting serious presumably just means attempting to include Edward more and more in the found family he builds in the latter half of the 90’s Batman movies. Alfred approving a love interest is not quite as tantamount in this continuity as it is sometimes (Micheal Gough Alfred is pretty laid back), but Bruce is still spending all of his non-Batman, non-socialite time with his butler. So if Edward wants to hang out with Bruce, he has to either get on Alfred’s good side or prepare for a lot of “romantic quality time” where his boyfriend’s dad is glaring at him from the background.

Dick is less important to get on the good side of, since he and Bruce argue all the time in these movies (apparently one of the proposed scripts for Batman & Robin was Bruce kicking Dick out of the house and making him go to college, where Dick would cope with his dad-related anger by bullying his psychology professor Dr. Crane into becoming a supervillain. I personally feel like I deserved to see that Scarecrow origin). So if Dick doesn’t like Bruce’s new boyfriend, it’s just one more thing for them to be catty to each other about.

Alfred’s niece Barbara Wilson on the other hand (who is adorable as a fusion of Barbara Gordon and Julia Pennyworth, do not @ me) would be absolutely vital for Edward to win over, because her opinion could easily either make or break his standing with her uncle. Also Bruce decided to adopt her within five minutes of meeting her, so he’s obviously fond.

19. Where do they go on their first date?

Edward’s fantasy sequence in the novelization makes it obvious enough that he would really, really like to have dinner at Wayne Manor. Hanging out at someone’s house isn’t really a traditional first date, especially if one of you is a billionaire who could have taken you literally anywhere, but clearly none of that matters to Bruce, because that’s exactly the first date he invites Vicki Vale on in Batman (1989).

It’s pretty painfully awkward (“You want to know the truth? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room before”) until Bruce gives up on the formality and takes her down to eat the rest of their courses with Alfred in the kitchen.

I feel like his first date with Edward could probably go the same way, with a few major differences. One, Edward would have been super enthused about eating in the fancy dining hall, and Bruce would have only suggested finishing their meal in the kitchen because Edward clearly wanted to see As Much Of The Manor As Possible. Two, when Alfred offers to stop embarrassing Bruce and leave them alone for the end of their date, Edward would have insisted he stay and break out the baby albums. You cannot convince me that Alfred is not a scrapbooker. Actually, does what Edward’s doing count as scrapbooking? Maybe they could compare notes.

#riddlebat #batman forever #edward nygma #riddler #bruce wayne #batman #ship meme #i do not actually recommend reading the novelization because it did chase so dirty i still seethe about it sometimes #but it did make edward pretty fucking gay #now the batman & robin novelization i recommend wholeheartedly #because for some reason bruce has a huge crush on mr. freeze #like literally bruce stalked him for a while in his 20's #and his internal narration is constantly monologueing about how handsome victor is #truly george clooney batman is canon gay

55 notes · View notes

keltonwrites · 5 years ago

Note

How do I become courageous? How do I stop letting the anxiety over the uncertainty of future, or the fear of other people's judgement, dictate my life's narrative?

Ten years ago, my Zoloft prescription ran out the day I had a tumor sliced out of my neck. The surgery was on a Monday. I woke up with chest pain and nerve damage in my face. They kept me until Wednesday morning. I left the hospital with a drainage bag attached to my neck, pinned to the collar of my shirt. I couldn’t move the right side of my face. I emailed my boss.“The surgery was a little more intense than I anticipated. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it in this week.”“Please be here on Friday.”I went to work on Friday. I couldn’t brush my hair because the pressure on my neck was too painful. The blood bag seeped occasionally on my shirt. I had the kind of sleep anyone has after their ear is partially sliced off to remove a tumor burrowing beneath it. Don’t worry — they sewed it back on. (The ear, not the tumor.)On Friday, because I didn’t understand how boundaries or rights worked, I walked across the National Institutes of Health campus toward my building looking more like a patient than an employee. My boss stared at me and then didn’t speak to me again. I wrote for four hours before I went into her office.“I need to go home.”“Have a nice weekend!” She beamed, actively looking everywhere that was not my blood bag.I smiled, sort of. The right side of my face was still temporarily paralyzed, so the left side of my mouth hoisted my cursory courtesy smile by itself.“Gonna work on my face,” I said pointing to my partially slack expression.“Sorry?”“Nerve damage. Gonna try to exercise it. Do some heavy lifting while I watch TV,” I said, my face contorting from the kind of stifled laughter usually reserved for broken ribs and strict teachers.“Ok!” She almost yelled, her own face contorting with discomfort.Over the next two weeks—tumor and medication free—I lost my mind. Stop me if you’ve heard this before. I gave away my percocet. I dyed my hair. I adopted a cat. I started a blog. And nine months later, I started a challenge called Bold Moves October. I started it because so much of my day-to-day life felt defined by inaction and complacency. Plus, the October prior is when the doctors had said, “we’re really not sure if it’s cancer or not.” Followed immediately by, “we can schedule you for surgery in three months.”It was a long three months. Death all of a sudden seemed like something that could happen. In my 23-year-old wisdom, this meant I should be more proactive. For better or worse, I primarily applied this proactivity to flirting.

We can’t all learn life’s great lessons on the first go.Anyway, that blog and that mini movement of boldness changed the trajectory of my life. One thing toppled into another. Over the next few years that blog and challenge would (directly and tangentially) get me a book deal, writing contracts, sport sponsorships, job offers, the friendship of my favorite author, the adoration of my husband, and a full-time job as an editor that would be the two best professional years of my life.The period I spent working on that blog was obviously good. It was also the most derided and insulted I would ever be. I lost friendships. I received hate mail and death threats (in 2011 no less, before every Twitter account with too many numbers in the screen name became an amateur fear monger.) I allowed people to send me anonymous messages because it was a way for people to share how they were struggling without revealing their identities. But that meant I couldn’t protect myself from anonymous and un-trackable threats. God only knows what my parents thought. (In this scenario, I am God. I know what they thought.)Courage often doesn’t feel good. The only courage that exists without anxiety is arrogance. There is not a life where you, a person who wrote anonymously to an all-but-dead Tumblr, live without the anxiety of others’ judgment. But there is also not a life where you, who—again—wrote asking for advice anonymously to an all-but-dead Tumblr, aren’t a person defined by desperate chances and hope. I apologize that you sent me that note months ago, but I assure you, it is because I too was flexing courage, letting it coarse through my veins and vanquish months of chronic nausea.Like you, I was fussing about in the woods of my life, looking for something that resembled a path. Not necessarily a path without sinkholes or poison leaves, but rather one worth them.Your path, the one it sounds like you’re trying to find, will be overgrown with the thorns of judgment and anxiety. But they’re just thorns. They’re on every path. They’re hurting you just as much on the wrong path as they will on the right one.Normally I give very ethereal advice that’s difficult to act on. It’s more like a song than an action item, but in this scenario, you don’t need to listen to someone else. You also don’t need to have a tumor spliced from your insides to remind you that at some point, our chances run out. All you need is to develop the skill of listening to yourself. For a couple of months, relax with the courage. Courage is just an instagram word for having a strong inner constitution. And that is something you can develop without framing it in the same terms we use to go to battle.

To do the work, I recommend a few things.

If you don’t already, move your body. I know how much people hate this advice. But if you can hike or run or cycle or even just briskly walk (without podcasts) for a minimum of 20 minutes a day, you should. Our gut, our intuition, our inner sense of self or whatever you want to call her, she’s not going to feel safe coming out when you’re in the mental thicket of other people’s narratives. Exercise is the closest humans have to Drano for the mind.

Find a journaling exercise that feels like maybe it’s a little too much work. If it feels conquerable, it’s too easy. I go back to Susannah Conway’s Unravel Your Year. Doesn’t matter if it’s a new year. Time is a construct.

Get the book Designing Your Life. You may not design an entirely new one, but it may help in making change feel conquerable, or just possible. If that book feels too “action item” oriented, try The Artist’s Way. It’s much more about knowing yourself than it is about art.

Make a list of the narratives that you feel other people are suffocating you with. Maybe dad wants you to be a doctor. Maybe girlfriend wants you to settle down a little. Maybe boss wants you to focus on the clerical side of your job. Maybe society wants you to buy an apartment you can’t afford. Whatever or whoever it is you feel is pressuring you, write it down. You need to know your demons to exercise them. You might even find, in time, that you even like some of these visions. They’re not the enemy. Pressure is. And pressure is only defeated by self. Isn’t that annoying?

Write to me again. Impress me. Give yourself a few challenges each week. Whether it’s applying for a class, trying something you’re bound to be bad at, getting up half an hour early to dance your heart out before work, I don’t care. Do some things that are for you. Not for others, not for profit, not for your future — just for you right now. And then use me for more than an anonymous submission on the internet. Use me as a deadline. Sometimes all it takes to get over the hurdle of pressure is a little validation. I’m here for that whenever you need me.

I’m recommending these things because I just did them.

I gave myself a deadline to change my life. Not that it was bad, it just felt… well it felt exactly how it did ten years ago: full of inaction and complacency. I was on cruise control, taking few chances, taking really nothing at all. So the next thing I took was an exit. I wanted to see what life looked like when things weren’t all concrete and white lines. I quit my job. I camped around the west. I picked up a few new hobbies. I journaled more than I did all of 7th grade. My year-long bout of nausea went away. I started to dance again. I wrote songs again. I wrote in general again. And I dug around in my psyche for the truth about what I always liked doing, what the through-lines in all my good jobs have been. Very simply, the strongest through-line was the encouragement and empowerment of others.

Most of the writing I’m doing right now will be private until it isn’t. I’m writing a horror film and still working on my first novel. But I need a weekly way to interact with people via writing lest I lose my lonely mind, so I’m bringing back the one thing got me into writing in the first place: answering people’s questions.

After writing Anonymous Asked, I was too embarrassed to promote the book. I’ve never re-read it. I fell into the spiral of what other people thought: of me, of the work, of my ideas. But I’d rather be fulfilled and insulted than bored out of my mind and forgotten.

So to encourage your courage, I am flexing a little bit of my own. My newsletter (of which this essay is a part) is now called “A Little Bit Better” and the whole point is that it helps you feel a little bit better. You can subscribe to it here. It will include essays like this and other bits of things that made that week a little bit better. I hope you enjoy it. I know I will. See you there.I wrote this while listening to:It’s a Storm - Young & SickSwing - Mahmut Orhan Remix by Soki Tukker and Mahmut OrhanKissing Other People - Lennon StellaScared to Death - Jax AndersonSound of Your Voice - Griff

#advice #newsletters #courage #courageous #griff #jax anderson #young & sick #soki tukker #lennon stella #a little bit better

52 notes · View notes

singledarkshade · 4 years ago

Text

Draining The Swamp

Summary: Rip and Gideon are hired by Rip's old friend John to find out who is trying to hurt one of the band he manages.

Author’s Note: So, for my birthday this year IncendiaGlacies created the Timeship Psych AU. We've been talking about it ever since and have a lot of backstory. We've also both written some small entries but this is the first full story.

We both really love this Universe we've created so we hope you do too.

*********************************************

Part One

Rip’s flight was called for those with priority boarding and he took a deep breath because this meant he had to head to the gate now. He hugged Eve, then hugged his mother before turning to where Gideon was standing with stiff shoulders and her hands shoved in her pockets.

“Are you okay?” Rip asked, as he had several times already that day.

He knew she didn’t want him to leave, and he felt guilty that he was, but the semester in London was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Gideon pasted a forced smile on her face, “Of course I am.”

Rip gently brushed her hair back from her face, “It will only be six months, I’ll be home before you know it and we will talk all the time.”

“I know,” she whispered.

When Rip wrapped his arms around her, Gideon’s clung to him, her face buried in his chest and he could feel her tears soak into his t-shirt.

“Gideon,” Eve said softly, “Rip’s flight has been called again. He has to go now, or he could miss it.”

Rip heard Gideon sniff before she pulled back and asked him, “Do you have everything?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure you have the notebook I gave you, and the pens,” she said before adding softly, “And the list?”

“Yes,” he smiled, “I would never leave the list. And since you laminated it for me, it will not get crushed or torn,” Rip took her face in his hands, “I promise I will not do anything on the list.”

“Especially…”

Rip kissed her forehead, “I will never have another best friend. That spot has been well and truly occupied in my life since the moment we met.”

“Rip,” Mary spoke up this time, “It’s time, dear.”

Rip hugged Gideon once more before pressing a kiss to her cheek and stepping back out of Gideon’s reach. Mary and Eve both held onto her just in case as Rip headed through the gates giving them a wave, trying not to look at the sadness on Gideon’s face as he left her for the next few months.

*********************************************

“We have a new case,” Rip said when Gideon flounced into the office just after lunch, early for once.

She smiled, “Did Captain West call?”

“No.”

Gideon frowned, “So, we got a walk in?” she smiled brightly, “That’s great. It means we’re being noticed.”

“Actually,” Rip grimaced slightly before asking, “You remember my friend John?”

“Who?”

“John Constantine,” Rip stated annoyed, “I met him during my semester in London.”

Gideon looked around the room thoughtfully before shrugging with an air of innocence, “No, doesn’t ring a bell.”

Shaking his head, he continued, “Anyway, he manages several bands and one of them is Swamp Things. They’re currently touring the country and one of their singers, Veronica Taylor, has been receiving death threats. John asked if we could find out who is making these threats.”

He watched her face as she fought her dislike that Rip had close friends other than her, over the fact they were being hired by someone who could pay them a proper fee.

“Okay,” Gideon nodded finally, “We’ll take the job.”

Rip smiled and grabbed his keys, “Glad you agree. I already took it. Let’s go.”

Gideon sat in Rip’s car she’d nicknamed ‘The Waverider’, watching the houses fly by as Rip drove them to the stadium.

“Are you pouting over there?” Rip said.

Gideon shrugged, “Why would I be pouting?”

“Because I know you,” Rip replied with an amused smile, “And I know you don’t like that I chose to spend those months away from you. Or made friends while I was away.”

Gideon rolled her eyes, “Some friend. You haven’t seen or heard from him since you left London. Until he needs something from you.”

“John and I talk at least once a month,” Rip told her, “We meet up whenever he’s in the country.”

Gideon stared at him, “Why did you never tell me?”

“Because you react like this,” Rip smoothly swung the car into the parking lot and found a spot to park.

“Like what?”

Rip took a long slow deep breath, he got out the car and walked round to her side. Opening the door, he took her hand to help her out the car.

“Gideon, you are my best friend,” he told her, “And I love you more than I love anyone. But I’m allowed to have other friends. Okay?”

She rolled her eyes, “Okay. But,” she caught his hand before he could walk away, “I’m your favourite.”

Chuckling Rip kissed the top of her head, “Always.”

Walking into the stadium Rip spotted his old friend standing in the front row watching the band.

“Members of the public are not allowed,” a large man with a crew jacket ‘Security’ emblazoned on it growled, stepping in front of them.

“We’re here to see John Constantine,” Rip told him, “I’m Rip Hunter and this is Gideon Rider, we’re expected.”

He gave them a hard stare, “Wait here.”

“Do you think I could get one of those jackets?” Gideon asked.

“We can ask John,” Rip said, smiling amused at the frown that touched her lips.

The security man appeared again, “Follow me.”

Taking Gideon’s arm to make sure she came with him, Rip started towards where John was standing. John turned just as the band finished the song they were practicing.

“Rip,” John stated as he walked to meet them, “It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming.”

Taking the other man’s hand, Rip smiled, “It’s no problem. I’d like you to meet Gideon.”

Gideon looked up at John, a challenge in her eyes.

“The famous Gideon,” John took her hand and kissed it, “I have heard so much about you. Though Rip didn’t quite manage to adequately describe how gorgeous you truly are.”

She looked at him, hostility in her eyes, “Unlike some people,” she stated coldly pulling her hand back, “I’m not swayed by flattery.”

“Since when?” Rip muttered.

John chuckled softly before becoming serious, “Come back to my office and I’ll explain why I invited you along.”

Rip started to follow John, stopping he turned back and wrapped his arm around Gideon’s waist to get her to walk with him.

“We’re getting paid for this, Gideon,” he reminded her, “Please pay attention.”

She rolled her eyes, “I always pay attention, Rip. It’s why we’re doing this job,” she slipped her arm through his, “Let’s find out why we’re here and get it over with so we can get paid.”

Gideon slid into the seat beside Rip as John took the one behind the desk. She frowned slightly as he rubbed his hand over his eyes tiredly.

“Why don’t you tell us what’s been happening?” Gideon said softly.

John pulled out a folder and passed it across to her, “Veronica started receiving these about a month ago. At first they were vague, and I just thought it was hate mail. There are some nuts out there and since Veronica recently joined the guys it did cause a stir. Do not read social media ever. But then things started to happen. Electrical faults, parts of the set suddenly falling which had been safely tied up and someone put some poison in her food. Thankfully, she only took a bite of it before being called away for a soundcheck, so it only made her sick.”

Gideon frowned in thought as she flipped through the file, “These all look to be from different people but…”

“But?” John asked.

“Can I take these so I can scan them?” Gideon asked.

“They’re photocopies,” he said before asking, “Do you need the originals for your…abilities?”

Gideon shook her head, “I’ll try these first. If they don’t give me anything then I will need to see the originals.”

John nodded.

“Why didn’t you contact the police?” Rip spoke up rolling his eyes as Gideon threw him a dark look, “Surely this is something they should know about.”

“They ruled them as accidents,” John replied, “And because they happened in different cities didn’t look any deeper into it.”

Rip frowned before noting, “We work with the police, I’ll see if they can get us any of the case files.”

“I need complete access to the stadium and band,” Gideon said standing up and walking around the room, “To be able to go everywhere and talk to anyone.”

John grimaced, “Of course but please be discreet. I don’t want anyone to know I’ve hired a private detective. In case it spooks whoever is doing this.”

“We will be. That’s why you came to us after all,” Rip stated with a nod.

“Wait? What do you mean?” Gideon demanded.

“John hired us because we know each other,” Rip explained, “So no one will realise we’re investigating.”

Gideon turned on John angrily, “You’re using us?”

“He’s being smart,” Rip calmed her down, “And I agree with it. John and I are friends, we have stories to tell if anyone questions that.”

Suspiciously Gideon demanded, “What about me?”

“We tell the truth,” John added, “You are Rip’s best friend and we’ve never met until now.”

“Gideon,” Rip stated, “We’re taking this job and we’re doing it this way. You will have complete access to everything you need because John’s trying to impress you.”

She pouted slightly as she thought it over before nodding, “Okay.”

“I don’t come off well in this plan,” John noted.

Rip sighed, “I can only pander to one of you at a time and she whines more than you do.”

Gideon smirked at John for a moment before Rip’s words sank in, “Hold on…”

“Just go and start looking around,” Rip told her before stating sharply, “See if anything sparks a vision.”

She gave him a smile before leaving them alone.

Turning back to his other friend Rip frowned at the smile on John’s face, “What?”

“I like her.”

*********************************************

Gideon wandered through the stadium with the security badge firmly around her neck. It gave her full access to the entire building which was what she needed. She had to make sure she got one of the jackets before they left.

Reaching the stage, she found only one member of the band was there, the woman they were there to protect. Veronica was the only female member of the group and played keyboard as well as shared lead vocals on some of the songs. She was singing softly as she played, a smile on her face.

“Sorry,” Gideon smiled sweetly when the other woman noticed her, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Veronica shook her head, “You didn’t. I’m just messing around while the guys are going over their wardrobe for tomorrow’s photo shoot.”

“What about your wardrobe?”

“I choose that in five minutes,” she laughed, “The boys are just useless and can’t make up their minds.”

Gideon chuckled, “The song you were singing was lovely. Is it new?”

Veronica smiled, “Just something I’m playing with. Jordan and I started writing it while we were on the bus coming here.”

“You two are close?”

“Yes,” Veronica smiled, before quickly adding, “But no matter what the internet says, we’re just friends.” She frowned suddenly, “Who are you by the way?”

“I’m Gideon,” she introduced herself, “My friend Rip is old friends with your manager. John invited us down to visit and I’ve left them talking about the old days.”

“Veronica,” the other woman chuckled, “But you already knew that.”

“I did,” Gideon smiled again before saying, “There were all sorts of rumours why you joined the band. I think my favourite was you were the only person who fit the outfit of the original girl they wanted when she fell ill.”

Veronica laughed, “Actually, Jordan is my brother’s best friend and they were rehearsing at his apartment. I was there and they asked me to sing the other part of ‘I Heard A Story’ for the demo tape. John heard it and asked me to sing on the recording, the rest is history.”

“I love that song,” Gideon smiled softly, “It makes me close my eyes and just listen, no matter what I’m doing.”

Veronica turned back to her keyboard, “Do you sing?” she started playing the melody, “Since you know this one.”

“I heard a story, of the day we met. The sun was shining but the ground was wet,” Gideon sang softly, “After the storm that raged, we danced all day and I never wanted to say goodbye.”

“I heard a story,” Veronica took over, “But it was all a dream. Just a moment in a movie scene.”

“And now each step I take,” they sang in unison, “Reminds me of that day. I don’t want it to be a story anymore.”

Applause sounded when they finished and Gideon turned to see the other three members of the band, as well as all the techs, the security guards, Rip and John standing watching them.

“You know,” Jordan Morris, the other lead singer, said as he headed onto the stage, “If you want, we’ll let you continue.”

“Jordan,” Veronica laughed, “This is Gideon.”

“Of course,” he nodded, “The friend of John’s friend.”

She smiled up at him, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I hate to do this,” John called, “But the band need to rehearse.”

Gideon nodded turning to Veronica, “Thanks for letting me sing with you.” Heading to the edge of the stage, she glanced up and frowned slightly as something glinted but whatever it was disappeared quickly.

Sitting on the edge she smiled as Rip caught her by the waist and lifted her down.

Rip drew Gideon away from the stage, “Another new career?”

“Very funny,” she rolled her eyes at him, “But it was great fun.”

He chuckled before asking, “Have you found anything?”

“Come with me,” she started up towards the gantry, “I saw something up here.”

They reached the small walkway well above the seats, looking down on the stage where the four members of the band were starting to play while John was standing to one side of them talking to some of the backstage crew.

“Rip,” Gideon snapped, grabbing his arm and pointing to one of the lights directly above Veronica which was dangling precariously.

Rip pulled out a walkie talkie from his pocket, “John, move her now.”

To Gideon’s surprise John didn’t question instead he ran over grabbed Veronica and yanked her back just before the light crashed down on the keyboard.

Gideon sighed in relief and turned to her friend whose face was grim, “It looks like whoever has been after her is determined not to fail this time.”

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #timeship #gideon #psych au #psych verse #john constantine

3 notes · View notes

pvckerstud-blog · 6 years ago

Text

SELF-PARA // BONES

WHO: Puck, Grams, Pistachio (the cat) WHEN: Saturday, May 25th, 2019 WHERE: Puck’s place NOTES/WARNINGS: I mean......the usual Noah Puckerman angst. Pretty dialogue heavy, be warned. MENTIONS: @bowtiedblaine, @halfsuperman, @snixual, @rxderslynn, mama puckerman + sarah puckerman

This has been the first day in what seems like weeks that Lima frickin’ Ohio hasn’t had any rain. Puck spent the whole day catching up on cleaning pools, and there is something satisfying about being so sore and exhausted from physical exercise when he’s been as frustrated as he has been for the last month or two. Lonely, his brain supplies unhelpfully.

After grabbing the mail from a half-broken box outside of his house, Puck is met with a now-common meow from a scruffy-looking Pistachio. His sister is lucky he’s actually got a soft spot for the stupid all-black cat, or the damn thing would starve to death on her watch. Her ideal house pet should have been a rock, for all that she’s home these days.

Sarah and his mom are off with his mom’s newest beau, again. His fancy, overly expensive lake house cabin. With a roll of his eyes, he lets the cat inside, and the furball darts straight for his water dish, without so much as a thank you.

Puck throws his bag near the front door and kicks off his beat up sneakers, landing with a thump somewhere in the darkness.

The voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Sarah tells him that it’s Saturday and it’s been a few since he called his grandma. With school ending, he’s been too busy and too self-focused to have a chat with her. They’re never short and they always end with him being scolded.

But there’s something comforting about the routine of it all, he thinks as his fingers automatically dial the keys he’s had memorized since he was a kid.

It rings a few times, and Puck’s sure she’s probably gone to bed already, and he’s just going to leave her a message when there’s a shuffling and a heavy sigh into the receiver.

“Avi,” she starts, and there’s some more of that lovely deafening shuffling he’s grown accustomed to during these phone calls. “I see you finally decide to pay your grandmother some time, Tipesh.” She hums under her breath, finally settled in what he presumes to be her usual rocking chair. “You must have a good excuse?”

Puck laughs, plopping down onto his worn out couch. “Good to hear from you too, Grams. Just wanted to check up on you.”

“I could have been dead, you know. For how long you all leave me to my things. I raised you, Avi. I should worry you sick in my old age.”

“You’re 67, grandma. Not like you’re knocking on death’s door or nothin’.”

“I will beat your large head, yeled. Your mother doesn’t discipline you.”

This woman brings a warmth to his chest that he doesn’t find in anyone else. He truly loves her. “Yeah, yeah. Just wait till I’m the one taking care of you and you can’t walk on your own, let alone try to beat me.” He can feel her frown through the phone.

“Respect your elders, Avi. Where is that mother of yours? She doesn’t call.”

“She’s with her new boyfriend. Sarah too.”

His grandmother is quiet for a long moment, “...Ah. Is this one good to you and your sister?”

Puck’s laugh is probably too bitter to be disguised from a woman who knows him so well, but he can’t stop himself before he says, “Well, he took her and Sarah to his fancy lake house for the holiday and left behind her delinquent son, so, yeah, probably better than the last.”

“Mm. Your mother is smart. She will marry a man with means, this time. Your father was an idiot. She was a fool to be with him, Avi.”

“Yeah, I know, Grams--”

“When will you change that name of yours? She was also a fool for naming you after him. What a trick, he played on her.”

“You used to like my name, you know.”

“That was before he up and left. Must run in the family, yes? Your grandfather was garbage too. You are not like them. You have stayed with your mother, no matter her bad decisions.”

“Well aren’t you just sweet.”

“Avi sounds much better, anyways.”

“You never call me Noah, it’s always Avi, so what does it matter if it’s legally changed?”

“That will be on your diploma, you know--” she talks over him like it doesn’t matter, and she’s pretty damn good at ignoring his protests.

“If I graduate.”

“You will, or I will beat your--”

“My head, I know. Can you even reach that high?”

“I will find a stool just to beat you with.”

There’s a moment where all he can do is laugh. She brings him such a stupid joy that reminds him of being a kid again. “Can I come stay with you tomorrow? They’ll be gone until Tuesday,” Puck finally says once he’s caught his breath.

“Of course. I haven’t made your room into my knitting studio yet.” She always says she will, but Puck knows it’s an empty threat. “Are you bringing that big friend of yours? The one with the dimples?”

The pang of hurt surprises him, and he’s quiet for too long because she’s repeating his middle name into the phone before he gets out a quiet, “No, Grams. Just me.”

“You should bring him. You know I like him very much. He always eats whatever I put in front of him.”

Puck rips off the bandaid just to get her to shut up about it-- “We’re not friends anymore.”

And then it’s his turn to sit in silence. He lets her stew in it though. Because she knows they’ve been friends since kindergarten, and that he always brings Finn with him to her place. And maybe that’s why he’s been avoiding her for a while now because he can’t stand how empty things are without him--

“That is a shame. Men are fools, Avi. You are a sweet boy, even when you are foolish. You will come together again.”

And like that, a weight is off of his shoulders, because wow, he finally told someone he’s hurting and he didn’t even have to say it out loud. “Thanks, Grams. Appreciate it.”

“Bring that cat of yours. There is a stray around my porch and I want them to have kittens.” And the subject is changed. No more Finn, no more thinking about the fact that he doesn’t even have Ryder thanks to Tina, and he’s so fucking lonely. Blaine’s the only person who even checks to see if he hasn’t drank himself into some stupor the evening before, and his mom always says she’ll call when she’s out of town and conveniently ‘forgets’ the moment she walks out of the door. Even his dad has sent him a ‘Happy Sweet 16th Birthday’ card, two years too late, with the short message of ‘To Noah Puckerman Jr; Happy birthday. Better late than never. Dad’ and a PS asking for 10 bucks and a lotto ticket when Puck gets the chance.

“Chio doesn’t like cars, Grandma. He’ll freak if I try and put him in the truck.”

“Then walk. That cat cannot control you, Tipesh.”

Puck rolls his eyes, but concedes. His grandma’s rundown house isn’t too far from his own; just a mile or two, down dirty streets filled with old mattresses and littered with Coke cans and cigarette butts.

He remembers walking down those same roads with Finn. And Santana, when they were closer. He feels like he’s been distancing himself from people, lately. The fact that it’s his senior year and he’s gonna have to pretend to be an adult soon has him on edge, and he’s afraid if he stays close with a single person, he’s gonna combust with all this anxiety he’s never had to worry about before.

They talk a while longer before a silence overcomes them, and ever the conversationalist, his grandma is the one to break it, “You are a good boy, Avi. You have been dealt a hand that many would buckle under the weight of. Do not let others tell you what your cards should be. Whatever that means for you.”

Puck rubs at his eyes when the burning sensation gets to be too much, and he says, “Yeah, Grams. Thanks,” and he knows that she knows that he’s crying. He’s never seen her cry a day in her life before. “I will be over tomorrow after work, okay?”

“Yes, ben. I will see you tomorrow.”

And for a second he wants to tell her that he’s given up tobacco. That the ‘cancer sticks’ she’s always yelling about are finally gone, thanks to the all-consuming Blaine Anderson who’s slowly taking over his life, but then he knows she will ask about the ‘rat poison’ he drinks to get himself to sleep every night, and it’s not worth all of the trouble for some recognition.

“I love you, Avi.”

“I love you too, Grams.”

A soft ‘click’ ends the call, and Puck is left sitting in silence, a small black cat curled onto his flat front shorts, in the darkness of his creaky, old, empty house.

Puck throws his arms behind his head and breaths a long, heavy sigh. There’s a bottle of Tito’s waiting for him in the kitchen, and he hates that it’s become his bedtime routine.

#para #selfpara #grandma time #get ready for the ANGST TRAIN

6 notes · View notes

sampersandman · 6 years ago

Text

more inane ramblings

so i’ve been thinking about doing a more in-depth kind of post talking about the parallels i see here, but I don’t think I’ll ever get around to it.

The other day I was reminded of this old internet story, one that I’d heard about before, but hearing it now after having seen this fandom made it speak louder to me in a sense. Back in the day there was a game called Creatures where you raise virtual pets. One of the pets you could own was called a Norn. This game was interesting in that it didn’t just leave the pets dirty or starving until you washed and fed them like on neopets or with nintendogs, no, if you mistreated them, they would remember. It was a method created for training them I believe (?) So of course this brought about some people who wanted to experiment with the AI...

Bring in AntiNorn, a user who ran a website by the same name who would torture Norns and distribute them to people for a unique experience in the game. Apparently his goal was to have people simulate the rehabilitation of real life animals. However, the community did not take to kindly to this “sick” person who got off torturing “innocent animals” (might I remind you that these are virtual pets) and a large hate mod formed, people constantly sending death threats and vulgarities to this person and demanded that he take his site down. They acted like there were actual stakes here, and they grouped together in order to form rehabilitation services for the tortured Norns in order to “save” them. After the whole ordeal, one of the game’s creators admitted to liking the guy because he was doing exactly what the game was intended for- experimentation. He commended the amount of compassion people displayed for these little AI creatures but lamented how these very people were not keen on giving the benefit of the doubt to another actual person: “ Much of his hate mail showed a greater regard for the creatures than it did for the life of this one human being.”

AntiNorn remembers it similarly: “ The primary thing I've learned is that the majority of so-called "loving" Creatures players are vindictive, hateful people who lack a firm grip on reality. “

What’s this got to do with Gorillaz? Well, a lot, given that they are a virtual band of made-up characters created in order to push forth the artwork and the music while the actual people behind it get to stay out of the limelight. ‘Reject False Icons’, and ya’know. Pushing these characters forward has also enabled them to have a lot more fun and make a lot more jokes than they wouldn’t be able to otherwise, in Murdoc’s case (Jamie/Damon has said that they’d use him when they wanted to bad-mouth a celebrity) and mock themselves in 2D’s case (as he repeats quite a few things that Damon has said, only given its coming from a character like him, it makes what he says seem stupid/ridiculous/nonsensical.)

and it sure seems like on here and twitter people who like the characters for being cartoon characters and enjoy their antics as a passive viewer are made out to be the “bad guy”. Like, how many times have I seen people carry on about the abuse 2D has suffered or how Noodle grew up facing sexual harassment thats possibly damaged their relationship or people who have entire blogs dedicated to reblogging posts they don’t agree with and suicide-baiting so-called “Murdoc stans”. Its totally insane- these aren’t real people! They don’t even exist to emulate real people or be relatable in that sense at all and it becomes even more apparent once you consider how both Murdoc AND 2D seem to be extensions of Jamie+Damon themselves rather than any of the characters being individuals. The advantage of them being cartoon characters is that Jamie/Cass/Damon/Remi can put them in all sorts of situations without anybody actually getting hurt. These aren’t people with their safety or mental health being at risk who need your defending! However, there is a very real person on the other side of your computer screen who is capable of being hurt and you’ll spend day in and day out trying to hurt them over what you might perceive as “justice” without seeing the damage you do, all over a cartoon. But you won’t come out unscathed either. Your behavior certainly signals some greater problem.

You are meant to just watch the events unfold like any other cartoon, and if you disagree with where they go on a moral level, then you can’t pick and choose which characters to hate and which to ‘protect’, because they are all made by the same people. You hold this grudge against the writers- realize how stupid that is, because they’re their characters to do with as they please- and then move onto something else.

This is a little bit of a side-note but I thought about it a lot too. I posted something a while ago where Jamie recounts his adventures with Gorillaz’s fanbase back in 2004. He starts the conversation talking about how wild it is that he’s actually getting thirsty fanmail addressed to MURDOC, a cartoon! It’s so ridiculous to him... and he moves on to a more somber note, saying that once he was roleplaying as Murdoc in their forums while a suicidal teenager came in to vent his misery and Jamie had to talk him down while still in character. And he was successful. The kid thanked him and logged of.

I bring this up because I don’t know how many times since making that post I have seen it paraphrased that “Murdoc talked a kid out of suicide”. No he didn’t. Murdoc isn’t real, but this situation was. Guys, Jamie talked a kid out of suicide. To attribute that to Murdoc for the sake of making him sympathetic, I just, I really don’t know whats wrong with you. Please show this story more respect.

#long rant #about the entire point of being a virtual band #you can reblog/reply i dont mind

18 notes · View notes

yuichi-ro · 3 years ago

Note

honestly i love shipping but like

most of the time only when is a shonen show written by a man. solely bc most of the time they suck at writing romance and women and its a personal flex when i can go “haha you suck i am better than you at this.”

but i also only ship extremely specific tropes that i in everything which are not heteronormative in itself at all so like… i am definitely in the minority there as well lmao. have gotten death threats over the stuff i write before so maybe just seeing the hate this honestly rather relaxing show for me receives reminds me of that.

romance and slice of life is 100% just me yearning for what they have lmao but i am also super picky when it comes to stuff like that. nothing will ever beat ouran high school host club that was way ahead of its time

that and the unbridled rage burning in my body because the entire fugging covid situation i am in rn.

i have three roommates, the two who also got covid and i spend the last two weeks with and then the third roommate who is, for the lack of a better word, a womanchild. my other two roommates i love with all my heart- i am sitting here eating a popsicle one of them got out of their way to get me after i told them my throat was hurting bc of covid (since they are already off the hook again and negative) and the other one is also super super nice. but the third one. god i hope she moves out soon. never does any of her chores, never cleans her dirty dishes and is just generally childish and gross ugh. she is in her thirties as well. i was more responsible at 12 than she is now. so so frustrating ugh

not to mention two of the profs ive mailed bc of missed work still haven’t mailed me back and without being able to go to my outlet for my emotions being the gym, my sanity is slowly fading thats why i am sitting on the crossover google doc lmao

mostly trying to figure out reader’s personality right now as i want her personality to also reflect how she doesn’t exactly know who she is as she has the constant opportunity to be who the other person would most want with of course getou and later some of the others trying to help her with that. so as a basis probably someone outwardly friendly with an easy going facade and smile as to always lure others into a sense of security? her being a good people person is a given with her cursed ability i just need to find a way to translate it well without it coming off as annoying oof

also definitely want the sorcerer trio (getou gojo reader) to have this air of… adult coolness around them? since they definitely werent allowed to ever be kids and the tr boys are just… kinda losers they eat that up tbh so… reader as mature but playful for the hidden mommyness vibes

i am talking out of my ass thats what i get from the meds smh but writing flustered boys is my therapy so so it shall be. the greedy part of my brain hath spoketh or something.

also definitely thought about building up a narrative parallel to the three monkeys of “see no evil hear no evil speak no evil” as monkeys just fits to getou anyway but see no evil -> gojo with his six eyes, hear no evil -> reader with their ability, speak no evil -> getou with his curse swallowing idk it seems kinda fitting and fun but also dumb XD

also also i shall check this sonny boy show out… knowing u it’s probably good and probably has zeno robinson in the eng dub… what can go wrong. god i am not ready for new episodes of amphibia and owl house tomorrow. not at all. pls let is get a glimpse at darius comforting hunter thx

-🌌momo

growing up on bleach I guess there were just so many possibilities of relations between five hundred fucking characters (ok I'm not even exaggerating I think there might be that many) that shipping never appealed to me. Though I can't say I hate it bc I mean forever I've always loved developing OCs and with shipping that way. But to be a full blown shipper and the weird fixations people grow like if their ship doesn't end up canon they will die turned me off from it pretty much immediately (like people bullying creators of disney shows so badly they have to end shows and butcher endings just to stop receiving death threats like wtf is wrong with people i know not all shippers are like that but...there's a lot more like that then their should be)

but not even as someone who cares about shipping I've received death threats so we can be buddies in that boat babe <3

ok even I can't deny how good ouran was. That is one of those stupid shows my wife did convince me to watch and I did like it. And unironically I do love the main couple. Like- for me to give a shit about a relationship- I need to feel that the characters will love each other no matter what. Even if they were worms or the same gender or two trees in a forest. I need that heart wrenching kind of soul mate bond that transcends having a human body then I'm into it (I will die on Ichigo/Orihime. That was my favorite thing as a kid and even as an almost 30 yr old that entire thing kills my heart every time I think about it)

ok but the amount of people in their 30s that act like though?? It must be a generational thing bc most the people I went to beauty school in that age bracket were just as disgusting?? And in the weirdest like permanent child ways?? RIP I would loose my shit but I live with my brother who basically is the same way. I mean he's not in his 30s but he's a spoiled rotten youngest child with an addiction so the cleaning up after someone with the mentality of a child is trying I get it. The other ones sound absolutely pleasant though. Having roommates honestly was one of the reasons I refused to go to a four year college. My friends that did had the horrific experiences you read on like reddit and our college was like "Its mandatory you live on campus or we won't let you in" and I noped outta that so fucking hard. Not trading my sanity for a paper I ended up not using anyways 🙃

ok but no seriously you SHOULD check out sonny boy bc the way you're trying to figure out the readers personality would fit two of the female characters on there SO well for inspiration. Like no joke reading the ideal outline of how you want the reader to come off, there's exactly two sonny boy characters that I think would be freaking perfect in both mentality, speech patterns and morals that would do you wonders for refining the readers personality for the crossover fic. Like I'm not trying to sell you on the show (besides the fact its visuals are stunning ngl) but in terms of your fic I think that show could offer the BEST ideas for it. Even with the three monkey's thing to include the trio/dumbassery/mortality of being a sorcerer. Like you gotta watch it now the story telling and tonality to the series would do SO well for the crossover fic and vetting out personalities/relationship patterns between the trio + reader and so forth. Like my nerd brain is buzzing there's so much symbolism in sonny boy that would lend itself sooo fucking well to the crossover fic in general

AND I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THERE'S NOT ZENO ROBINSON IN IT THANK YOU VERY MUCH....not that there shouldnt be him in everything -3-

the VAs in sonny boy are amazing though, Shinra (fire force) is in it, Uraraka's VA, Aizawa's VA, Endeavor's, and two of them sound really a lot like Chifuyu and Bakugou but they aren't. Still though cast is really amazing and their tones send chills down your spine just as much as the amazing animations (it shares the same director of Space Dandy if you've watched that)

god i fucking saw the announcements that Amphiba is moving to end game status with what's going to happen and IM JUST NOT FUCKING READY THIS ISNT GONNA TURN OUT WELL FOR SOMEONE AND EMOTIONALLY IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH

#if i dont get to know that my baby hunter is ok #im gonna flip a fucking table #but we're probably gonna fuck off and ignore the fact hunter is missing for at least an entire episode bc why not!#gonna be so pissed and not ready for this this #disney cartoons making me feel more than a god damn world famous anime #fuck tokyorev disney cartoons will hurt you for real #also im serious sonny boy is terrific but if you watch it and call me out on the one having a mommy kink #istg -3-#im not that predictable -3-#my favorite is just like noritoshi baji mob and inosuke wrapped up in one and i love him #hes so adorable let me mother it to death #I GOTTA #🌌.♡#three.talks

1 note · View note

elliottcoka · 6 years ago

Text

Don’t worry about reading this it’s a rant

I shouldn’t have to wake up to harassment over a fucking tv show opinion.

Okay, so I’m making this post as if anyone cares because I don’t want to talk to myself for a giant freaking post. It fucking SUCKS to go to bed, not worrying about the silliness of a tumblr fight since you’ve been blocked, to see that you’ve been @ in MORE of the same bullshit. I’ve had to kindly ask a follower to show me what was said or any updates on this shit because I’ve been blocked. Who blocks someone and keeps the conversation/argument going?? It got to the point that I sent the OP an ASK saying to stop harassing me. Also, what I don’t understand is the only things I ever said was that they were being hypocritical and genuine questions of why OP was so fucking pissed about a show they apparently don’t care about anymore. So let me break this shit down. It’s ridiculous. 1) First thing that happened is that rampagerobot shared his opinion on a post gassing up “Donna Noble”. Idek who the fuck that is but he thought she disgraced the show. Okay cool, an opinion. NOW let’s remind ourselves that tumblr is NOT being used for what it was supposed to be. Tumblr was meant for people in things they like (fashion, extreme sports, food critique) to join together and share their pictures/opinions on the things they had in common. If tumblr was actually being used for what it was supposed to be used for, and not shit posting, I GUARANTEE that someone would share a new haute couture spring collection and another person would say “Man, those designs are so unflattering. It’s a disgrace to the model wearing it!!” and NORMALLY people would say “Oh, I actually really like his collection. I’m sorry you don’t.” Or even ask “Why do you dislike the design??” Tumblr users have always lacked the BIGGEST, most important thing for its actual use: civility. It takes civility and looking past your own opinions and perspectives to say “I love this thing, but you don’t. Why is that?” (and no, I’m not saying we should say this to racists or phobic assholes, but if tumblr was used how it should be we probably wouldn’t run into the issues of race, lgbt stuff, or politics as frequently.)

2. The ONLY reason rampagerobot EVER fought back with petty bullshit was whenever the OP made the HUGE STRETCH of saying that he was being called a lunatic, where the op when on a rant about just how shitty rampagerobot was being. At this point, all rampage robot had said was that the op should chill (at least I think since I physically can’t see their shit any more). OP thinks that rampagerobot doesn’t have the right to tell him to chill when to rampagerobot it was a simple opinion about a show character he didn’t like. Of course, with that perspective, rampagerobot thought he should chill. Do I think any and all insults were uncalled for? YES. and this does go for all sides. Do I think things could have been de-escalated if OP took a step back, thought “Am I really going to get this upset over a tv show?” Yes. I do. Because we all have to do that sometimes. We have things that are so special to us... things that hold a precious place in our hearts where our gut reaction is to say “hey fuck you, man. don’t shit on what I love!” But it’s always important to remember to take that step back. It’s important to figure out how much someone else’s opinion (on the fucking internet lol) is going to mean to us. *little note here: that’s especially why I don't understand the insults and why the stuff I’ll cover soon was ever considered necessary.* Now, we get into when I really fucking tried to implement what I’m talking about. When I tried to de-escalate the situation. I made a joke (shared a meme actually) hoping to lessen tension. Then I asked the OP questions similar to this. I asked why they did care, especially when they said they didn’t care about the show anymore... why the aggression was necessary... And I never got an answer. The drama continued and I felt at a loss. How do you even try to reason or end an argument with someone who disregards genuine curiosity to understand? How do you help that person find the closure they need from hearing that someone dislikes a character they love? At this point, I don’t think you can because I’ve been forced to come to the assumption that OP didn’t want closure at the time. They didn’t want to work through things. I think they wanted to be angry. The things I’ve had to learn about anger are: Anger is a strong emotion. It’s okay to feel it as long as it isn’t holding you back. Anger, being a strong emotion, is a lot to feel. It’s a lot for you to consume. Do you want to keep using your energy to feel or emit it? I think anger consumed everyone way too much. And I don’t understand why at all.

3. This is literally the only reason I felt the need to make this post. If you skip over EVERYTHING else, please read this. I don’t understand why after everything was over... why when both rampagerobot and I were blocked... we were still @ in these posts. I don't understand why I’ve been getting hate messages all night over this silly argument when I didn’t say anything meant to make anyone feel degraded. Like, why is this still happening to me specifically? Well, thanks to the oh so kind follower who investigated this bullshit for me, I know. Apparently, the OP and their girlfriend have been receiving hate mail themselves. To the op and their girlfriend: I’m sorry you’re going through that. As I’m feeling now, it’s quite shitty to go through. BUT I’M NOT DOING IT. If your other posts about harassing who’s harassing you are directed at me, please stop. I’ve had to come to the conclusion that the ONLY people that I logically feel okay thinking are at fault for my hate messages are @strawberryoverlord @themadcapmathematician and/or someone with apricot or some shit in their username idk it anymore and can’t find it soooo. But those were the ONLY three people involved in this who seemed to care. If it’s not you three, then whoever it is, stop. I don’t care about Dr. Who. I don’t know what a “tardis” is (for the longest time I legit thought it was a slur). And all I ever tried to do was point out ridiculousness in this shit as well as standing up for my partner. Also, the MOST ADVOCATED thing everyone kept telling rampagerobot to do was to make his own posts. When he did, you all attacked him on there. You completely left the basis of the actual fight behind, attacking him or silly things like dick size or calling him a joke. Where did that get anyone?? You asked us to be kind, asked us to leave your posts, and when we did we were attacked. We still are being attacked. And yet, you also thought the death threats were SOOO ridiculous to bring up... but if you guys happen to be the ones harassing us, and even if you aren’t, we’re still facing harassment. Even if harassment isn’t death threats, as tumblr should well know, it can make someone want to kill themselves. (thankfully rampage and I aren’t in that kind of mindset or that bothered when this all came from an interent post over Dr. Who lol). Whoever it is, just stop. Not even for my sake or rampagerobot’s, but for your own. I’m not sending anything to you. I don’t know or care about this show. The same goes for him. At the end of the day, this was fucking stupid. The whole argument was a waste of everyone’s time. I ask that everyone involved remember to take a step back... walk away from the screen for a second... remember we’re all humans here (lol) and to reevaluate where their priorities stand. Do they lie in “Internet arguments”, filling that box full? Or would you actually rather do something different... ignoring the opinions that feel hateful or mean, and just enjoying the day as it was?

#strawberryoverlord #themadcapmathematician #rampagerobot #elliottcoka #drama #discourse #dr. who #rant #personal? lol i'm posting this on the internet so it's v private!#super rant #this is insanely long #don't bother reading #say hi to your family they miss you #tell your family to fuck off if they dont #happy holidays #remember there's a human on the other side of the screen

1 note · View note

wesratcliffe · 7 years ago

Text

part 1 || self-para

wesley shot up from his chair, startling salem where she’d been leisurely munching on her dog treats, and raced over to the television on the opposite wall. he came face to face with the source of his nightmares, the source of his misery, the source of everything wrong in his life–

tw; mentions of murder, death, anxiety/panic attack, mentions of alcohol abuse

his phone was ringing again.

wesley didn’t have to answer it to know it was his mother, trying to reach out for whatever reason that he couldn’t quite fathom. she kept calling from an unknown number, probably so that he couldn’t block her. he simply let her leave another voice mail that he’d delete without listening to.

he stepped into the coffee shop with his dog at his side. the employees always looked forward to seeing him, if only because he always stopped by at the end of his morning walk with salem. she was a favorite among town.

“good morning,” said the barista with a friendly smile. “and how’s our favorite customer?”

“she’s good,” wesley answered, knowing they were not referring to him. salem stared up at the barista with pleading eyes, begging for the treat they always gave to her. “she’s energetic this morning, but i’ll try to keep her from hopping over the counter again.”

the worker waved off his comment as they placed the cup of water and dog treat on the ground in front of salem. “you know none of us mind when she visits. i’ll get started on your usual.”

wesley stepped off to the side after paying, resting in a chair after the long walk and play time in the park. he vaguely registered the news station on in the background.

“we’re excited to learn that such a large corporation will be spreading to the united states! mr. ratcliffe–”

wesley’s head snapped up.

“do you have any comments on the status of your now international business?”

no. no, no, no, no. wesley was frozen in his seat with a white-knuckled grip on the arm rests.

“i’m incredibly excited for such a big step forward in expanding my empire–”

NO.

“i’ve been working on a move to the united states for some time! nearly a decade, in fact. but every time there was something that prevented us from truly moving forward.” his father practically oozed smarmy businessman arrogance. he looked older than wesley remembered. he had more wrinkles around his eyes, his jowls had sunken lower and his hair line had further receded. “but now, with our business so booming in the uk, we’re confident we’ll be able to bring the same success to the states.”

the scene cut back to the reporter at the desk. “according to our estimates, ratcliffe industries could very well offer upwards of two thousand new jobs in the richmond, virginia metropolitan area. the real estate tycoon jonathan ratcliffe continued to express his optimistic view on the new business venture, and has informed us that ratcliffe industries will be opening its doors for interviews at the end of the month–”

he felt sick to his stomach. no, that didn’t describe the feeling correctly. it was as if his insides were twisting together in terror, turning inside out in some futile attempt to escape. john ratcliffe was coming here, to the united states, in less than a month. the icy chill of fear — real, gripping fear that he hadn’t felt so intensely in so long — clamped down on his heart. he remembered at one point visiting london, trying and failing to confront his father over and over again.

he’d been too scared, so he’d run away. as usual.

he felt the urge to run again. go to another state, portland maybe. far, far away from the east coast. or perhaps another country, somewhere he was certain his father would never go.

wesley felt a tug on his hand and it jolted him out of his terror-induced trance. he hadn’t realized how intensely he was breathing. he was practically hyperventilating. his gaze fell to the source of the tug, a concerned looking salem who gazed up at him with soft brown eyes. eyes full of infinite, unwavering trust and love, the kind of love that only an animal can offer.

he couldn’t run. not now, not again. not after all of the progress he’d made.

he was reminded of michele, of his friends, of the life he’d built for himself, however imperfect it still was.

wesley hid his face in his hands and released a shaky breath. his breathing had calmed, though the terror still remained.

“one black coffee, no cream, two sugars–” said the barista, placing the to-go cup in front of him. wesley couldn’t help the jolt that startled through him.

“thank you,” he mumbled, taking the cup to go. his feet felt heavy, his body felt as if it was made of some impossibly heavy material, and he wondered how to move forward from this.

the sounds of his office were just a haze in the back of his mind. copy machines droned on, phones rang, keys tapping, mice clicking, the coffee machine clacked as it forced out some horrendous caffeinated concoction.

all wesley could think about was the things he’d seen his father do. he’d been transported back, back to the scared sixteen-year-old boy hiding in a closet as he watched his father murder someone in cold blood. he could hear the man’s desperate pleas. the pleas of a man who had a family, that he’d pay john back, that he would be good for the money, sobs of please, please don’t, i have a daughter–

and then the gun shot.

it was a sharp sound, sharper than wesley would have imagined. he wondered how it was that people got away with shooting one unnoticed. to him it seemed like the loudest sound in the world.

wesley sat terrified in that closet as john had his assistant clean up the blood. the stench had been overwhelming. it nearly made him vomit up his lunch from that day.

“wesley–”

welsey’s breathing quickened, heart hammering in his chest so loudly he was certain it was giving him away.

“wesley.”

wesley jolted, harshly jerking his shoulder out of his boss’ grip. the sounds of the office returned to his ears, and the smell of blood was replaced by the smell of the cheap lemon-scented cleaner the custodian used.

“are you okay? are you sick? you look like a ghost.”

wesley noticed he was breathing heavily again. he hard to force himself to speak, had to try and take some steadying breaths to even be able to force out a response. he wondered if this was what panic attacks felt like.

“i’m just, not feeling great,” he croaked out. his voice sounded overly used, like he’d been screaming.

his boss recoiled with a grimace. “well then go the hell home. you know what this office was like when the flu went around, our entire accounting department was out the whole week. get out, go home if that shit is contagious.”

wesley nodded numbly. he had to go. somewhere else. anywhere else.

the guilt settled in with the fear when he got home and sat down on his couch. salem was excited to see him as usual, and he’d gone through the motions of petting her as he stared blankly at the wall in front of him.

he remembered the last time he spoke to his father. it was when he’d first enrolled in wdu. the school had understandably reached out to a guardian, wondering if this beat-up looking runaway had anyone who was looking for him.

the phone call had been a screaming match. their first conversation in nearly three years, actually. john demanded that he come home, demanded to know what the hell had caused this–

the line had gone eerily silent when wesley revealed to his father than he saw him kill that man. it wasn’t a guilty silence, but a terrifying one. wesley could feel the fury radiating through the phone.

“if you tell anyone, i’ll bring you down with me. i’ll ruin you.”

and then the deal. the deal that wesley cowardly offered up as something, anything, to get him away from his father.

you don’t contact me, and i don’t tell. you leave me alone, and i’ll keep my mouth shut.

that was when the self-hatred started. sometimes his therapist had tried to press him to ask when these self-esteem issues had first started. she’d said they often first arose during adolescence, often as a cause of natural insecurity and hormones that most teens went through. but wesley wasn’t an insecure teenager. he’d been blissfully unaware, living in the false reality his father had carefully crafted with fear tactics and threats. his therapist had dropped the subject for a while, though it was clear there was something he wasn’t telling her.

and wasn’t that just the goddamn understatement of the century.

john had threatened him, told him that if he ever said anything to anyone, he’d spend whatever money necessary to destroy wesley’s life. wesley believed him. and so, to protect his own skin, he’d kept the secret.

for seven years now he’d been sitting on this, and for four years he’s hated himself for it. he recalled his first few months at wdu. he was the grouchiest then. no friends, hence the ever-present loneliness, and an overwhelming cloud of misery followed him everywhere. he remembered how he used to rely on alcohol and meaningless sex to feel something. to feel some sense of companionship.

it was at one of those parties that he’d met will, and then later emmett. they didn’t go away after they were all sober, nor in the years to follow.

it was during a sober day that he’d met michele. she’d scolded him on something, his attitude, if he recalled. he’d snarked back at her, and so the cycle had begun. he remembered how infuriating she was, how frustratingly stubborn. those qualities certainly hadn’t disappeared, except now his tune on them had changed. he remembered when their fighting turned to banter, turned to flirting. when their hatred for each other turned to mutual respect, to friendship, to infatuation, to love.

he remembered feeling like his life was coming together for once, like maybe he could move on from this guilt and self-hatred. maybe he and his father could co-exist on opposite sides of the world in peace, never bothering of or thinking of the other.

and then his mother, the same woman who’d left him a voicemail only hours before.

wesley pulled out his phone and instead of hitting the delete button, he hit play.

“wesley, i pray that you’re listening to these...” he found it off that he recognized her voice, even though he only really remembered their single conversation as an adult. “i know that you don’t want to see me, and i don’t blame you. i ran, and left you behind. but i can’t do that again. i can’t leave you behind without warning you. your father is coming. the news was announce officially announced yesterday. the rumors have been circling for some months, and you know i hoped that it was just another rumor. god i wish it was a rumor. ...i don’t know how you’ve gotten him to leave you alone for so long. you must have some secret on him...” the line went silent, and wesley thought was the end.

“be safe, son. keep an eye out for him. don’t let him near you, please. ...i love you, let me know if you get–”

wesley quickly pressed the delete button.

wesley’s walk to therapy was one he’d gotten used to. he went after work once a week now. he’d tried to do lunch breaks, but found that having a deeply emotional hour made it harder to drag himself back into work.

“so, tell me what’s on your mind.”

dr. lauren vaughn hadn’t started a session that way since he’d first started therapy. normally now they just chatted. there were some sessions that were more intense, some where deeply buried issues resurfaced, others were revelations were made. but they’d found an equilibrium that worked for them.

“what makes you think something is on my mind?” he asked. he still often answered the too personal questions with questions of his own. it was an avoidance tactic both he and lauren were aware of.

“you have been seeing me at least once a week, sometimes two or three, for nearly a year now–”

had it really been almost a year? he supposed so, it was almost summer.

“i think i know when something is on your mind.”

wesley fiddled his fingers and stared down at the abstractly patterned carpet. it was a mix of beiges, browns and greens. earthy tones that he supposed were supposed to feel neutral and relaxing.

“...do you want to talk about it?”

lauren had learned quickly that there were some things that he refused to discuss. she’d tried to poke and prod at first, only for wesley to leave sessions early and in a huff. she’d found progress was more steadily made when wesley was allowed to reveal things at his own terms. some people wanted to talk, but wesley was not one of those people.

“...say you’re keeping a secret...”

wesley searched for words. how did he even begin? how much did he reveal? the thought of revealing all of it made his stomach twist in fear, and the thought of not saying anything at all made it writhe in guilt.

he just couldn’t win.

“say you’ve been keeping a secret for...a long, long time. a secret that you shouldn’t have been keeping, because keeping it...hurts people. but...revealing it hurts yourself. and– and you want to tell everyone, because it’s the right thing to do. but what happens when the right thing to do brings bad consequences for you? and...and the people close to you?”

lauren sighed, wondering what wesley could possibly be talking about. “well... keeping this secret seems to be hurting you too, doesn’t it?”

wesley paused. she...wasn’t wrong.

“and maybe, doing the right thing would help in the long run, even if it’s hard in the beginning. maybe it would help others, and it would help you.”

#self para #❛❛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ sᴇᴇ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ sɪᴅᴇ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ sʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪғ ɪ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ — ( para )#mentions of murder cw #alcohol abuse cw #murder cw #panic attack cw #anxiety cw #violence cw #: )

2 notes · View notes

forest-of-thought · 7 years ago

Text

Just a reminder - regarding Stirpicus (kinda long)

Now before I get started i’m aware that most of the MCSM community is a really friendly and welcoming place, and that’s one of the reasons why we all love it. Unlike most groups for the Telltale games we have somehow managed to not end up in a silly internet war against each other or have resorted to being bitter or hate-fueled. I mean that as no shade towards the other fandoms, just that well... it’s true. Compare us to any other Telltale community and most of the time we seem quite harmonious by comparison.

BUT there are are some of you that tend to take things a little extreme at times, whether you are just being an asshole for the sake of it,or just someone extremely passionate of the series that perhaps you unknowingly become quite passive aggressive in your comments due to frustration regarding things you aren’t happy with in the game.

^ This is the reason why i’m making this post. I don’t wish to come across as preachy, but I feel like we need to address these issues so we don’t end up ruining this beautiful community like we did certain “other ones”.

Let’s not become a place where people fight over silly stuff like ships or characters, or send so much hate mail and death threats to other members and the staff of Telltale that even the people that work there refuse to interact with us anymore.

That’s not even a joke btw, on the Tellltale forums we actually got so bad that at one point we actually drove away voice actors who once used to talk to us on there because we became too much for them. I’m also pretty sure we were also the reason why the staff members who once used to appear and answer questions stopped doing it.

I’m aware that things aren’t that bad here. The point is that we risk becoming that bad if we aren’t careful of our actions.

Now, to get into the actual reason for this post;

Eric Stirpe has been getting quite a few passive aggressive comments on his Tumblr lately. Most of which is seemingly through his Ask box, and there’s no doubt more of those comments than what we see actually published on the blog.

Quite a few are just ones that feel quite bummed out about things such as the lack of branching paths and the choice system. Those ones are more questions, with a bitter undertone to them. Which is still pretty crap, but at least there is also some form of civilness there.

But then you get ones like this;

Okay, now we are kind of drifting towards flat out malicious territory and that’s not cool.

Guys, I get that you are probably frustrated by things regarding the game:

Maybe you don’t like how the game deals with branching the story or altering it?

Maybe you hate the fact that we no longer have the rewind feature?

Or that perhaps you just really badly want news on the upcoming episode?

All of that is perfectly reasonable feelings to have, and you are entitled to your own opinions.

But you should keep some factors in mind here;

Eric Stirpe isn’t obligated to tell us anything. He doesn’t have to answer our questions if he doesn’t want to. It isn’t his job to inform us of these things, but he does it because he’s a really cool guy that likes interacting with us and sharing things about the game with us. It’s a courtesy, and one of which we shouldn’t be taking advantage of.

He doesn’t know everything. I don’t know how Telltale works since I don’t work there or have a job in a game industry, but I doubt Stirpicus is in charge of the release date for the game or knows a ton about the soundtrack, voice actors (he probably does a little but he’s not in charge of that section), animation process or any other technical issues. Keep in mind that just because he is the lead writer of the game, that doesn’t mean he knows EVERYTHING that goes on regarding it. A lot of other people work on the game as well.

You shouldn’t be an asshole anyway. If you really want someone to take you seriously and listen to you, then you should probably not go sending douchey mail to them. Because then you just look stupid and immature and not someone worth even replying to. I’m not saying you can’t express your concerns regarding the game, in fact i’d probably encourage it since fan feedback is a great way for a game to improve. What i’m saying is that you should take into consideration your tone, and that if you’re going to be critical at least try and make it constructive so it’s not just needless whining.

Keep in mind the actual power that the staff member even has. This sorta ties into the “he doesn’t know everything” part, but basically keep in mind what role the staff member has in the company. You can’t go to Stirpe complaining about a game mechanic if he isn’t even in charge of it to begin with. What is he supposed to do? you might think “well he can tell the people who are in charge of it” and yeah you’re right, but also keep in mind that he can’t just leave what he’s currently doing constantly to go hopping around different apartments giving feedback to everyone every single time he gets a Tumblr comment from a fan. It’s a little bit ridiculous to be honest.

Make sure your question hasn’t been answered already. I know you probably don’t want to go surfing through pages of blog content, but I can’t even count how many times i’ve seen people ask the same questions that have been answered many times before. I’m sure Stirpicus doesn’t mind helping you with your questions on how to be a successful writer (as an example) but he gets that question asked a lot and it must be frustrating when you’re someone who has a lot of messages in your inbox every single day and a full time job, to have to filter through the same stuff constantly. (I guess in regards to Stirpicus, maybe he can add a “Tags” section to his blog so people can just click on a tag that will direct them to things related to what they want to ask).

I’m sorry if I went on a long rant there, I don’t mean to sound like i’m chewing you all out here. I just really care about this fandom and don’t want it to eventually become ruined like a lot of other ones have become (for me).

Please be wary of your actions, guys.

We want to remain an optimistic and friendly place that has nice things - like being able to talk to a writer of the game. So please don’t ruin that for other people who don’t often get get that opportunity. And also remember to treat staff fairly and keep in mind that they are just people like us. Don’t project your irritation towards the game onto them and even if you don’t agree with certain things, remember to approach it in a civil and respectful manner.

As a last note;

Thank you Eric Stirpe for helping make this amazing game and spending so much time interacting with us and going out of your way to be an active presence on here :) we really do appreciate you and no matter how many people direct their anger towards you, there are twice as many here that adore you. I hope you continue to create amazing stories for years to come!

(also thank you to the other staff that contribute to MCSM - it couldn’t be done without you either)

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #minecraft storymode #eric stirpe #stirpicus #telltale games #ttg #mcsm season 2

130 notes · View notes

adriennescomingbacktolife · 4 years ago

Text

(IX)

“I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier.” Adrienne Levi leveled her gaze at Matt Knox, sitting up in his hospital bed. He slurped at a Jello cup, dislodging the gelatin and swallowing it whole. Crossing her arms over her chest, she let him finish. “Wasn’t sure what to say.” Knox rolled his tongue and the cherry gelatin prize down his gullet. He eyed Adrienne evenly, a smirk cracking his features before speaking in a dazed, sleepy tone. “Hello is a good start, I think.” At least he was still charming in his way, she thought. “Hi.” Adrienne did her best to hold back the waterworks. But that was before she watched the dumb match where these two nearly murdered each other, especially with what happened afterward. “Do you believe me now about him?” She asked with a mix of concern and slight irritation. Knox closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose. He took a moment before responding. “Would you be mad if I said I almost had him?” He said with a wry chuckle, “I always believed what you said, Ade. But you know me well enough now to know that giant, angry mental patients aren’t something I’ll shy away from fighting.” For the briefest moment, his gaze goes somewhere far off. To Zane’s wild eyes at the end of the match. To that horrid smell on his breath. The howls. “But yes, I believe you.” “...I talked to him last month, Matt. Like away from all of this.” Adrienne hadn’t told anyone about that strange conversation. Sometimes she wondered if it even happened. “He’s not okay. He seems sick. Like physically ill.” Matt’s face fell into a frown. His voice came flat, and not just because of the painkillers. “Physically, mentally,” he shook his head, “If Zane is that messed up, maybe he should be institutionalized. Someone like him, if there are that many underlying issues...hell, fuck underlying, just spend thirty seconds with him.” He wove a hand through the air, before chopping it as he made his point. “Zane King is going to kill someone. Maybe it’s not entirely his fault, but the longer people dance around and pretend it’s a non-issue? The bigger a risk, it becomes not just to the victim, but to Zane himself.” He paused, breathing in, before letting out a long exhale. “I have no love or understanding for Zane King. But, I have miles of it for mental illnesses. Hell, sometimes I see and talk to--” He stopped himself. “I’m just saying. He needs help, even if the help is being put out of commission.” Adrienne had a feeling that Zane welcomed threats like that every day. Pulling a seat closer, she sat next to Matt’s bed. “Maybe.” She said uncertainly. Her mind wandered to how this encounter only seemed to serve as a catalyst. Everyone seemed on edge, whether it was about this match with King or the other fires spreading as of late. Matt eyed her quietly, before reaching out a pale hand, knuckles swollen and bruised and grasping one of hers. “We never get any kind of breaks lately, huh, kid?” He asked in the kindest tone he could muster. “Between Silvio’s past coming to reap whatever was sewn, Mitch riding a bike between here and Detroit on no sleep, The Rat, Sebastian, and his fucking mouth.” He said, shaking his head. “At least it isn’t boring.” Adrienne’s hand relaxed in his. “No, it isn’t.” Knox squeezes her hand, before releasing it and settling into the bed. He looks around the room before setting upon the stuffed blackbird at his bedside. He reaches over and plucks it, showing it off to Ade. “Had someone drop this off while I was doped out of it last night. I think it was your new tag team partner.” Matt said with a cheese-eating grin, “You know, the one you replaced me with.” Adrienne feigned shock, “I didn’t make that decision.” Eyeing the bird, she smiled. “Besides, I think our mutual friend is trying every way possible to cause conflict. Especially after Stan was fired for cause. I guess carrying a list of my supposed daily routine is frowned upon.” “Fuck that guy.” Knox laughed, pausing to wince and favor his midsection. “And fuck Axton Gunn too. And well, almost everyone else if I’m honest.” A soft chuckle escaped as he eyed the drip. “Man, this stuff numbs everything but the tongue.” He sighed slowly, feeling and enjoying the warmth. “Yknow, Adrienne,” he has leaned back into his pillows a bit more, eyes lulling halfway, “you three. You, Mitch, Silvio. It’s like someone broke my reflection up into three pieces. Mitch, I remember bein’ that angry and protective because it was yesterday.” Another self-aware chuckle. “Silvio, well, he reminds me of all the ghosts.” And without a beat, he pointed a finger at Adrienne, “And you, It’s like an out of body experience, when I laid eyes on you. All the doubt and self doubt to boot, but then all the god damn grit to overcome.” A brief pause. Adrienne continued to let him roll. She was enjoying the company of a good friend. “Like my theme, you see.” After letting her soak in his pun, he continued, “You are currently enjoying … what, a five-win streak? You know that puts you only behind Silvio and Cortes, right? The tag champion, and future tag champion.” The cocktail seeping into his veins was clearly getting the better of him, but he adjusted and spoke clearly, “You’re better than good Ade. You’re great. Might be the best.” Adrienne responded with a polite smile. She let the Axton stuff slide. Too much to consider to get an argument about a celebrity and now a co-worker. One that she happened to think the best of. One she was struggling mightily with. Matt was someone special. Past that gruff exterior and tenacity to curse like a sailor, she saw a man finally reconciling with a past worth forgetting. It seemed to be a commonality. “I appreciate that, Matt. I’ve still got a long way before I could talk about myself like that. I’m not sure I ever could.” She didn’t intend to self-depreciate. Was a nasty habit. “But I do understand where you’re coming from. I’ll make an effort to think better of myself. I promise.” “You better, or I’ll take that Baltimore title from you. If you win it.” He snorted then, “Christ, I’m not watching that match. My best friend and my dragon...friend.” Matt furrowed his brow and shrugged before concluding, “You two are gonna tear the house down.” Adrienne acknowledged the compliment with a nod. However, his hesitation quirked her interest. She thought of something sarcastic to say. Maybe joke a little. But this was important, she could tell. Adrienne squeezed his hand and spoke low, “I’m happy for you, Matt. I really am.” “Yeah? Well, I mean, I don’t know what it is. Don’t wanna label anything or...” he trailed off. She nodded along, understanding that he would always be guarded considering the public spectacle his life has been made. “Guess it’s just nice, having a match to watch where I don’t hate someone. Not that I’m gonna watch.” Matt squeezed her hand back then, his voice lower now too, “You helped open me up to this sort of rot though, you know that, right? You dug me the rest of the way out of that hole Bert wouldn’t let me die in.” Listening intently, Adrienne felt the weight of his words. She never thought she had much of an impact on anyone. She tried her best, certainly but to hear something like this took her aback. “Learned that it was easier to put all that aggression into helping someone instead of hating everyone.” He snorted. “Christ. You’d think this was my death bed, and I was having ‘The Surge’ the way I’m goin’ on.” “The Rat has that effect.” She said with a knowing smile, followed by an immediate shame for letting that slip. Knox went to make a quip about bad breath when suddenly a knock on the door cut through the room. Standing at a proud five foot, seven in the doorway was a young, blonde, distressed looking woman of maybe eighteen. She wore an Imperial Youth Wrestling shirt and blue jeans. Matthew’s features went still a moment before a smile broke them up. “Hey, Hope,” he said with as much doped up cheer he could muster. Adrienne waved at Matt’s daughter that she had heard all about. But now wasn’t the time to chat. It was clear that Hope was being respectful, but that this was visit had a reason that didn’t involve her. “Matt, I’m going to leave you two be.” Standing up, Adrienne went to the doorway. “And after today, I could use a drink.” “I’ll be honest. I’m pretty shaken up about this one.” One of the newest contenders to the Baltimore City Championship, Adrienne Levi, was sitting at a corner table at the Angels Rock Bar. Located right in her new home city, she felt it would be an appropriate setting to talk about well, rock stars. It’d be a lie if she planned this. Adrienne just happened to be out mailing a letter when she saw a flyer for a free concert. Also, it was ladies’ night. Her little digital camera was placed on the table, framing the shot tight and level. Despite her surroundings’ dim lighting, it was clear she had on a black t-shirt on displaying Axton Gunn’s charming visage. Her elbows were on the table, hands steepled. Her eyes shimmered as she mulled over and contemplated her choice of words. “This is like my third take,” she admitted with her usual meek tone. “But I wanted to make sure to get this right. In less than a month, I have a great opportunity to represent this city. But that can’t be my focus.” Adrienne pivoted the camera slowly towards the stage. Stagehands were setting up for a concert. “Let’s set the stage.” When the shot reverted, her grin was apparent. “Get it, cuz like they’re setting … the … stage?” After the proverbial crickets sounding off in her mind, Adrienne continued, “Maybe I’ll just edit that part out.” In between her words, the ambiance of the bar took over. Clinking glasses, random conversations, and of course, the mechanical bull she made a concerted effort to ignore when first walking in. “One more stop before that huge century mark. Same partner. I know that I can trust her. I know that the fierce attitude that The Dragon Lady possesses will maybe lend a different perspective to this upcoming encounter. And they may be the very reason that she walks out champion instead of me. These aren’t things I can fret about right now. Our opposition seems to be of the same wavelength. I could understand why Sebastian Hawke would look up to someone like Axton Gunn. It would only be natural that these two eventually worked together. However, judging by all of our reactions, I doubt none of us expected this.” She gestured with her hands, following by a slightly exaggerated shrug. “But here we are,” she said with a smile, “Sebastian, I’m sorry I couldn’t find a shirt with you two on it. Maybe you’ll rectify that later for me. This isn’t just about your partner. I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk about you. I wish I had half the courage that you did. The ink wasn’t dry on your contract before you accepted the challenge of someone who personifies this company’s mission statement. That is ultraviolence. You stood toe to toe with Mitch Heart and earned a lot of people’s respect that evening.” Mitch Heart had intended to teach Sebastian a lesson in humility through brute force. And while Hawke succumbed to The Broken, it only seemed to harden his heart. It made Adrienne wonder if that approach has been common to someone like this young man. “May we talk about what else happened? I think its rather important. To be dismissed, to be infantilized, to be marginalized - it hurts. I wanted to thank you for your advice the other day. I know that you meant well. Maybe those sorts of ideals worked for you in the past even. But that isn’t who I am. Here’s what bothered me just a little, Sebastian. I think you were just angry, and that’s okay. But you tried to hold me accountable for the actions of my friends. Maybe Matt Knox can be a little caustic. And Silvio and Kohaku are quick to speak their minds. And well, you met Mitch personally. I get it. I may have held Steve Matthews’ feet to the fire for his half-hearted denouncement of Alex Winter, and so maybe you think I’m a hypocrite.” Pausing, she took a sip of the ice water the server brought her earlier. The cubes were already melting, and she could maybe go for something harder. But Adrienne had promised herself not to drink on camera anymore as it set a poor example. “It’s a little different than a friend coming to my defense when you chose to be abrasive, don’t you think? However, I admonished my friend because I don’t think you had done anything particularly wrong. You were just asking questions, right? Or is that you’re confused that I could associate from people so different than me? It just requires a little empathy, Sebastian. Either way, everything washed out in the end. For you, this is an opportunity to hit the reset button on your debut. Maybe muddy the waters of the Baltimore City Championship scene by getting a definitive victory over the current contenders. However, if you wanted to, you could ask your partner about his motives sometime.” Adrienne slid her business phone into view. Having previously set this up, a brief audio snippet played for all to hear. ”...so glad to see you made so many new friends without me, Silvio. Can’t wait to introduce myself to ‘em… one by one.” That was Axton Gunn just mere moments after he drove Silvio Leon’s skull into the mat. Notably, after a feigned motion to reconcile. Adrienne’s expression was mired with conflict. Hesitation marked her words. “Axton, I know you may hear this a lot. But I’m your number one fan. Your music has always been a beacon of light in the darker periods of my life. That’s a little dramatic, huh? Your take-no-prisoners attitude is something I wish I could emulate every day. You just say what you want, consequences be--” Adrienne cut herself off. “You know what I mean. Axton, simply put, you’re one of the coolest people ever. And as evidenced by your debut against Kohaku, you bring all of those intangible rockstar qualities to the ring as well. Not only that, but you’ve also given so much back. You use your influence to help those who are less fortunate. And if you would forgive me for this little weakness, Axton, you’re striking to look at. Your eyes are mesmerizing. Your smile makes me melt.” She said with a reverence like the many times she had rehearsed in the mirror if she ever had the chance to meet him. Well, before this. “You are just perfect.” The clip played again - a startling interruption to her star worship. “But, you’re not.” Adrienne’s words hung in the air. She did her best to revert to a neutral tone. Maybe even stoic if her soft eyes didn’t always happen to betray those attempts. “You said as much. That makes me foolish to place you so high. It was wrong of me almost to deify you. I deprived you of your right just to be human. I would hope that you would extend that same courtesy towards my imperfect friends.” Habitually, she wiped away at her eyes. “I’d like to reintroduce myself. I’m Adrienne, and in just over a week, we’ll be opponents. Nobody will remember my name like yours, but in that ring, we are equals. I don’t want to brag, but I’ve worked hard, and I’ve done well for myself. I appreciate the kind words you’ve shared about me. I really wanted to say something prior, but well, you’re a star, and I’m just me. I’m okay with that. For the first time in a long while, I think maybe I like the person I see in the mirror. One of the reasons I’ve been able to do that is because I’ve promised to be honest. I can’t break that promise for you, Axton, I’m sorry.” Leaning forward, Adrienne stared intently into the camera. She spoke in a calm voice as if she was truly speaking to an audience of one. “Your first appearance in Carnage Wrestling wasn’t as Axton Gunn, the award-winning rockstar. It was as someone who had traveled across to the country to confront someone that had hurt you. Let’s take that at face value. You’ve always been truthful in your art. So I believe you. You laid everything on the table, and I think you and Silvio have a lot to talk about.” She said this with utmost sincerity. Adrienne’s gaze to Axton faltered as she continued, “And then I saw Axton Gunn as I’ve never seen him before. Not that I know you or anything. I’m just basing this on what you’ve allowed me to see. You struck Silvio.” Her fingers tapped on the table lightly as she looked away for the brief moment, all of this accompanied by a small sniffle. “You know, in this industry, a lot of issues get resolved through violence. There’s a distinct difference in what you chose to do and what happens within the confines of a match. Sometimes it even seems a little preformative. Silvio hurt you. So you decided to hurt him. This sort of thing happens every show. Could even get desensitized to it.” Whether she meant to or not, Adrienne’s hand went to the side of her face. “I always blamed myself when this sort of thing happened. There was something that I did to deserve a lesson. I needed to understand the hurt that I caused. Sometimes I’d get confused, and I wouldn’t learn fast enough. But, suffering creates clarity.” Her demeanor softened once she affixed her gaze towards the lenses of the camera. “I don’t think that is you at all, Axton. I can’t speak to whether that was premeditated or not. You’re one of the smartest people around, so when you speak, maybe I misunderstood what you meant.” For a third time, the statement from Axton played. “You met Kohaku last show. He may have pinned you in that ring, but you planted that seed. You sowed that doubt on the type of person Silvio is. You admitted what you did wasn’t enough. Silvio hadn’t learned his lesson. As you watch this, Axton, ask yourself a small question. You ever wonder how Kohaku feels about all of this?” Adrienne couldn’t confess to know about the inner workings of Starfox. However, their affections had been public, so no wonder Axton found out how he did. “None of this. None of this would be my business, except you made it my business. I’m next, Axton. I’m your number one fan, and I love everything you do. I expect you to be on your best behavior. I expect you to be the Axton Gunn that I’ve maybe had dreams about. But Axton, I can’t play the part you want me to. I can’t feed into this campaign you have against Silvio Leon. You will need to handle these things in private, and you need to be held accountable for how you chose to react to Silvio’s decision to leave you. All of this can be done without any more lessons.” Sitting up straight, Adrienne’s voice climbed to one of determined resolve. “Axton, I hope you understand how difficult this was. When that bell rings, you face a team that has been battle-tested under precarious circumstances, with the mutual understanding that eventually, we’d have to compete with one another for just one prize. The Dragon Lady will speak for herself some other time, but I can say in the brief time that I’ve known her, she’s the bravest woman I know. And well, when you lock up with me, Axton, I won’t be your number one fan. I will be the woman who stood up to the rampant misogyny that still permeates this industry. I helped quell back those who would corrupt the innocence of this world.” Adrienne’s eyes sparked if that were even possible, and she spoke with the fervor of someone who truly believed what she was saying. “In the face of low expectations, I’ve climbed through the wreckage of one of the most devastating nights of my career, and I’ve thrived. One day, I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I’m going to be remembered, too. I hope that I haven’t made Sebastian or you angry with me, Axton. I just wanted to let you know where I stand. I’m going to fight you, removed from whatever your plans are, and if I have the opportunity to beat you?” Letting that question linger, she answered it herself. “I won’t hesitate.” Reaching forward, Adrienne went to turn the camera off. Inadvertently, her elbow knocked the plastic tumbler over and spilled water all over the table and her shirt and lap. “Darn it, not aga-” The feed cut. Adrienne let the bubble mailer slip from her hand into the open hatch of the USPS mailbox. Addressed to one Sylvia Gould.

0 notes