#cause I’m so polite and nice on insta and on here I’m just like fuck this shit you’re getting mediocre shitty ‘art work’

[riddikulus394]

Here … art ………

Well go on take it I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

Finally using this hellsite to not find fanfics and I’m actually posting my own stuff 🫣

But don’t expect any good quality masterpieces

All you’re getting from me is fandom ships, fanart, and comic strips 🙄

[ketamineharry]

I Love Me - Harry Lewis

Requested - Yes ~ can I request an ethan/Harry one where the reader is curvy (bigger boobs/bum/hips etc) compared to Talia + Freya and the other girlfriends and they are on holiday with everyone and the reader feels a bit insecure and scared of what everyone will think when they look at photos, have photo shoots and insta comments, love you and your writing!! 🤍

Trigger Warnings: Body image issues, self-confidence issues

Authors Note: This was originally requested as a holiday, but I changed it slightly as my most recent imagine was a holiday themed one. I hope you don’t mind!

As you entered the restaurant, an uneasy feeling took over you. Usually, being seen out in public with your friends, and your boyfriend Harry wouldn’t phase you — but over lockdown, you had put on a few pounds. Expressing your emotions in a healthy way, had never been your forte so when the lockdown restrictions hit, instead of going to the local pub to drink your sorrows away, with a group of friends you had turned to eating. Comfort eating had become the norm whenever you felt sad, lonely, happy, or to put it more accurately whenever you felt anything.

While you had been piling on the pounds, Talia and Freya, had been keeping to a strict fitness regime. So naturally, they looked incredible. While you just felt deflated. To make matters worse, this was a Sidemen dinner, meaning that not only were there going to be pictures, but eyes were going to be firmly on your table.

Instinctively, as you walked you grabbed for Harry’s hand. Thankfully, he was slightly in front of you, so you could hide yourself behind his broad frame. As soon as your fingers entwined, you found a sense of serenity; despite how short lived that may have been.

As the others crowded around the table, trying to figure out seating arrangements, you focussed your energy in trying to remain calm. All you wanted was to have a seat on the outskirts, so that you wouldn’t have to participate in the group Instagram photos. The self-loathing from the way you looked in this moment was enough to fuel your insecurities for a good few months, you certainly didn’t need the constant reminder on Instagram too.

Luckily, you managed to secure the seat you wanted. Josh, being the father of the group dictated where everyone else was going to sit. Usually, there was a rule of thumb that you sat in couples; but you had ended up sitting in between JJ and Freya. Harry was on the opposite side of the table, his phone in one hand, completely engrossed in an app, knowing him it was most likely Twitter. However, in this seating arrangement you felt sick. Your one lifeline, although not ridiculously far from you, had been cut off. You were going to have to brave this one out.

The waiter approached the table and introduced themselves. He had a cheery disposition until they made eye contact with you, their fake customer service smile fading as he served you his best judgemental glare. It lasted a split second, but you knew what it meant. The feeling of being out of your depth was confirmed in that look, it wasn’t just you that felt it, it was felt by those looking in on this dynamic of people. Why would they want to associate themselves with you?

“And for the lady?” He asked, glancing over at you again. His demeanour changed once more. You remained silent for a moment, mulling over whether to ask for what you actually wanted or order something that you didn’t want to avoid more disapproving glares.

“May I suggest the chicken caesar salad.” He adds, knocking you out of your stream of consciousness.

“That would be lovely thank you.” You respond. The last thing that you wanted was to cause a scene. In fact, the thing you wanted most was to be ignored, unseen. It was blatantly obvious what everyone was thinking, where their stares ended up… all on you.

The plates of food started to arrive, being placed before everyone. You looked around, envious. Their food all looked insanely good, Talia had mac and cheese while Freya had a vegetarian lasagne. To say that you were covetous, as you chowed down on some lettuce, was an understatement. Just some flavour would have been nice.

The same waiter came back to see if anyone wanted any desserts, Harry ordered a chocolate cake with some whipped cream and Freya ordered a cheesecake, Ethan wanted a coffee, the others weren’t really bothered though. What was made apparent, was that you weren’t even asked by the waiter.

Freya turned to you, a sympathetic look on her face. “Are you ok?” She asked, as she placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled unconvincingly, certain that Freya could pick up on how you were feeling. She had been sitting next to you the entire time after all.

“Let’s go to the ladies yeah? I’ll just text Josh to let him know what’s going on.” She said, as she retrieved her phone from her bag. She quickly sent the text before she grabbed your hand and directed you to the bathroom.

Freya held the door open for you, as you both walked inside, she went over to the sinks and climbed up on top of them. Crossing her arms. Inspecting you slightly.

“So, spill… what’s wrong with ya?” She questioned, with a small reassuring smile.

You took a deep breath in and out, as you tried to steady yourself. As much as you loved Freya, talking about your feelings to anyone was a challenge that you faced daily. It was hard enough being open with Harry about your feelings, and he was the person that you trusted most. Never mind one of your closest friends.

“I hate the way I look.” You confessed, as you subconsciously started to tug at the dress you were wearing. It all of a sudden felt too tight, too claustrophobic, as if the material had shrunk from the time it took you to walk from your table into the bathroom.

“You and Talia, you are both gorgeous and slim. I’m not that way at all. You can wear whatever you want and look good. If I so much as looked at a belly top, people would be disgusted.”

Freya remained silent, letting you ramble on about how much you hated your body and what you looked like. How out of place you felt and what you wish you could change about yourself. When you were finally finished, she jumped down off of the counter and engulfed you in a hug.

“Don’t you ever, ever feel like you aren’t good enough. You are the funniest person I have ever met. You make me belly laugh every single day. You spread so much positivity, and you make sure that everyone around you feels loved. I am slim, but do you know what… I’d kill for a rack like yours.” She whispered, as she comforted you.

“As for that asshole waiter who has been making you feel like shit all night, don’t think that no-one else has noticed it, because they have. They’re all too polite to embarrass him in public, but trust me, he’ll get his comeuppance. Now, wipe those tears and let’s go show him what a fucking bad ass bitch you are.” She laughed, as she grabbed your hand once again, as she led you back out to the table.

The bill was laid out on the table, the seven cards were placed on top of it as you rejoined the group.

“Here she is.” Harry beamed, as he reached out for you. You went and gave him a hug, before taking your seat again.

As the waiter collected the bill, Harry called him over. “I’d like to give you a cash tip, can you follow me outside so I can draw the cash out?” He asked. The waiter nodded, a gleam in his eye. Harry gave you a gesture, letting you know to follow him.

Once you were outside, how cold it was finally hit you. It made you recoil into yourself.

“Yeah, the tip I wanted to give you was to never, and I mean never try to ridicule my girlfriend about anything.” Harry said, swiftly connecting his right fist to the waiters cheek.

“Run.” He shouted, as he grabbed your hand, your feet pounding on the floor until you reached the car. You were both panting, leaning on each other for support.

“You do know you’re still a ten out of ten to me. No matter what.” Harry smiled, as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. “Now let’s go and get a McDonalds, because I know you’re still hungry and it’s your favourite.”

[calypsoff]

Ninety Three. Part 3

That talk with Mel is something I needed, I needed to speak to someone that knows Robyn as much as they do. Mel is relying on me to bring her back, I mean I feel I can do it but then again I feel like Robyn is very much adamant in telling me to fuck off, several times too. Mel said I need to be on her level, I can’t be trying to tell her she can’t do something when she is like this. I really wish Robyn told me this, told me how she is feeling so I could help her get through it. I think Robyn felt alone, like you can have a room full of people but still feel alone and I think she felt that because I was being an idiot. I wasn’t thinking straight, I never do but that video of Robyn. I need to look at it actually, I just had a shower and got some clothes on. I am praying and hoping she is where I think she will be, I am assuming she will be in the casino and if she is with other men, I need to not bite because she is going to do everything in her power to make me get annoyed. TMZ loaded up and the first thing I see is Robyn, they are are saying she attacked me, and I don’t like that because it was never that, my wife isn’t violent. Tapping on the article, this is very much defamation of name because that is not it. Tapping on the video and waited for it to load, I am not happy that this is happening. She doesn’t deserve this; she isn’t a bad person. Watching the video and seeing that she did hit my shoulder or whatever, but she was angry that I said her dad and it kind of works out, it’s bullshit. I don’t want to tell her that this was said. She doesn’t need it, but I need to stay by my wife, she means the world to me. I have let her down, I have always known she was vulnerable when it comes to men in general and her dad, it’s crazy how much it’s affected her.

Sitting atop of the pool table, I want to address the situation because it seems like in the article it states that she was with other men, looks like I was jealous of that and we argued, that didn’t happen. It’s crazy to see what they put but I want to shut down these rumours, it’s spreading thanks to that toxic ass page. Pressing record on my phone, fixing my Snapback “what’s up, I don’t like to get involved in these kind of scenarios or politics to do with things that go on, my life or whatever but I don’t. It’s come up on that wack ass blog TMZ a video of me and my wife, lies are being told. We were talking and she did hit my arm or whatever, but it was playful, she was a little tipsy whatever. But it’s all lies, we are good in our marriage. My daughter is just better, and we don’t need to see that kind of shit, or those rumours being said, we come to Vegas to have fun. Our marriage is fine, we are good. God bless that my daughter is good so yeah, I just want to address that we are fine and that my wife isn’t the vicious person y’all making her out to be, I was fully aware she was speaking to men so there was no issues or arguments about that” shaking my head “we good over here” stopping the recording and adding it onto Instagram, adding a caption ‘y’all need to leave me and mines, I don’t fuck with the shit y’all be saying’ pressing send on the post, I will protect my wife on god, I will fuck up anyone for her, that’s my girl. Now I need to find that wife of mine, I want to call her but then I don’t think she will pick up because of my name being shown, if I don’t find her I’m gonna be panicking. I am worried for her, she is drinking and smoking so much too, like smoking excessively. I need to do this, I need to control my mouth and be there for her, she needs me, and I wasn’t even seeing it.

I put on a shirt and made my way down to reception, I need to know where my wife is and they will know, obviously they will. They see everything and they knew she was here earlier, I huffed out making my way to the reception. The lady looked at me and she was going to say hi, but I just cut her off “my wife, Rihanna? Where is she?” I sound abrupt but I am not the mood for all the nice talk, I just need to see my wife and see how she is “I can show you” why is it everyone knows where she is, is my wife making that much of an issue, this is concerning to know actually “right this way sir” walking behind her, she seems so kind about it but I am wondering if Robyn is causing a scene “is everything ok?” I have to ask; I am nervous. Robyn is so sly and is running off constantly, she isn’t just nobody either “not at all, just she was getting harassed by a barrage of people and we had to bring in extra security but please, it’s not bother” oh god, I am nervous now. Walking into the casino I can see where she is, the group is gathered and it’s not a show. I just need to not kick off either, I get very protective of my wife too “that way sir” she gestured, nodding my head walking off towards the crowd. She is on the slots machine and is being stared at by people, I dislike that because she doesn’t need all eyes on her either. Looking around and seeing phones out “watch out!” I spat, people started to move to the side and then recording me “don’t push sir” I will knock this nigga out, he better let me through right now before I cause a scene in this place, I do not care for anyone “let him though, that’s Chris” another security guy came forward, he let an oh “sorry” he let me through, nodding my head walking by him. Robyn clapped her hands together “I won again” Robyn looked at me, she is wearing my snapback “I can see” moving the snapback back a little, kissing her forehead “I can see you are winning, as you do” pulling the snapback down, looking around us, there is so many cameras around us, they have literally blocked off the whole section because of Robyn, she really doesn’t care, she is staying here and having fun “what you doing” Robyn is searching my pockets, then she dug her hand in my pocket “these” she grabbed my cigarettes “ok” I mumbled, my phone started ringing in my pocket “you good yeah?” I asked, Robyn nodded her head smiling at me. Looking down at my phone, Robyn wrapped her arm around my torso “what’s up?” I asked, it’s Mel “she is in the casino, they are tagging her on Insta” Mel is spying from afar “yeah I am here with her now, thanks. I will update soon” I don’t know what to do, there is so many people here. So many prying eyes too.

Robyn is playing Crabs, I say play she is trying her best and the whole crowd is cheering but I am so protective of her, I am just thinking on what to do. She hasn’t said much to me at all “I done good?” Robyn asked, nodding my head “always” nuzzling the top of her head, licking my lips looking around. I just hate this, it’s so compact like everyone is just here and I feel judged. I feel our marriage is being judged; I hate this. I want this to just stop but I can’t make it stop, I need to take action. I am so protective of Robyn, I feel like she is vulnerable, and I didn’t see it at first but I do now, she is so vulnerable “Rihanna, you good at playing Crabs” someone shouted, I smiled looking over at the person “I am good at a lot” Robyn said, her voice is husky as hell, all that smoking is getting to her “what that mouth do?” my eyebrows knitted together, looking at whoever said that “ask my husband, I just sucked him off in the penthouse suite” I had to do a doubletake at Robyn, the whole crowd just busted out laughing “don’t be speaking on my mouth nigga, go ask ya father” Robyn added “don’t come for me nigga, don’t do it!” everyone cheered, Robyn is being called volatile and she is being recorded shouting this, I just feel stuck on what to do “shall we go to the suite?” I said in her ear “you can get me a blunt, make me one” she turned to me, taking in a deep breath and then sighed out.

Robyn turned away from the Crabs table with the blunt in hand and her cocktail “I want to go now” when she moved the whole crowd moved with her “where you going?” moving back from the Crabs table “let’s go to the club” licking my top lip “erm” I paused, I don’t even know what to say. Nodding my head and leaning down to Robyn hugging her “how about we go to the suite, you can do your hair and stuff. Look all cute for the club” pressing a kiss to her cheek moving back, Robyn nodded her head too “you right, ok let’s go then” following behind Robyn, we can finally go to the bedroom and just talk, I don’t know how to even bring the questions up about everything. I caught some arm that reached forward trying to grab Robyn’ shoulder “the hell” pushing it away, the security is rushing us out and I just moved to the side of Robyn. She is so calm about everything; she doesn’t even care that we are getting mobbed. She doesn’t even know what is being said about her, I am here trying to save her. I just want to protect my girl, she is going through a lot and I want her to be happy, I think I haven’t helped with her at all. I am so bad, I am a bad husband to her, but she needs me to be there for her, I can only love her.

We got to the bedroom and Robyn went straight to the room, she wants to get dressed for the club. The club I don’t really want to go too, I don’t even know where to start at all. Answering the call from Mel, she has been so supportive right now. She has been ringing to check “hey” I answered “just thought I would ask how you are? You seem very nervous about this; you seem a little scared. Robyn is just closed off Chris, don’t mind her. She will break that mask; I just know her” she is so confident “can you come?” I don’t know “no, you need to be the one to do it. She do what you need to do, anyways. I got Rylee actually, she is doing so well. I am so glad to see her in high spirits” I miss her so much “thanks for checking on me, I just feel so stuck. Robyn hasn’t really let go of Rihanna; I can tell. I will go upstairs and see to her, thanks” disconnecting the call, I appreciate Mel for this. I understand what she means by she wants me to do it but I just feel like she would do a better job, I do feel bad because I know that Robyn be there for me to build me up so can’t I do this for her, how useless am I to even think someone else should do this. I don’t mean it in a bad way but it’s hard, I don’t know how to approach the situation.

Walking into the room and all I can hear is Robyn’ phone going off, like it’s been none stop but all she is doing is getting ready. She is really ignoring everything “you good?” I asked what I asked before, I can’t help but say the same thing “are you? I was the one that left you in bed” she sniggered, knowing full well what she did but I won’t make it an issue “erm yeah I am” the phone started ringing again, making my way to the phone, looking down and seeing Jay Brown name. Rejecting the call, picking the phone off to turn it off “I am fine, it’s been a while you know” the phone switched off, placing it down “you remember that time when my dad took us to go and watch Space Jam?” Robyn looked up at me “I do, why?” she is miserable “it just made me laugh because erm, that time I wanted to sit with you, and you ended up letting my dad sit in the middle? Like what, but the bonus of it all is that my dad paid but then you were sick after the hot dog” Robyn groaned out “oh yeah, that was bad” she nodded her head and froze “and your dad was holding my hair back, yeah. He is so sweet to me” she agreed “yeah he was, I’ve always wanted to be like him. Like my dad, just a good man. But I don’t think I actually am, I think I am not the person he bought up, you know. You said I am just like your dad, and at first I was so caught up on it thinking it was a bad thing but me and your dad have something in common. We both hurt you and let you do, and I apologise for that. I do a lot without thinking and what I did and how I have been acting was bad, I will forever be sorry for that” putting my head down “men are trash” I expected that “I don’t blame you for that Robyn” looking up at her “you say we should talk; I enjoy our talks. At night” stuffing my hands in my pockets “talking to me about me, asking me how I am, asking me what I am doing, telling me what I need to do. You have asked me how I am, how I am doing. I have my own issues and you have been there for me to console me but I haven’t thought of you, I can’t say I understand how that feels, to be abandoned by a parent” Robyn doesn’t like it “I don’t want to hear it” she got up from the seat “but I do, I am not Monica where I will say you know what your dad should be like, I want to hear you Robyn. What happened to Rylee was never your fault, I know these words won’t heal you, but it wasn’t” she stared at me “Rylee needs you” I said in a whisper “the same girl that sleeps only when you sing to her, I bet she is wondering where her mommy is, you know she is because her eyes light up seeing you, she needs you more then me Robyn, I know that. Rylee adores you” Robyn put her head down, she was quick to run to the bathroom, maybe I can keep pushing her to break and she will talk to me.

[iwillgoon]

Table 4

Chapter two Get out

Paring - Negan x black!reader

Summary - Reader deals with the repercussions of the guys staying late at the diner.

Warnings - Negan being an a-hole, thoughts of racism, broken glass

Word count : 3236

Note: Thank you, to anyone who took the time out of their day to read my story. ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After sanitizing the tables, and chairs you sweep the floors; even taking the time to wipe down the table tents. Looking over your left shoulder you let out a frustrated sigh, it’s been 5 hours, and they have yet to leave. Getting the green light to close up early from your manager due to the decrease of customers in the diner, leaving only the group of guys at table 4. Who were still sitting there socializing like a group of frat boys. You didn’t like to rush customers to leave, but it’s been 5 hours. Even after your passive-aggressive approach of nonverbal cues to get them to leave wiping the table, sweeping and mopping other areas, removing the paid check. And you were fucking tired, especially since you have class tomorrow, and you couldn’t leave until they leave. Fuck this. You thought standing up from your seat deciding to give them a piece of your mind, trying to get home quickly.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, I’m sorry to tell you we are closing but there are a few places nearby open late if you want to continue the conversation.” You snarled, expression hardening a deep line appearing between your eyebrows. The convo between the three men stopped instantly at your interruption leaving Dwight, and Mustache in utter shock robbing them of speech, not expecting you to get so hostile. Except Negan, smirking at you as though he knew it was going to occur.

Spotting a grin that grew wider by the second. The corners of his mouth quirked up, “Well correct me if I’m wrong sweetheart, but if a fucking restaurant let you in the door then they must fucking provide service up until you feel goddamn ready to leave.”

Damn you did not expect for him to go off like that, he really caught you off guard. Feeling your heart rate climb a bit, swallowing hard quickly regaining your composure shooting him a frown, “ Sorry to disappoint you but, that’s not the policy here. You eat until we close.”

His eyes lighten up in amusement as if I was a dog taking the bait. He turned towards Dwight throwing a playful punch on his shoulder . “God damn, Dwight where have you been keeping this one.” Turnings his gaze back on you with a radiance in his eyes. “Well sweetheart, I don’t see any signs stating this. Also it looks like this dump could use the money so….”

A helpless anger simmered in you, hands squeezing into fist. “you fucking-“

“Hey, calm down y/n, it’s fine let me just take a piss, and we’ll be out of your hair okay.” Dwight persisted, stopping you both before things got more heated up. Raising is hands in surrender, trying to reassure you that was his only motive.

Letting out an angry breath, you nodded staring into his blue eyes, “Fine, bathroom then you all leave. Okay?”

Rising up from his seat Dwight drags himself to the bathroom leaving you with the two strangers, an awkward silence taking over the room. The man with the impressive Mustache stands up from his chair stepping towards you. He extends his hand towards you in greeting, offering a handshake. You obliged, hesitating for just a second, afraid to make actual contact with him. Eventually he broke the tension in the room, “Well excuse my rudeness, I don’t actually think I’ve properly introduced myself I’m Simon. I sincerely apologize on behalf of my friend. He's not always this off-putting.”

Pulling your hand back from his firm handshake, head bowing towards him glazing at the floor avoiding any, and all eye contact with the stranger. You shrugged, taking a sharp breath. “Um, it’s fine. been through worse.”

“Well, how about you come and sit over here with us while we wait for D over there.” Simon replied pointing to the table, strolling back to his seat pulling out a chair for you.

You politely declined his invitation trying to avoid any close range contact with Negan, not liking the lack of control over your emotions. But of course, he probably knew of your lack of composure when it came to him. Leaning back against his chair a faint tremor of amusement was on his lips, “Oh come on, he ordered the btl, and it always goes right through him. He’s gonna be a while.”

Treading slowly towards the empty chair surrendering to Negan's one single order. You really didn't have the foggiest idea what came over you, possibly it was the tiredness crawling up on you, or was this your rabbit hole that you could fall into. Whatever it was, certainly excited you as much as you prefer not to concede. Despite the fact that your gut was cautioning you not to go for somebody like him, obviously, you'd disregard it, you generally do. Negan's eyes lit up in excitement, gripping the arm of his chair, as he loomed closer, “So, how do you know our dear Dwighty. I simply Can’t believe that we have been running in the same circle, and I haven’t come across you.”

“He used to date my best friend, that's all, I barely know him.” You muttered, shoulders lifting in a half shrug. Truthfully you only met the guy three times, and you were even surprised that he remembered your name.

“Wait, so you telling me Dwighty boy knew a cute girl like you and didn’t think to set me up.” Negan exclaimed, staring at you in disbelief and you nodded in return. His compliment taking away your ability to form any speech. “I need to have a nice talk with his scrawny ass.”

You nodded mutely, yielding to the awkward mood of the night. Picking at the lint on your apron, choosing to be done with the conversation. What is taking him so long? You thought, deciding now would be a good time to check on sherry since she’s still in the kitchen doing some inventory. Just as you were about to get up a loud scream emerged from the kitchen releasing a surge of alertness through your body. Jolting your head towards the commotion. Wasting no time, leaping from your seat, upending the table, running towards the shouting, and hollering.

“Leave me the fuck alone! Didn’t you humiliate me enough D!”, Sherry yelled, shakily holding onto a piece of broken glass, pointing it towards her intruder defensively. Your eyes widened in shock at the scene unfolding in front of you, there were pieces of fine china scattered all over the floor. What the actual fuck? Dwight spotted a fearful look, his hair disheveled, breathing even but shallow. “But no you just had to come back to rub more salt in the womb? Huh!”

Raising his hands in a pleading manner, his head jerked in frantic disagreement, “You know that’s not true baby, I’m sorry for lying to you about them but I told them about you and how I’m not their little robot anymore. I swear you can even call Tracie she was there the whole time, babe I fucking swear.”

“Fuck Tracie, and fuck you. We are done, Dwight. I want you out of my life for good, now get the fuck out!” Sherry demanded, a bitterness creeping into her face. Walking closer to Dwight with the piece of broken glass now raised towards his face.

“Sherry, put that down! Are you crazy” you intervened, trying to knock some sense into your best friend. You know she was hurt, but this wasn’t the right way to go about it. However, you knew Sherry, and that she wouldn't calm down not until he was gone. “Please just leave. Haven’t you done enough? You’ve caused enough damage as it is.”

“Let’s go D, she’s not even fucking worth it.” Negan spat, pushing Dwight out of the kitchen despite his ongoing protest. Simon follows after them, throwing you an apologetic look on his way out.

Sherry tried to hold back the seething tower of tears that had been building up since the moment she had been angered. It was painful to see her like this, but all you could do was embrace her and let the torrent of her tears soak through your shirt.

—

“I miss the kids too, but I’ve just been really busy. You know with midterms coming up, and my hours at the diner. I don’t know.”, You revealed, strolling into your apartment, throwing your keys into a bowl by the door phone pressed between your shoulder and left ear. After avoiding your sister’s calls for a week, you’ve finally surrendered. After feeling guilty after reading her lengthy Instagram post about how much she misses you. “Tomorrow? Um, I don’t know Michonne, that’s my day off. And you guys live very far, and I am too fucking tired for that.”

“Stop being so dramatic, We’re only forty minutes away, and you could even spend the night. Just pack some clothes and I’ll just drive you to class, yeah?” Michonne demanded, on the other line. Slumping on the love seat, releasing a baffled moan, the idea of not having the option to have the day off picking at you. You really cherished visiting your sister, and her kids however Sundays were the days you looked forward towards. Staying in bed throughout the day, not associating with individuals was a basic need for you.

“Fine, I’ll come. Now can you stop those sappy insta posts about me. It's cringey, and kinda creepy.” You teased, getting up from the couch strolling into the kitchen attempting to discover a snack to tend your snarling stomach. Looking through every cabinet, eventually giving up your search nothing grabbing your attention. Inclining toward the island as Michonne continues to talk your ear off about how she wasn’t trying to guilt trip you. “I’m gonna let you go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you, bye.”

Finally ending your phone call, feeling defeated from the conversation. I guess it would be to see the kids. A lighter feeling taking over your aura as you conjure up the pros about giving up your antisocial day.

“Hey, when did you get back.” Sherry questioned, leaning against the doorway a smile planted on her face. Gazing upward in shock, Narrowing your eyes at her, the total 360 of her state of mind changes worrying you. After comforting a sobbing Sherry once the group of men left. She clarified what had happened the previous evening saying how Dwight arranged the entire thing to win her back by appearing at the diner. Even asking his friends to come with him for moral support and how he faked needing to utilize the washroom rather heading out to discover her. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry about that, I was on the phone with Michonne. You know how it is.” You apologized, knowing how scared she gets when she’s home alone. Sherry waved it off with a considerably greater grin presently laying all over, head inclined towards you attempting to get you to ask her what she was so glad about. Knowing her, it's most probable about Dwight, you thought shaking your head. “Just come out with it Sher....”

“Okay, but before you say anything just know that I am truly happy and this time is different. I -I can feel it, I swear.” Sherry ramble, towards you giving your hand a tight squeeze. You nodded encouraging her to go on with her announcement. “I couldn’t go to sleep last night you know after everything at the diner. I just kept tossing and turning because of the burning question in my head. Like is he telling the truth? Did he truly face his folks? So I said too hell with this, I’m calling tracie, and I…..I believe him. ugh say something.”

Nodding slowly, eyebrows furrowed trying to make sense of the situation. Dwight was a good guy, but the way Sherry reacted to him last night was very alarming to you. “I don’t know sher, just a few hours ago you thought your whole world was over because of him, and-

“But it’s not like that, we are taking things slow. We’re starting over, a fresh new start, it’s different this time. Please just be happy for me. I can’t give up on us, and I need my best friend to support me.” Sherry interrupted, crossing her arms, eyes narrowed at you. She was never good at listening, or taking the truth especially when it came to her relationships.

“You know I have always supported you sher, but I just want you to be careful. Okay?” You advised, knowing that she wouldn’t take your guidance no matter what. Sherry guaranteed that she will, and how she had one more thing to report. She proceeds to explain how Dwight actually invited her to his family Gala to prove to her that he wasn't lying. And how she needed you there for backup just in case things turned left.

“So I need you to be my plus one. I promise I’ll be by your side the whole night .” Sherry asked, giving you puppy dog eyes. Pulling your arm towards her heart.

“Ugh, why me? You know I hate parties with privileged people who thinks complimenting the black girl on talking properly is a good thing .” You signed, snatching your hand back. It was true though, every time you go to parties with a predominately white crowd it was always the same damn thing. Them talking to you like you grew up in a wooden hut, reminding you how they voted for Obama like it’s a personality trait, and hearing their backhanded compliments about how proper you talk.

“That’s not true.” Sherry disagreed, throwing you a frown. You rolled your eyes at her, shaking your head at her. How would you know?

“You can’t speak on experiences you don’t go through. we’ve talked about this sher.” You stated, staring into her guilty eyes. She quickly agreed, apologizing for her ignorance.

Eventually In the long run she persuades you to go to the function saying how there will be heaps of food, and she'll clean for seven days. Who could disapprove of that? Without a doubt not you. “Okay, fine I’ll go now leave me the fuck alone.”

—

Arriving at the gala you were in awe at the sight inside the building. Wall-to-wall marble floors, limestone columns, soaring vaulted ceilings and intricate ironwork decorate the interiors of the ballroom. Is this what the met gala looks like from the inside you wonder, staring up at the eclectic chandeliers, unique furnishings, and bistro lighting. Sherry was instantly pulled away from you at your arrival, promising you she’ll be back in a minute. Well it’s been an hour, and you were pissed not just in light of the fact that she disregarded you knowing how you feel about being in sceneries like this, but because the food was shit. And you were hungry. Returning from the bathroom after sitting there for 20 minutes trying to kill time, and avoid any socializing. Currently sitting at the bar trying playing an intense game on your phone.

“Are you fucking following me? You could’ve just asked me out instead, love when a woman takes charge.” a voice teased, behind your head making your body convulse in a sudden jolt. Looking up from your phone turning around in your chair, frowning at the twit who startled you. Negan? Well yeah he’s friends with Dwight idiot. He looked fine as hell though wearing a tuxedo like the entirety of different guys in participation, however his appeared as though it was made explicitly for him, custom-made better than anybody else's. His hair was slicked back with a gel. Smirk sitting on his face at your distaste at seeing him again. That didn’t stop his eyes from roaming your figure. Biting his lips satisfied with his sights. “Holy shit, you look fucking gorgeous.”

‘And you look fucking beautiful,' your demons were nearly commending the man before you, a supposition you shared;

“Thanks.” You uttered, gazing towards the ground. His presence leaving a burning sensation on your skin.

“Listen, what happened last night was fucking insane. Definitely wasn’t expecting your bestie to go all buckwild on Dwight.” Negan recalled, detecting your strain towards him. You nodded in agreement, never seeing Sherry enraged in all your years of friendship. “And I’ll say we didn’t exactly left off on the right foot last night. But I do remember you starting it.”

Arms tightly crossed, you throwing him a glare,“I started it? No, you and your little friends were supposed to leave once we closed, but you guys stayed late on purpose knowing that we were closing. That was on you.”

He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, “Listen, I just came to support a friend. Got tired of him crying like a little pussy over her, so I said fuck it. Told him to drive up to that little raggedy old diner, and to win his girl back. And it worked.”

You stayed silent, realizing where it counts he was correct. He was just trying to help his friend, who could be mad at that? And he was actually right, Sherry and Dwight eventually did work things out so you had nothing to be mad about. Tucking a loose curl behind your ear releasing a deep sign. “Yeah, I guess it did”

“Let me make it up to you. The food here is absolute dog shit. There’s a little diner around the corner, foods a whole lot better than the dump you work at.” Negan offered, gripping the arm of your chair leaning closer, throwing you at slight wink. Making your heart beat faster at the closeness between you two. Wow he is so fucking gorgeous and he knows it.

You instantly froze, the thought of being alone with him terrified you, for the most part since you would make a damn fool out of yourself. Thinking up a good excuse you gulped “No, thank you. I don’t even know you Negan. For all I know you could be some psycho serial killer. Might bash my head In with a bat or something.”

“I promise I won’t try anything, all I want is to just make up for last night. I fucking promise sweetheart. My treat.” Negan assured, staring straight into your eyes with an intense gaze, showing you that he was serious. I could stare at his eyes all fucking day 24/7

Your eyes perk up, my treat who could say no to free food especially since the food here was shit, and you were a broke college student. But you did come with Sherry and she will definitely be concerned once she understands you're not there. Fuck her she left me alone for TWO hours you concluded, the anger you felt towards her overclouded your conscious to do the right hing. “Fine. But if you try anything I swear I’ll-”

Negan lifted your chin, “I know, y/n. You're safe with me I promise.”

Neither of you moved a muscle. You could hear his own heartbeat; he could even hear your nervous breaths. Grabbing your purse sending Negan a nod, the two of you head out towards the entrance. As you two stroll towards the diner you gaze toward the sky silently praying to the higher realms that you won’t do anything you’d regret.

[butmomilovejin]

Day 1/365

Prompt: “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

Genre: Angst, Mild crack

Summary: Jungkook had never felt fury like that; uncontrollable. You, having been his best friend for the best part of the last decade, meant so much to him and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being uncomfortable under the hands of some gross loner at a party. After he had taken his anger out on his target, he ends up at his boyfriend’s front door

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment, Violence, Yoongi tries to make light of a bad situation? 

WC: 1.4k

It was 2 in the morning and Jungkook was not where he should be, in bed, asleep. No. He was walking the streets of Seoul, pace rapid, as his legs carry him without him knowing, to Yoongi’s front door. 

He didn’t know what came over him. Earlier that evening, when you had told him about what that guy had done to you at a party the night before, touching you up as you wriggled to escape, you hadn’t expected him to explode like that, rushing out the door before you’d even finished your last sentence. Jungkook rang the doorbell for what felt like hours. No sign of movement in the house. Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he sees almost 100 missed calls from you over the past few hours. He continues to ignore them though as he unlocks the phone and goes straight to Yoongi’s contact. The phone rang... and rang... and rang... and Jungkook had begun searching through his messy pockets to try and find something to pick the lock with. But finally, just as it almost went to voicemail, a groggy sounding Yoongi muttered a confused ‘Hello?’ on the other end of the phone.

“Yoongi! How could you not hear the doorbell??” 

“You’re at my house?” He was now gradually waking up due to the rushed tone of Jungkook’s voice.

“Yes, now please let me in my saliva is turning into ice out here.”

“Nice mental image thank you, but the door’s open just come in.”

“Oh, ok- wait you leave your door unlocked at night?” 

“Locking doors is for the weak; now come inside before you get hypothermia.”

Jungkook tested the handle on the door and sure enough, it was open. He heads to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, listening to the soft movement of Yoongi’s footsteps he walks down the stairs, clad in his dressing gown and glasses, hair a mess, strands in every direction, not that Jungkook’s was any better.

Yoongi sits at a stool in the kitchen and looks at JK’s back as his hands grip the sink, white knuckles protruding, Yoongi seemingly not phased at all that his boyfriend was at his house at the witching hour, looking rather handsomely disheveled.

“Well, aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m here?” Jungkook asked, now facing Yoongi.

“No, I figured you’d tell me without prompting anyway.”

“You- Fair enough. Well where do I even START?”

“Why don’t we start with why you’re not at Y/N’s having your movie night, which by the way, still upset I didn’t get an invite.”

“It’s tradition between us! You can’t come it’s OUR time.”

“Kook... I’m joking,” Yoongi says as he guides the younger to the living room and sits him on a sofa across from himself, “What happened babe?”

The pet name causes Jungkook to look up lovingly to Yoongi. 

“Well, ok, so I was with her and she seemed a bit- I don’t know. She seemed kind of off-ish, I knew something was up when she didn’t even suggest Cat in the Hat for our movie.”

Yoongi nods along but he doesn’t know you nearly as well as Jungkook and has no idea how that would give the impression there was something wrong. Regardless, he acts like he understands as Jungkook continues on.

“I asked her what was up and she was very reluctant to tell me but eventually she gave in. She was harassed last night at that party we were meant to go to. I wish we never ate that week old pie, we would’ve been there if we weren’t spewing everywhere”

“Harassed?” Yoongi asked, trying to the pinpoint the important parts in between Jungkook’s rambled monologue.

“The guy was touching her up even when she was trying to get back to her friends. She said she was fine about it last night, because she was so drunk, it barely registered in her brain, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it all day today.”

“Well, technically yesterday, its 2am.”

“Dude... shut the fuck up.”

“Did you just friend zone me, we’ve been together for 2 years bro.”

“I love you bro.”

“I love you too bro, anyway please continue.”

“Oh yeah, so I basically stormed out, started running before I even knew who it was, realised I didn’t know who I was after, went to her friends Instagram and saw him and Y/N in the back of the picture, figured out who he was, turns out I went to school with the prick, found his Insta and, through that, found he still lived with his parents, knocked on the door, his dad opened the door, I politely asked for his son-” He took a deep breath before continuing, “He called him down, I grabbed his collar and dragged him outside and ruffled him up a bit, a lot actually, but then his dad came out with a whole ass bat and I grabbed the banana in my pocket I was saving for movie snacks and smacked him in the head with it before he could get me with the bat then he fell down and I ran away, oh my god have I killed an innocent old man?”

“Uhhhhhh,” Yoongi is unsure of what to say as Jungkook was now pacing around his living room, “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

Jungkook gave him a death stare.

“Whew, if looks could kill. Listen Kook, you did the right thing, it was a BANANA, as strong as you think you are Mr Gym Lad, you’re not strong enough to kill a man with just a banana. What about Y/N though? You didn’t even say anything before you left?”

Jungkook had calmed down a tad now and was perched back on the sofa. He shook his head to the question, suddenly feeling bad that you were probably at home worrying when, most likely, you had just wanted comfort from him about the situation.

“Call her Kookie. Lets get in my car, you call her, and I’ll drive to her place.”

Jungkook agreed instantly, Yoongi was always good at grounding him. 

They did as they said and Jungkook held his phone to his ear as it rang, after some further persuasion from Yoongi, as the car rolled through the harsh lights of the street lamps, roads completely bare of any sign of life. Contrasting the call to his boyfriend, the phone hadn’t even rang once before your voice was on the other end.

“KOOK WHAT THE FU-”

“Hey...” He says quietly, a bit embarrassed of the drama he had caused.

“What did you do?” You said, relieved that you could hear his voice.

“Me and Yoongi are on our way over, I’m like 5 minutes away, we’ll talk about it then.”

You sigh, “Ok Kookie, you want hot chocolate?” 

He smiles slightly for the first time since stepping foot in your apartment earlier that night. “Do you even have to ask?”

“I’m making one for Yoongi too, does he want cream and marshmallows?”

“You want cream and marshmallows on your hot chocolate babe?” Jungkook holds the phone away from him as he directs the question to Yoongi, putting you on loud speaker.

“Obviously.”

“Ok, see you soon.” You respond before hanging up.

They buzz your apartment and you let them in instantly. The minute the door opens, you run to Jungkook, hooking your legs around him as you hug him closely. You had been worried all night he might have done something stupid on your behalf and gotten himself hurt or, more drastically, imprisoned.

He chuckles lowly as he sets you down. You walk to the kitchen and like little ducklings, they follow.

You hand out the hot chocolate and sit at the dining table, waiting for Jungkook to explain. Both you and Yoongi look at him expectedly and he finally begins his explanation, fortunately much calmer than the first time he had recited his story to Yoongi.

When he was finished, you go to wrap your arms around his neck, “Thank you,” you murmur into his hair as he keens to your hug, “But next time you wanna start chaos, take me with you.” You unwrap your arms to give him a hard flick on the back of the head, causing Yoongi to snigger and Jungkook to sheepishly rub the back of his head.

“Now, I know its late, but can we watch The Cat in the Hat?”

The boys share a look before agreeing and curling up with you on the sofa.

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

AN- Ok! This is my first work of this year! I want to do one every day this year, it won’t always be possible but I will try my best! Yoongi could be seen as a bit insensitive in this one but I wanted to portray the dynamic his and Jungkook’s relationship has. If you enjoyed please leave me some feedback to help me improve and motivate me, like and reblog! 

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Carly: Demi Lovato fucking hates me. I’m fucking done and so do my other mutuals. Fuck this. Fuck everything. Fuck life. I’m done with this shit.

Claudia: What’s wrong

Carly: I started this fucking hashtag. The thing is I was supporting her. The Lovatics I asked to join were supporting and defending her. I’m just fucking done with every goddamn thing in my shitty life. I guess this is what I get for trying to support her and send her love. Whatever.

Screenshot: I’m extremely frustrated, I accepted a free trip to Israel in exchange for a few posts. No one told me there would be anything wrong with going or that I could possible be offending anyone. With that being said, I’m sorry if I’ve hurt or offended anyone, that was not my intention. Sometimes people present you with opportunities and no one tells you the potential backlash you could face in return. This was meant to be a spiritual experience for me, NOT A POLITICAL STATEMENT and now I realize it hurt people and for that I’m sorry. Sorry I’m not more educated, and sorry for thinking this trip was just a spiritual experience. Going against all advice right now and apologizing because it feels right to me and I’d rather get in trouble for being authentic to myself, that staying quiet to please other people. I love my fans, all of them, from all over.

POST: Demi doesn’t deserve this kind of backlash. #weloveyoudemi

ddlovato: Or how about y’all stop having to make hashtags saying you love me every time you realize your words affect me?

Carly: I’m the one who started the hashtag because I fucking love you. I’m not the one who hurt your feelings and the Lovatics who I fucking asked to join were defending you. So I’m fucking sorry and won’t do it again.

Carly: Forgive me for standing up for you then and trying to show you support. I guess I’m done then.

~.O.~

If you have to ask me why I hate this woman, here’s another example. Let’s ignore the invalidating of other queer people simply because she never experienced homophobia from a certain person. Let’s ignore her siding with a genocide-supporting asshole. Let’s ignore her body-shaming of other women because of her own insecurities. Let’s ignore the myriad of other issues and just use this example.

Carly is a Twitter mutual of mine. She loves Taylor Swift and Demi Lovato equally. However every time Demi does something rude af or wrong, she’s at the forefront defending her no matter what the infraction is. To every fandom on stan twitter. To an annoying degree because I hate Demi as a person and don’t want to hear about her. But Carly is a nice person so I just shut up and say nothing whenever I see her Demi posts.

Recently Demi has been kissing Israel’s ass about how perfect they are essentially and how cleansing and calm the country seems during her trip there. A good portion of her fans were very quick to call out how not perfect they are and explain what’s going on with Palestine. They basically just asked for her to be more considerate of other people and what countries that aren’t America, are going through. Now the rest of stan Twitter has not been as kind with her on this matter. Most calling her very terrible names that shouldn’t be repeated even by me who hates her.

But her own fans have been very calm and defensive of her. And so comes that Insta Story and then the rude ass remark on that Insta post.

And now Carly is heartbroken on Twitter and saying some very concerning things that should be monitored closely.

Demi’s own fans are calling her out for her overreaction to a simple post telling her that her fans love her even if she makes mistakes. I don’t care if she’s feeling defensive, she could have simply ignored the post if she didn’t like it. She didn’t need to attack the people behind the hashtag. The person running that account and Carly are now feeling horrible as a result. Add on the fact that she’s been replying to other fans in equally terrible ways and blaming them for the fact that she’s going offline for a time.

dmetriaspickle: bb, we all feel sorry you’re feeling so bad, we just meant to make you see whatever was going on there, it was not our intention to make you feel bad about this, we all love you and just want you to be happy.

ddlovato: Oh don’t worry, you guys made me feel terrible about it, and prob qwill continue to do so. I’ll be hibernating

So I have another reason to hate her. Not just how rude she was to her own fans but because of how she loves her double standards. I can think of so many times where she criticized other celebrities for not being ‘educated enough’ on various topics and where she publicly dragged them for it, but when she’s in that same boat it’s a Poor Me, I Didn’t Know, Stop Being Mean To Me.

No. Her fans have been going to bat for her ungrateful ass all over stan Twitter. They tried educating her while tearing down anyone insulting her. I’ve seen nothing but them being supportive left, right, & center and this is how she treats them?

1.) Being a fan of someone doesn’t meant you can’t criticize questionable actions of theirs.

2.) Being a fan of someone doesn’t mean you can’t be offended by questionable actions of theirs.

3.) Anyone trying to tell you otherwise is a problem.

The fact that she did the ‘you caused this and will probably continue doing it so it’s you’re fault what happens from now on’ is wrong af. That’s the most concerning thing imo. That kind of manipulation tactic is a red flag. And now all these fans who were honestly concerned/offended by the things she was saying and doing unawares, are made to feel like if she has another breakdown, it’s gonna be their fault. Because when Demi gets in too big for her britches on social media, she ‘takes a break’. Everyone knows it.

It’s all about how their words affect her, but she won’t take account of how her words affect them. Because whether people want to admit it or not, Demi has the most power in this situation. She is the famous, wealthy, pop singer. She’s got some decent numbers in various ways on her side. And fact is, the fans who sided with her and thought the Palestinian fans were overreacting, are now attacking other Lovatics on her behalf because of her comments.

And her fans weren’t dragging her! Stan Twitter was collectively at the helm of this bs and the Lovatics were on the defense. Demi is taking her anger out on the wrong people and I hate it.

[lizuouou]

1:17am

jan/18/21

NewYork NY

Today was interesting. I caught myself off guard by realizing how easily a person can get influenced by another. My cousin and I have been discussing family a lot and it feels guilty because there’s so many mistakes, mess and drama. I feel like I definitely over spilled the beans. I need to learn how to stay civil like this is not the best, I know this because it didn’t feel the best but also that my mom sent me a long paragraph explaining how I need to be mature enough to see a world through my win lens and not always be influenced by others, even if they have more votes, my opinion should be entitled to myself and not bias. Bias is a bitch.

I read about Poland springs and how the water they promise us from the springs of Maine doesn’t even have “a drop of fresh water” and Nestle got a lawsuit worth $5millll like bro serves you right we out here drinking tap water lmaooo are we kidding ourselves? Is it really false advertising? Because the last I remember ain’t nobody getting an entire carton of water for like $4? And the plastic, manufacturing, transport, and resources used to get the water itself probably costs so much more. And we’re being promised fresh water from the springs. But why would they give out fresh water from the springs? Who even are we kidding. Isnt water supposed to be worth much more? I thought there’s a war that’s going to happen on water. Shit’s precious!!!

Either ways, I was so bored that right after I actually opened Omegle. No not for any perverted business but because I just wanted to talk to someone. Anyways I came across an 8 year old who told me her boyfriend probably cheated on her and when I asked what? She said yeah haven’t spoken to him in 2 years. I had to control my laughter so hard and I just said “well if you haven’t talked to him in 2 years chances are he probably talked to someone else.” And now as I write this I realized damn, I just gave a little girl advice way too much for her maybe. She dipped faster than a wizard, b knows Whatsup, confrontational issues and shihhh. Then I came across this 19 year old girl from West Virginia who told me her parents left her with her grandmother along with her two younger siblings. They’re drug addicts. I felt kind of really bad because when I confessed I’m glad I saw her face and not a 40y/o’s dick she laughed and said “I just wanted to talk” and I felt that. We both reached out for our puff bars and simultaneously took turns to spill. She told me her dad doesn’t give a shit. We were so chill, no omg I’m sorry to hear that shit. Because let’s be real, you don’t need to be sorry. This is my life, if anything I just want God to feel sorry. Sorry as in, I’m sorry you is sad :( here are your dreams and goals in your hands ta-da. I wish. I felt bad for the girl, the internet kept twitching so I just closed the tab. An 8 y/o and a 18 y/o girl I’ll never speak to again. She told me so much about herself but we never told each other our names. Just our pain? Her boyfriend was a scum bag. Ex boyfriend. Well, I kept silent because I felt like she was being really open. I will never talk to her again. Feels so weird?

That is our generations summary of emotional connection. Short. Like all the fkn boys in my school in FPS like fam just grow up literally lmao jk. Am I? Nah. Anyways I also ditched a friend so brutally I feel bad. They booked an air bnb in front of Central Park and got food and zaza and everything but I chose to meet my best friend his mom and sister, he knew I’m no way interested in him at all. He’s actually always been this genuine. Man’s took the biggest L for us. While Yaldram, rhyme and i walked to his place, he took out a joint and lit it up. Mind it, ain’t legal. A cop literally took a u turn and Yaldram passed it to him cause he was shutting his pants and this dude said yeah give it to me nothings going to happen. BUT SOMETHING HAPPENED.

the cop showed up and asked if that’s weed and rhyme said yes. Holy shit at this point he stretched his arm out and asked for it again and he said no it’s just weed bro, then he reached out called 4 other cop cars by pressing a button (for backup) and I finally said “just listen to him man”. It was embarrassing, people walking past kept looking. Anyways he took all the blame, honestly I just took one puff and was not onboard with the idea to begin with, not even 3 minutes ago I was reminding them how that’s illegal.

He got a ticket, and then I met Yaldram’s mom for the first time and I think I made it so weird because of all what had just happened, was so anxious but whatever. Met his sister and will meet her again tomorrow even though he won’t be there. That makes me happy. I’m welcomed.

However, it was 11:35 pm and I really had to leave cause metro closes at 12am and I realized now it’s too late to go to the air bnb. I didn’t go for two reasons. 1) it’s an airbnb with one guy and stoned? Yeah kinda not the best situation to put myself in. 2) 1

But I felt really bad, this guy rhyme said nothing. He went full MIA for more than a year and doesn’t speak to anyone and didn’t even get back on social media but reached out to me and met me and actually did all this and at the end said bro it’s no worries I’ll drop you, paid for my metro djdnt even let me Venmo (or give me his # or Venmo) only contacts on insta. I didn’t tell anyone I met him because I have to respect his privacy. I apologized a few hours ago because lastnight I said sorry and just that sorry about the food. Because he ordered food there already. But in the morning he told me that I’m a gem of a person and don’t realize that. Like why are you being so nice to me? I can suspect he has a soft spot for me and I have made boundaries and this friendship completely platonic the moment it happened. And he then told me remember the first time we met? ( I didn’t )

It was 2 years ago at a party where I was crying talking to my ex after 2 years of the break up. And this guy randomly walks upto me asks me if I’m okay and gives me water. Mind you no one in a party gives a fuck. Especially that party. And especially my tears against his. It was politically warm? I don’t even know. So that guy who saw me then, came to surprise me on my 21st birthday from NY with the goodies (so illegal) and then ended up meeting my other ex and Yaldram him and I roamed around Boston. It was fun because of my friends. And I was fkn stoned. But yeah and then he looked at me yesterday at the metro and laughed saying “you’ve grown beautifully” I get ceeped out super fast but with this dude I dont. Everhone (including me) thought he’s bi or gay because every time there’s a good looking man he’d say “wow he’s beautiful” but he’s straight he said and also I realized maybe he just speaks his mind. He asked me of the rumors I heard and I told him it was 1) stealing 2) gay and he was like who tf said I’m gay bro, and then he said the guy in front was cute, and then he said “that’s so gay” and laughed. So see? This is a very unusual man. But I had to be home regardless because a) arham b) 12:35am was a perfect time to be home. I don’t like staying out too late anymore? It feels weird. Unsafe perhaps.

However I apologized properly finally. Explaining myself. Saying that I get defensive when I’m high and that the metro closes at 12am but even though the original plan was Yaldram him and I meeting at the place he booked but Yaldram couldn’t show up so I made us go to him instead and we used the time up in getting him his first ticket and in letting me meet my friend before he goes.

I will never forget this man, he told me two of his best friends died that’s why he’d never want his friends to be in any type of trouble. And you know what’s weird about it all? He literally took all the blame in a heart beat with a calm smiley face and I know he’s the one who’s the real gem because not once did he complain or remove that smile off of his face. There was also supposed to be a surprise there but I won’t know anymore. I didn’t ask either.

Writing this made me realize, I want to live harder. I want to be a gem ( no tickets ) but I want to be a gem in my own eye where I can adore myself and allow others to too, and adore them back. Oh and there was also a drunk girl after the whole popo incident who was so sus she acted drunk and said I look like Ariana grande “petit, long hair, big eyes, trust me girl you’re good” and in my head I thought yikes these are the beauty standards in her head which are normalized and thst made me realize oh no she thinks she isn’t good enough does she? Well I hope she does. But also she was sus just weird, walked with us for so long then disappeared then 14 minutes later found myself again running into her at a grocery store by his house?? And she acted as if she never saw me before so I was like oh...

Anyways it’s 1:54 am and I’m glad I wrote today. I’m glad for today, today I was a little less sadder. Particularly because I complained less, tomorrow I’ll try harder.

The end

1:55am

[rwbyremnants]

NOTES: Sorry for letting two weeks pass, didn't mean to lose track of time. Hope you like the update! Things are gonna start moving a little quicker plotwise now; not NECESSARILY because of what happens in this chapter, but it will affect things. More to come!

=Chapter 13

“Hey, Snow Bunnies! Check out where I am!”

The camera panned over to the backdrop of Times Square. Lights flashed and blinded the viewer, turning everything into a smear of colours as it slid back to Weiss’s poorly-lit face, grinning from ear to ear. Her other hand nipped a strand of white-blonde hair behind her ear as the first raised the phone on its selfie stick a little higher.

“Big things are gonna happen in the Big Apple! I’d say more, but who wants all their surprises spoiled? Certainly not me! See you soon!”

As she waved vigorously before tapping the button to stop recording, Yang approached from behind the camera and chuckled. “You sound like the biggest cheeseball.”

“Quiet, you. The fans like to see that I’m happy and my energy is up. Don’t ask me why, but it’s kind of… reassuring? Just watch Demi Lovato’s stuff, it’s all either silly or inspirational. They expect me to be positive and they have every right to expect it by now. I can’t let them down.” Then she put the phone and the selfie stick away. “Now let’s go before someone watching my Insta realises where I am and tracks me down!”

Even as she said that and they turned toward the Yamaha, there came a squeal of several young female voices from deep in the crowd. “Uhhh, too late – get on! Now!”

Yang didn’t wait, but picked her up and stuck her on the seat. They were roaring away from the curb just as a knot of superfans broke through the rest of the throng, starstruck looks in their eyes. What a lucky near-miss.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” she asked Weiss as she dropped her off at the bus a short while later.

“Stop worrying,” her principal sighed with a roll of her eyes, handing her helmet back. “I’m fine. You are not our entire security team. Go see your sister.”

“Okay.” Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she darted in for a quick peck on her lips, making sure it didn’t turn into anything longer just in case they were caught. “See ya soon.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds.” The smirk made sure that Yang didn’t know whether or not she was being sarcastic.

The streets of Manhattan were terribly busy at all times, and almost impossible to navigate. However, equipped with her bike and the GPS on her phone, Yang did manage to find her way without losing herself in the shuffle. Also, without having to untangle the clusterfuck that was the subway map. Now that they had taken care of Weiss’s little social media check-in, they could get on with the rest of their night.

A quaint little place in the upper east side was where Ruby and Penny had selected for their meeting – at Penny's insistence, her being the native. Chinatown would be the more desirable place for dining, since it would remind her of her dad’s cooking, but it was a lot further away from both where the tour bus was parked, and Penny's home in Astoria. A reasonable compromise.

Finally, she managed to find a decent place to park, pretty close to the small bubble tea establishment for which Penny gave her the address. Yang had never tried bubble tea herself, but when Penny and Ruby insisted, she couldn't exactly say no. She had chosen the very same outfit that Ruby and Weiss helped her purchase the first time they met up, a small token that she hoped Ruby would recognise.

As she stood on her toes to try and find the two, she spotted the same mess of ginger hair in a corner booth, sat beside what she thought was Ruby. So right away she headed over, sitting herself down on the seat opposite.

"YANG!" Ruby gasped, then grinned as she threw her arms forward – and was stopped by the table between them. "Hllgg! Whoops, heh…" Scratching the back of her head sheepishly, she sank back down next to Penny. "But I'm so glad to see you, sis!"

"Right back at you, nerds! Happy Easter!" Yang grinned, settling herself down opposite Ruby. The other two had already gotten their drinks, but Yang wasn't too concerned. She just wanted to catch up with her sister. "I still can't believe you're here! How the heck did you pay for your ticket?"

That caused Ruby to blush slightly, and she glanced at her companion out of the corner of her eye – who was currently sipping tapioca pearls up into her straw. "Well… Penny paid my way. One of her dads is a lawyer, so…"

"Hmm?!" Accidentally swallowing one of the bubbles unexpectedly, Penny had to cough and beat her chest to try and force it down right. Once sure it had settled, she quickly looked around to Yang. "S-sorry. Yes! Dad paid for one half of her flight, and I've offered to pay the rest out of my savings. I get more allowance than I usually need, so I was more than happy to!"

"Cool. Well, as long as you both don't mind! I'm so glad you’re in town." Quickly bringing out her phone to check the time, Yang scratched the top of her head nervously. It would be four hours till she could see Weiss again. No matter how confident she was that Weiss would be alright on her own, she was still worried.

"Wow, are we that boring already?" Ruby attempted to joke when she noticed Yang checking the time. But when Yang didn't answer immediately, her smile slipped a notch. "Wait, are we?!"

"Huh? Oh! Nononono! I was just seeing if Weiss messaged. I'm just… it’s my job, y'know?"

As Yang rested her cell phone on the table, Penny stood up, looking over at both of them. "I'll fetch Yang a drink while you two catch up on things, shall I? You did say you had lots of Weiss-related questions."

"Oh! Um, sure! Yang, what'll you have? I like the melon one," she added in a whisper.

"Um… I've never actually been to these kinds of places before. Y'know what, fuck it – surprise me!" As Penny nodded politely and left, Yang looked over to her sister again, quickly flipping her cell phone over so the screen was down – proving she was giving Ruby her complete and undivided attention. Where to start?! There was so much she wanted to say about their touring together that she hadn't had time to before. About the attack that happened, about Weiss in general, about Blake…

In the end, she settled for something else. "So… Penny's pretty nice, huh?"

Both of Ruby's cheeks lit up as she grinned, pushing her glasses further up her nose. "Oh yeah, she's totally the best! I can't believe I got so lucky with her as my roomie - I mean, she's cute, she's smart, she's nice, AND she actually cleans up sometimes instead of being a slob like-" Her words clipped off when she realized she was about to say "like you", but she had the good grace to look slightly abashed for the near miss.

Yang simply smirked at the near slip. Ruby tended to only ramble this much about a subject if she was very passionate about it, like with Weiss, or her studying, or Zwei. Things were beginning to add up in Yang's mind…

"So being here instead of home, that was your idea? Or Penny's?"

"Penny's. I mean, we both kicked around the idea of hanging out in New York sometime, like, a lot, but she was the one that asked if I'd wanna do Spring Break here and stay at her family's place and all that." Then she grinned. "Isn't it exciting?! I'm in New York City!!!"

"Yeah! It still blows my mind that we're the other side the country, and you're here at the same time!" After taking a glance to see how far Penny was down the queue, she turned back to Ruby, slinging an arm over the empty chair next to herself. "So, what are her parents like?"

"Oh, her Dad's super nice, really chill and homey!" Then her expression turned a little more uncertain. "Um… her Father, on the other hand… it's not that he's mean to me or a bad person, he's just kinda strict, and hard to warm up to, I guess."

"He really does sound like Weiss's dad…" But as soon as she let that slip, she quickly snapped her eyes open. Yang wouldn't know that unless she was extra close to her idol, and that was the last thing she wanted Ruby to suspect. "I-I mean, like, he's pretty strict with the rules I have to follow. No photos, no unscheduled signings, yadda yadda."

However, Ruby wasn't quite that thick. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Yang, contemplating. "Why are you acting so funny about Weiss's dad? Is he being mean to my sister?" Suddenly, she shot to her feet. "I'll show him a thing or two about how my sister gets treated!!!"

"Ruby! Ruby!" She held her hands outward, trying to gesture for her to sit back down before any more attention was drawn to them. Checking the coast was clear, she laughed before whispering, "I meant mean to Weiss. Like… she's not allowed to do what she wants, dress how she wants, think for herself. She may be a popstar, but she still has so many rules set by him that she kinda feels boxed in sometimes."

"Oh…" That didn't seem to cheer her up much, but she did at least sit back down. "That's really not cool; I mean, she's such an awesome person – and obviously she's accepting of you, and she was so nice to me! She’s great how she is! So what's the point in him being so, so… control-ey?"

Yang shrugged her shoulders. "That's what I don't get; she’s got a better head on her shoulders than most people ten years older than her, and yet he treats her like she’s five. I mean…" She looked around a moment. Sure, she wasn't about to let the fact that Weiss and her were an item out of the bag, but there was a factor she remembered Weiss's father telling her before the tour began, one that Yang always cringed at when she remembered. "Even if she wanted to, I'm not allowed to let her, y’know, take anyone back to the van. If that's not controlling, I don't know what is."

"You mean she can't even have friends over? To her own tour bus?!" A little slow on the uptake, she seemed to eventually catch on to what Yang was implying, and the little sister blanched. "Ohhhh, you mean- WOW, that is SO none of his business! Geeze!"

"I know, right? He has no right to dictate that kinda stuff…"

But the blush was only growing against Ruby's cheeks as she fidgeted with her cup, staring into space. "I mean, if Weiss happens to find somebody she likes, and wants to take them back to her room… kiss them, play with their hair… maybe even let them give her a back massage… or I could go lower than her back…" Then she sat bolt upright, mortified. "THEY! They could go lower than her back! Not me, I didn't mean me!"

Shit. Of course, how could she forget? Ruby had a huge crush on Weiss. Considering the more recent circumstances between them, that made her big sister start to feel very awkward. After all, this was now her girlfriend Ruby was talking about – but she definitely couldn’t say she felt weird hearing her talk that way about her now, since their relationship was on the down low. Curling a finger through her hair, she tried to look to one side to shield her own blush.

"Y-Yeah… I mean, she can do what she wants. None of her dad’s business."

"Exactly! Up to and including massages! Or more!" Whispering to herself, she added, "No, don't think about 'more' - you promised not to do that!"

Yet again, Yang couldn't look at her sister. She'd give this all away if she asked her to stop, but to let her continue was only making things more and more uncomfortable. Scratching her head, she said quietly, "Don't tell her dad, but I… tend to look the other way when her… partner visits."

"Partner? Oh, so she…" Then her eyes went really round, and she leaned as close as she could, hissing under her breath, "Y-you mean Weiss has a secret lover?! And the tabloids have no idea?!"

That only caused her blush to intensify. Thankfully, she figured Ruby wouldn't suspect a thing. "Oh yeah, for a little while… somebody already close. But I can’t say anything – and you didn’t even hear this much from me, okay?!"

Something like a tiny squeal sounded deep in Ruby's throat, but muffled enough so that no one from other tables would probably notice. "I'm so freaking jealous! Wait, so who is it? No no no, don't tell me – I shouldn't know, oh I shouldn't know about this, but I wanna know so bad!"

Finally managing to handle herself enough, she looked back around, letting out another small nervous laugh. "Maybe when the tour is over. It's… really no one special. But she wouldn't want that info getting out anywhere – and I know you would never do anything with it, but you can't be too careful who hears."

"Who hears what?" Penny asked, placing the drink down in front of Yang. From the looks of things, she'd chosen orange juice to go with melon bubbles. Sitting herself by Ruby's side, she went straight back to her own tea, even though most of the bubbles had gone.

“My point exactly,” Yang snorted.

"N-nothing!" Ruby laughed nervously. "Just, you know… stuff! And things!" She gestured between Yang and Penny. "So, um, this is my sister; Sister, this is my Penny!"

Instantly Penny's eyes were just as round as Ruby's were, a blush joining the freckles on her cheeks. One of those words was certainly the cause. Leaning in toward Ruby, she nervously whispered. "R-Ruby, I thought we weren't telling her about that yet…"

"About what?" Her eyes crossed slightly as she ran back over what she had said, and then she slapped herself in the forehead. "D'oh! Th-that wasn't what I meant, I just got my words all mixed up!"

"So… your Penny, huh?" Yang could turn it to her advantage this time. At least it shifted the subject away from Weiss for a little while, and eased Yang's worries. As a bonus, she loved watching her sister get embarrassed.

And Penny wasn't helping at all when she just covered her face instead, groaning loudly into her hands. "Gosh darn it, Ruby, she knows!"

Slowly but surely, Ruby started melting down into her chair, covering her head with one of her various hoodies; today, it was a green one with a big white symbol in the middle from some comic book series or other.

"So I take it Ruby's the dominant one in this relationship! This just gets better and better!" Yang was teasing, quickly drinking a large portion of her tea. It wasn’t bad, even if the sensation of the tapioca pearls sliding down her throat was a little weird. But mostly, she was just glad to have it as a welcome distraction.

Although it seemed the other two needed it more. Penny especially, who could only cover her face with her hands. Although realising Ruby was vanishing under the table, she quickly pulled her back up. "Don't leave me alone with her! It was you that made it obvious!"

"Well… well it was… OH SHUSH, I didn't mean to and you know it!" All that was visible was her nose and mouth, and even then you could still tell she was beet red.

"Come on, your big sister wants details! Who asked who? When did it start? Were you roommates before or after it happened?"

Yang was going to keep insisting until one of them gave an answer. And now that she had ran out of drink and was left with just the few bubbles, Penny knew it was going to be her. Clearing her throat, she looked over to Ruby nervously as she held her hand under the table, and then back to Yang. "Well… Ruby and I were roommates from the beginning. We got along rather well, liked many of the same movies and books and things… and the relationship developed into a more romantic one from there."

"Yeah," Ruby added quietly, finally peeking out now that Penny had made it acceptable for them to be more open. "Um, I mean, I've never had a girlfriend before, so this is super new to me, so… but I mean, um… I can't imagine life without her now. Is that weird, this soon?"

Oh, the things that Yang wanted to say about her own experiences. Especially those recently. But for now, she had to smile, and simply shake her head. "That's not weird at all. First love makes people feel all kinds of ways. I mean, you know what I was like with Blake…"

At that, her sister tilted her head slightly. "Yeah, you said in a text that you saw Blake again, right? Was that… I dunno, awkward? Not awkward? Like I said, this is all new to me, so I don't know how it is seeing old girlfriends or anything…"

"No, actually! I think… I think we both needed it. I mean, we left on a somewhat bad note before; not fistfight bad but… heartbreak bad. But we're almost to the besties level again now. She has a new boyfriend now who seems pretty cool."

"Aww," Ruby sighed. "Was meeting the boyfriend weird? Yet again, another thing I know nothing about, but that seems like it would be worse than just seeing her again by herself."

Yang was half way through chewing one of the bubbles as she shook her head, swallowing before continuing. "Well… At first it was, sure. But after a while, nah. He seems like a down to earth guy, reminds me of me before I came out. Guess Blake has a type!"

At that, Ruby smiled slightly. "Really? You think maybe he's…"

She gestured to Yang with her cup, a very non-specific gesture that would make nothing obvious to anyone who didn't know about the bodyguard's gender history. It took Yang a moment to realise, until she gasped, "Oh! No. Least… I'm pretty sure he's not." But on that note, she gazed into nothing for a moment, trying to remember what she could about him. Specifically, a comment about sizes. "Aaand from something Blake said, I don’t think he’s a trans dude, either."

"That'd be cool, though! You could be buddies!" Then she glanced at Penny slightly nervously before adding, "And, um, maybe you can give him some… tips? With Blake? What she, uhhh, enjoys?"

"Ruuuubyyyy!!!" Yet again Penny was hiding her head in her hands, cheeks as red as Ruby's usual hoodie. All of which was making Yang smirk and chuckle to herself. Penny was just as much fun to wind up as her sister was!

But nonetheless, she leant in toward her, whispering, "Never underestimate the power of some dedicated foreplay. That's all I'll say in public."

Which was plenty to make Ruby turn even redder than Penny. "Ummmmm I have go to the bathroom!" she squeaked as she hopped up, sprinting for the corner of the establishment.

"Hey, don't leave me alone with her! Ruby!!!" But Penny was left with no choice as she watched her girlfriend vanish into the bathrooms, left only with a red face, and the now laughing older sister. As she ran her hands through her mass of ginger hair, she laid her head on the table and groaned. "This dinner is going to be so embarrassing…"

A very self-satisfied Weiss Schnee strolled into a mid-sized music store in Midtown Manhattan. By all online reviews, Williams Music was known for having top-of-the-line instruments, even if they didn't have a lot of variety due to space constraints. However, she was after was one specific instrument – which they definitely stocked. She had called ahead to be completely certain.

Spotting an employee lingering by books of bass tabs, she said in a polite-but-frank voice, "Excuse me. I need to purchase a guitar."

"Other end of the store," was the abrupt response of the store clerk. Her look was fitting for this type of establishment; bright green hair swept to one side, with a purple hoodie on top to hold it together. She certainly seemed the type to spend many hours tuning her bass under a blacklight. But despite the fact that all she was doing for the moment was chewing gum and reading, she didn't even stop to look at who asked her.

"Yes," Weiss began again, mood only slightly dampened by the attitude of the clerk. "I'm sure that's where they are located. But I'd like to make sure I get the best you have."

The employee finally set her book down. Of course, her attitude was still no better as she first looked her form up and down, before she started to pace toward the back of the shop. She didn't even stop to check if she was following! After all the preferential treatment she had received the past couple of years, Weiss was sorely tempted to whip off the sunglasses and the beanie she had stuffed her hair into. Why shouldn't her star power command a little respect? But she had promised Yang she wouldn't take unnecessary risks, and she aimed to keep it. Besides, it was kind of nice to have someone treat her just like anyone else for a change.

Finally, they arrived at an array of guitars along one wall. Most of them were various high-end electric models, racked up next to electric basses. However, there were six or so acoustics on display, and they all looked nice enough.

"Excellent! So… which one would you recommend? I'd pick the most expensive, but that's not always the same as buying the best."

"If you got money to burn then go for the Epiphone, I don't care." Turning back around toward her, she gestured to the black guitar, one that had a few white markings painted over it. There was no immediate response. Picking up that she was unimpressed, the clerk sighed. "What skill level is the player at? Unless it’s you." The last was tacked on purely for spite, insinuating that Weiss couldn’t possibly be a musician.

"Expert on Guitar Hero." After a few seconds, Weiss folded her arms. "Fine. She's got some real talent that I want to encourage – and I intend for the guitar to reflect her talent level. Also, I want it to last a long time, so nothing made with flimsy parts."

Looking at the racked up guitars again, the punk paced down slightly to the plainish yellow guitar, one that had a mottled brown-and-red pick guard below the sound hole. "Then you want a Yamaha JR1. Pretty mid-range pricewise, durable. For her skill level, it'll be the best choice."

"Hmm, that particular brand would be quite fitting…" Brushing over the surface with her fingertips, Weiss eventually took it from the employee and hefted the weight. "Seems solid enough.” Then she played a couple of easy chords, tuned a peg very slightly and tried again. It piqued the employee’s interest a little more, though she didn’t comment directly. “Does it come in any other colours? This finish is nice, but seems a bit… common. If the sound and quality will be the same, I would rather get her something that shows I put more thought into the gift."

"Nothing stoppin' you gettin' a paint job. But we have a catalogue of the ones we offer right… here." Picking out a small book from the shelf under the display, she quickly flicked through the pages until she found the Yamaha section. Then she handed it over to Weiss.

After a few seconds, Weiss took her sunglasses off and clipped them to the front of her shirt as she glanced down the selections. There weren't many besides the yellow finish; a natural one, a cherry red one, and one that seemed to take the yellow one and add a dark stain around the edges. That one appealed to her the most, and she had a suspicion Yang would appreciate it, as well.

"Do you have 'Tobacco Sunburst' in stock at all?" she asked as she looked up.

"Maybe, but I don’t- don’t…"

When her eyes caught those of her customer, she found herself completely freezing solid. She knew that face, those eyes, the white hair… even the voice. It'd snapped just who she was talking to at last. Weiss Schnee! THE Weiss Schnee was there in that very music store!

But she couldn't let her know that. Not yet. First, she had to be sure this was her, and do her job. So instead, she nodded. Voice now a slightly higher pitch, along with an awkward smile, she tried to sound as detached as before – and failed. "Sure! Let me just go fetch one from the back room for you!"

"Uhh… thank you. Oh, and if there's a matching case for it, I'll also take one of those!" But the woman was already retreating, so she simply hoped she had heard her request and turned to browse through a potpourri of guitar picks that were littered about in a basket.

As her assistant wandered into the store room, her mind was completely abuzz. Even though she was set on her task, she couldn't stop thinking about what she had just saw. 'That was Weiss! Holy shit, that was actually her, in the flesh! You've been trying to get into one of her concerts for well over a year and she walks in, and you treat her like crap – way to fucking go, Reese! Why are you like this?'

When she found the selection of guitars, she grabbed the finish she had asked for. The nicest one in the stockroom; it was the least she could do. And on her way back, she went to look for a case that would match it fairly well.

'Okay, calm down… It still might not be her. But if it is her, she'll have a tour bus or something, right?' She picked up a yellow ones that had a tribal dragon design over its casing. Something was telling her this would be the one she would want. 'That's it!' she thought as she made her way out with both items. 'Get Arslan to ring her up, then you can sneak out and follow her on your break! If it's not really Weiss, you come straight back. If it is, can you imagine the stuff you'd see?!'

When Reese returned from the stockroom, Weiss had selected two or three picks that struck her fancy and was inspecting a tuba out of boredom. When her eyes alighted on the case, complete with guitar tucked inside, she began to smile.

"Ooh… you know, I think that complements the guitar quite well."

'That's her, definitely. You've listened to more than enough interviews to know her voice.' She handed both items over to her seemingly famous client. Now she just had to get away for a while.

"I figured it did, y'know, the whole torched thing, plus a dragon. Now if you head over to my friend at the counter, they should be able to put it all together as a package deal for you; we’re having a promotion for guitars bought with cases. Knock off a few bucks."

"Ah," Weiss said with a polite smile as she took the case. By now, they both knew that the money didn't matter to someone like her, but Weiss didn't know Reese knew. "Well, that is much appreciated. Thank you for the assistance." Then, with a slight nod, she headed off toward the counter to complete her transaction.

"No, thank you…" She spoke quietly to herself as Weiss headed to the counter. Her plan was in action. As Weiss was being served, she made a quick dash to the staff room to sign herself out for break, then grabbed her skateboard and headed out the main doors into the hustle and bustle of the outside crowd. If she blended in, she knew Weiss would never have any chance of noticing her…

Sure enough, by the time Weiss was through talking to the dark-skinned woman with bleached-blonde hair at the counter, signing warranties and declining to become part of their mailing list, she had forgotten about Reese entirely; she was too focused on having made one of the most important purchases of her life.

"Yang is going to love this," she whispered to herself as her burly security guard motioned to the cabbie who had kept the car idling for her as she shopped. The man hopped out and helped her situate the large giftwrapped case in the back seat, where Weiss would still have plenty of room to sit next to it on their way back to her bus, the guard taking the passenger seat.

Thankfully, the traffic was rather slow in the area. Which meant that she couldn't easily keep up with the taxi in the traffic without having to get her own, but she managed – even if she did have to hastily warn some of the bystanders to jump out of the way. Every time there was a red light, Reese had caught up again, even if it had managed to get a few metres down the road.

Within twenty minutes or so, they were back to the parked bus. As the guard assisted Weiss with her things once more and Weiss tipped her cabbie generously, Reese was keeping an eye on them from a distance. It was definitely her, and the bus proved it one hundred percent. Now was the next issue: getting in unnoticed.

The guard held the door open so Weiss could struggle with the overlarge case. It wasn't all that bulky, but then again, Weiss was not an especially big person. Then she was inside and out of sight, the guard remaining outside of the door.

'This is gonna be a little tougher than I thought,' Reese mused as she hid her skateboard nearby. What were her options? She could hardly pay off a guard, not when she was barely making enough to afford an apartment in the Bronx. Nor could she fight him down. The only other option was…

A window. Weiss had left one of the windows at the rear of the bus wide open, presumably to let in the fresh air while she was out. It wasn't in the eyeline of the guard, and so pacing to it was simple. Keeping out of sight of him, she walked around to it, listening out for any possible sign that Weiss would be out of the way so she could enter, or at least just have a look…

A light humming was coming from the window. Not loud enough to signal that she was in that room itself, but she was definitely in the bus. Then the sound of running water gave away her location. It didn’t stop, which meant a shower, not just washing her hands; perfect. She wouldn't be coming out for a while.

Hauling herself up and straight through the window; she tried to make no noise whatsoever. And landing on the sofa meant she did that with ease. She'd done it! She was inside Weiss's tour bus!

"Oh man, nobody's ever gonna believe this," she whispered quietly, heart pounding in her throat. Where to start? What was she even doing in there?! The main room didn't have much to offer of value; just a few tables and seats, the wrapped guitar in its case, a couple of pairs of boots… though she happened to notice one pair seemed a bit too big for the diva herself.

Curiosity was getting the better of her, and when she looked toward the main bedroom area, she couldn't resist. As quietly as possible, she made her way inside, nudging the door closed behind her to make sure she was hidden that while longer. Yet even there offered very little in actual items that would make for a really cool memento. Was Weiss as pure and dull as everyone believed?

However, one thing did catch her eye in an unexpected place. In anyone else's household, she would have turned her nose up at the sight, but here, there was a story to tell in the laundry basket. One she couldn’t believe. On top lay a pair of black shorts, stained with the telltale remnants of a wild night. That added with the bigger boots she'd seen…

‘Weiss isn't the innocent, All-American sweetheart everyone thinks she is,’ she thought to herself with a quiet chuckle. ‘Shoulda seen that coming…’

Suddenly, the sound of running water stopped. There were shuffling sounds from inside the bathroom; it wouldn't be long now before the diva emerged, and the bedroom was her next likely destination. Eyes snapping wide open, the intruder realised she didn't have much time left. She needed to take something if she wanted people to believe her! Some kind of trinket that wouldn't be noticed, but enough to prove it.

Spotting the hairbrush on the small dressing table, she quickly nabbed it, forcing it into the large pocket of her hoodie and making her escape to the door. That would have to do. But as she opened it, she realised her escape plan had come too late.

Standing before her was Weiss herself, one towel tucked around her torso, and another wrapping up her hair in a makeshift turban. Those were the only things covering her flawless white skin. For a few seconds, she merely blinked at the girl who was somehow in her bedroom – and blushing from being this close to a nearly-nude celebrity. Then she opened her mouth, and the first words out of it were almost inane.

"Um… can I help you?"

Her intruder didn't even have any words. All she could do was stare back at the underdressed diva in front of her, blinking herself a few times to try and focus. Her mouth did work for a second, as if she could come up with anything to say that would fix this situation.

Until she made a quick dash toward the open window again.

"HEY!" Weiss shouted loudly, pelting after her. "Wait, wh-what are you doing in here?! And where are you going?!"

She almost cut off her retreat, but not fast enough. The intruder had already thrown herself out the window, dashing away from the scene. The damage had already been done; a complete stranger had been in her home, raided through her things, and made off to tell the tale.

But what she didn't consider was the bike pulling up just by the bus from the opposite side. Yang had managed to get back early, with the thought in mind of using the shower herself before they headed for dinner at Penny's. But upon dismounting, she could hear a strange amount of shouting…

All Weiss could think to shout while half of her torso was hanging out of her living room window was, "STOP! THIEF!!!" One arm held her towel over her chest while the other was levelled in the green-haired punk's direction as she snatched up her skateboard from where it had been stashed behind a trash can.

There was no hesitation. Instantly Yang was in pursuit by foot, dashing right past the van and heading the same direction as the green haired thief. In the busy streets, it was a difficult chase, especially when numerous people were looking around at them, curious of what was happening.

But having barely made it past one block, the chase was over. Yang had launched herself forward, latching her arms around the green haired thief and tackling her to the ground, sending her skateboard flying backward in the opposite direction. Despite her requests to be let go, Yang held firm, managing to adjust her position to pin the girl's hands behind her back, where she held them firm.

"What's the big deal?! I didn't take anything valuable! I just looked around!"

"You can talk to the rest of the security team about that. Now move it!"

Unconcerned about the growing crowd around them, Yang had hauled the green haired thief to her feet despite protest, keeping her hands restrained as she walked her right back to the bus's location. At least that way, the security could hold her until authorities were phoned, and Weiss could get answers she needed.

By the time Yang returned, Weiss was wearing a simple white dress and green flats that didn't particularly suit each other, but they had been pulled on in a hurry. Her hair was still in the turban. A crowd had gathered outside the bus, one or two people snapping pictures with their phones, and she certainly didn't want to be caught with a towel that could fall off at the worst possible moment.

"Thank you for grabbing her," Weiss sighed in relief. Then she fired back up at once. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself – and I can't believe you followed me here from the store!"

Teeth gritted in mild pain, Reese struggled in Yang's grip. "Hey, what do you expect?! Not every day a popstar comes in. Real question is, someone as big as you, why'd you leave a window open?!"

The comment only made Yang angry for Weiss. Right away, she pulled the girl's arms in tighter behind her back, growling lowly. "Because she's still a person? An open window ain’t an open invitation into somebody else’s home! You ever consider that before you did this?!"

"Exactly!" Weiss agreed heatedly, hands on her hips. "You have broken the law, and I'm afraid you're just going to have to live with the consequences!"

"Come on, anyone would have done what I just did! It doesn't matter if I broke some dumb law or not! Anyone would have jumped at the chance to get a sneak peek into Weiss's life – which as it turns out ain't so innocent after all!"

That response earned a few gasps from their gathering crowd, not to mention, a rather horrified look from her bodyguard. There wasn't anything to give things away inside the bus, was there?

"Wh… I don’t understand, what are you talking about?" Weiss breathed, quietly enough that the others gathered would not overhear. Her blood was running cold, her palms tingling.

"Some of the clothes in there aren't yours, and some of your laundry is… extremely dirty."

Right away, Yang knew. She remembered leaving the shorts she had used to wipe away the remains of that night in Weiss's laundry basket. But what angered her more than this intruder knowing that business was knowing that she had been in her bedroom. It was such a violation. Before she could reflect on that for too long, she forced her toward the nearest security staff to hand, trusting them to hold onto her instead. Any longer and she knew she would have ended up doing something she regretted.

But Weiss wasn't above a low blow. She followed, keeping an eye on Yang's clearly upset features out of the corner of her eye. As the police sirens began to reach her ears, she leaned in and grasped the collar of Reese's hoodie.

"Listen, you. Maybe I do have a personal life outside what I let my fans know about. But it's still my personal life – and you're still the one who broke into my bus AND went rifling through my laundry! How can you stand there and judge me?!"

"Because everyone else is gonna do it anyway. You really think cuffing me’s gonna change that?" Reese shook her head. She looked scared, but also angry at being forced to own up to her own actions. “God, all I wanted was to get a souvenir and a story! You really forgot where you came from. Well, good luck sweeping this one under the rug.”

Those were the last words the scorned fan spoke before the security staff hauled her away toward the oncoming police cars. An ominous warning that this was going to change Weiss’s life. But she didn’t know anything – not really. Whether it was the ramblings of a crazed fan or not, Yang didn't care. All she did was glare at the woman as she was forced into the back of a squad car.

But upon noticing how big of a crowd had actually gathered around them, that seemed to be the last straw for her. Raising her hands upward, Yang practically spat, "What's everyone gawking at, huh?! Show's over!"

Once the suspect was in custody, an officer had taken Weiss’s statement, as well as Yang's; finding out she was employed to protect Weiss's interests seemed to be enough to satisfy their curiosity as to why she had chased down Reese on foot. They did turn up the hairbrush in her pocket, but it could not be returned yet; it was evidence now. The fingerprints from her window provided only one clear set; there were others inside, but they were so muddled up with her own and Yang's that it didn't matter. None of the police even gave the laundry a second glance – luckily for them both. It was such a cut-and-dry case of a fan breaking in to steal a single item that there seemed to be no need.

But now they had to deal with the consequences of Reese’s outburst. It may be just a minor inconvenience for everyone else, but for Yang and Weiss, this would have widespread effects. Even if Yang's reputation was completely unharmed by the transpiring events, Weiss's was potentially under threat. All it took was one silly rumour to potentially ruin her reputation, and get her in major trouble with her father. Yang cared more about that than anything else.

Taking a seat in the sofa, she hesitated a moment before she asked, "You okay?"

"No," Weiss sighed, face in her hands. "I feel so stupid – I shouldn't have left the window open, but I wanted to air out my musty bus, and it was only… I thought the guard being with me at all times would have been enough, he should have been enough! Why can't people just… just let me live my life?!"

Rather than say anything else, Yang sighed deeply, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her body in close. The very idea that this whole thing happened was enough to make Yang's blood boil. But she couldn't let that feeling take over. Weiss was her priority. And she was going to do everything in her power to make her feel safe again.

"You're right, it should be enough." Yang repeated, stroking her shoulder softly. "Don't blame yourself, you're allowed to have a window open, it's not like you're a prisoner."

"But I shouldn't have to post a guard at every corner of the… oh, never mind. I just hate this." Sighing, she leaned back against the couch. "And now I don't feel comfortable here, I… god, I just want to be home in Nashville for once."

Looking around the bus a moment, Yang count understand why. The idea someone had been in here without either of their knowledge, even if no harm came to her… the thought of someone rooting through their personal belongings was enough to make Yang's skin crawl.

"Well… we could always book a hotel room or something. I mean, we're here for all your gigs, right? It’s gonna be a while."

"Suppose you're right. And… and maybe that sounds okay, but I don't want to draw undue attention to this by having people camp outside the hotel, trying to figure out why I'm there instead of my bus."

"Ugh… you're right about that. What else can we do?" Leaning forward, she ran a hand over her face as she tried to think. The bus wasn't the best place to be at the present, and hotels would draw attention. It was a shame that they didn't know anyone in the city that had a place of their own-

Then Yang suddenly snapped her fingers instead. They did know someone in New York City. Perhaps not with a place of their own, but it didn't hurt to ask. And with that knowledge in mind, she pulled her cell phone back out of her pocket, quickly typing away.

"Let’s try for a plan B."

[solace-seekers]

i just got halfway through this and tumblr glitched and it deleted :) anyway, i’ve been tagged in this before (thanks @simping-for-nico-di-angelo !) but i’m doing it on here cause less long ! (thanks ghost for the tag!)

Name: anna

Pronouns: she/they (not completely convinced on these but we vibing)

Height: 5’6” or 5’7” (it’s been a bit, but i’m taller than ghost and same height/maybe taller than whimsy so there’s that)

Favorite Bands: i’ve been listening to a lot more playlists that individual bands recently but AJR, half alive, Remember Dawn, and marina and the diamonds are all good (dci groups if they count too!)

Favorite artists: uhh halsey, melanie martinez, sleeping at last (i can’t remember if they’re one person or not, just take it) benny and more i’m not remembering

Song stuck in your head: “Loyalties among thieves” by New Politics, “Way less sad” by AJR, and “Shout out to my ex” by little mix (but these change by the hour so)

Last movie you watched: Peter rabbit (not by choice, i love an awkward family movie night where i pretend i’m not on my phone the entire time during a movie i can’t stand)

Last show you binged: She-ra

When you created your account: very recently, like last year or soenthing

Other blogs: @solace-adrift as an angst blog and then just created @solace-tagged for tag games so i’ll be using that blog for these from now on so i stop feeling guilty

Why i chose my url:

@solace-seekers -> to match my fan insta and because will solace noises and also forever searching for peace

@solace-adrift -> keeping things solace but also angst blog so i’m not at solace

@solace-tagged -> keeping things solace and for tag games

Number of people i follow: 40 (i get very anxious about following ppl and not being able to keep up with the timeline, i also just forget when i mean to follow people oops)

Followers: 254 (just noticed i passed 250 so ??? thanks!!!)

Hours of sleep: i’d say i average maybe 4-6? but also i wake up a lot and just kidna stare at the ceiling so maybe less

Lucky number: 8, 11 and 18 for literally no reasons at all

Currently wearing: a jurassic park tank with cotton shorts (plus purple eyeliner and contacts i need to remove but haven’t :))

Dream trip: chilling around germany with my friends and also just like face planting into nature and not having to worry about things

Dream job: fuck if i know

Favorite gifts: uhhh candy is always nice also just like jewelry when people know my tastes? especially rings

Favorite song: i cannot express how much this changes but uhh let’s go with mars by sleeping at last

Universes id like to visit: riodarnverse in general (<3 tkc), atla, and marvel (ik i’m basic. shush)

Tagging: anyone who wants to!!! i’m very bad at keeping up with who wants to be tagged along with who’s already been tagged but if you ever want me to tag you just lmk! i promise i don’t bite and i’d love to get a list together of ppl to tag so i make sure i’m not annoying anybody!

I have been tagged in this ask game more than once now, so I'll do it through here because I feel bad I haven't been responding to these lately: (thanks for the tags @my-apollo-gies and @simping-for-nico-di-angelo)

Name: Currently I use Hya online but that's just a nickname, most people call me ghost and I'm chill with that... I'm still considering names :/ (and when I finally figured that whole thing out, I won't use Hya anymore)

Pronouns: He/Him (I'm always pronoun shopping though, I never buy anything I just browse)

Height: 5"5 (I'm pissed Whimsy is taller /hj)

Favorite Bands: ?? Uhh... The 1975 ig? The Japanese House is pretty good, idk if HONNE is a band or not... I can't think of anymore off the top of my head but there's more

Favorite artists: uhhh idk names I'm sorry (I have my own spotify playlists somewhere, answering questions about music is hard)

Song stuck in your head: "Ours" by Taylor Swift alternating with "Love Me" by the 1975... It's chaos

Last movie you watched: Love, Simon (only marginally better than the book, I'm not a fan of either apparently)

Last show you binged: oh get ready to roast me... Little House on the Prairie...

When you created your account: fun fact staff might deactivate my account if they know... I'll say I remember superwholock and I remember waiting for BoO to come out...

Other blogs: @the-ghost-king and @where-nothing-is-tagged (any other's have to be asked for, I do have them but most don't update anymore because I got too overwhelmed, some still do)

Why I chose my URL:

@the-ghost-king -> who wouldn't?

@where-nothing-is-tagged -> catchall blog for random things I find scrolling, usually where most of my tag games go (hence why they're never seen on this blog)

Number of people I follow: 1645

Followers: I hate talking about this but 1077... I've decided if I get 34 more I'll do a follower event

Hours of sleep: in the past 24 hours I've gotten one hour and 27 minutes of sleep and that's pretty regular for me :/

Lucky Number: 2 is my most lucky but 4 and 6 are also lucky

Currently wearing: a pastel pink ribbed shirt underneath a black corduroy button down dress

Dream trip: global trip around the world, emphasis on Europe and South America

Dream job: fuck if I know, some sort of art or medical degree... I've been looking into scientific illustration

Favorite gift(s): I'm not a huge gift person I favor practicality so I suppose the best gift is whatever I need

Favorite song: changes daily, can't handle music questions 😔

Universes I'd like to visit: whatever one my gender is correct in

Tagging (no pressure) : anyone who wants to! + @glassamphibians @buoyantsaturn @solace-seekers @heyimboredtalktome @gayleafpool @supermarketcrayons (I apologize if I missed anyone who might have wanted to be tagged, if that's you lmk and I'll remember you tag you next time!)

[terribleco]

BLM

I've sat on the fence about whether to post anything about racism, as on one hand I thought "This is really important and I need to make my stance clear", and on the other I thought "Do people just want me to post about skateboarding, and will they get pissed off by this?". Ultimately I thought "Fuck it": anyone who takes issue with me posting about this probably sucks and I don't want them reading my blog anyway. If skateboarding is as progressive, open, inclusive and utopian as we all think it is, having the opinion that innocent people shouldn’t be murdered by the police shouldn’t be a controversial take.

I am an (admittedly pale) mixed race Black/British skateboarder, and there is a really horrible undercurrent of racism in the UK. As much as we like to think otherwise, it does often worm it’s way into skateboarding. I have either been silent or compliant in casually racist conversations, or actions from other skateboarders in the past. If there are any people out there I have personally offended with my actions or words in the past, I'm truly sorry. As someone from my background, you are also taught to shut up when these conversations happen - lest you become the butt of the next round of racist bullying. I chose self preservation instead of sticking up for fellow skateboarders, and it's something that makes me angry at myself to this day. 

Skateboarding can be utterly hypocritical when it comes to race. For years this lifestyle was the preserve of angry, white boys who just wanted to shred and get gnarly. Many years ago in Coventry, Black skateboarders were quite rare, and I remember one of the groms in the scene bemoaning the lack of influential skaters from a Black background in the city. And although, yes, I do come from a Black background, I did understand his point - Black skaters were rare in the city at the time. 

Knowing you ethnically differentiate from many of the other skateboarders in your city can be lonely, and I can also imagine this can be said for anyone who wasn’t a straight, white male at that time in skateboarding. But, being a Black skateboarder is important in inspiring others from the same background to pursue this activity, and become part of this community. Skaters like Jordan Thackeray, Shaun Currie and Korahn Gayle are all no doubt influential to younger Black British skaters who never thought this lifestyle was for them.

In the current climate, could you imagine skating street spots as a Black skateboarder and having to deal with police kicking you off of spots? If you were skating in the US, would you even make it home from the session alive? This is the shit white pro skaters never had to deal with - a ticket, a slap on the wrist, or maybe a board being confiscated at worst. We like to hold up the "Skateboarding makes everyone equal" card, but regardless of this we are all still different and experience social interaction differently based on who we are, what we look like, and how society perceives us. It isn't about erasing our differences, but embracing them and realising we are all awesome in different ways. 

It's been revealing to see the wave of apology posts coming out from board companies about specific bigoted incidents: Julien Stranger apologising for TMo's racist encounters on the Anti-hero insta, Kyle Walker apologising for spouting a racist slur whilst singing along to a rap song. I’d like to say I’m shocked and surprised, but skateboarding has had a problem with bigotry (and sweeping it under the rug) for a while: 

Danny Way’s involvement in being an accomplice to second degree murder of a gay man whilst Josh Swindell took the blame didn’t stop him getting featured as the face of the Skate video games.

A wave of shock washed over the skateboarding industry when Brian Anderson came out as gay (thus proving that gay skateboarders do exist, and yes, they fucking rule). But it took a legendary pro like Anderson to reveal his sexuality before skateboarders started to lay off on the homophobic in-jokes. 

Constant comments of "that's a dude" when insta accounts promoting female skateboarders post a clip of a trans skateboarder, which in turn raises the other issue of people only following these accounts to see hot girls riding skateboards (as opposed to, you know, just wanting to see some skateboarding). 

This community is not as inclusive and open as we like to believe, and the sooner we collectively accept that the sooner we can do better. It’s probably because skateboarders still skew toward mainly young boys, and comes with a bit of immaturity attached... But maybe that isn’t fair, as many young kids now are very conscious of being inclusive and trying to curb bigotry. In some cases kids are more accepting than adults twice their age. 

As a group largely consistently of straight men, we have accepted many male, Black skaters as “one of us” for a long time, but this doesn’t really mean a lot until we stick up for our fellow skateboarders, and use whatever privilege’s we have to prove that skateboarders stick up not only for their own, but anyone who is bullied and pushed down by society. 

How many unreasonable, shitty police officers have you dealt with when you are politely trying to leave a spot? I got stopped and fined for even carrying a skateboard in Coventry City Centre once, and the police made me feel like I'd been out there shooting people. I got “profiled” by police many times in my late teens because I “looked like” someone they were after - questioned about where I was going, where I lived, where I worked, because I looked a bit “ethnic” and was walking home near some nice houses. Only now do I question why I was stopped so many times, despite having no criminal record.

Years ago police in Coventry were throwing people in cells for the night if they were skating street. Young men get stopped and searched by police all the time in hopes of finding weapons, drugs or both - and this has happened to skateboarders in attempts to deter street skating. And here's the kicker: if they are doing that shit to white skaters, can you imagine the shit they're pulling on Black skateboarders? You can't champion Black skateboarding legends like Stevie Williams, Ray Barbee or Chris Pastras on one hand, and then sit there saying "All Lives Matter", or saying we must retain statues glorifying slave traders, or stick up for police brutality. 

Rather than just being silent and sticking to skateboarding, be loud and make some noise. 

As a start, you can donate to the following charities to help the cause:

BLM UK - https://www.gofundme.com/f/ukblm-fund

Stop Hate UK - http://www.stophateuk.org/donate-to-stop-hate-uk/

[petitalbert-blog]

So I'm still - still! - having panic attacks and self harm incidents courtesy of being harassed by the tradcraft mean girls last month, and it's bumming me out. (Don't send unprovoked insults and attacks to strangers; you don't know what they are going through or how it will affect them.) It's feeding into a lot of thinking I'm doing at the moment about the broken promise of the internet. How it does do all this cool stuff like link me with ideas and strangers and make me feel a part of global communities and invested in all sorts of people doing odd stuff. And yet also, it's always at the risk of assholes showing up and shredding you, and there's nothing you can do to prevent that. I think pagan tumblr has an especially bad crowd, but just in this last month I've put up with the same bullshit from like - my ferret forum. My origami forum. My artist trading card community. None of these are me picking fights with people, they're just people deciding that it's fun to stir shit with strangers on the basis of a 100 word post. The last time this happened badly, I had been out of the crisis ward for 2 days - so I messaged the person to say look, this isn't on, I don't want this kind of interaction online and they said "sorry im just tired" as if I wasn't still vomiting every time I consumed liquid. Part of the frustration for me is, for abuse related reasons, I know how badly this stuff fucks me up and have spent the last few years trying to change my relationship with the web to minimise it - I've unfollowed everyone who does it, stepped back from political blogs and conversations which tend to invite this kind of assholery, unfollow or block people instead of disagreeing with them, ghost-blocked a tonne of irl friends who behave like this online, and dumped anyone whose behavior extends to this in person. But no one can really stop drive-by hostility coming to find you. I'm thinking a lot about the Internet As Abuser. Bear with me. I find it hard to differentiate between voices on the internet, as I think most people do. You're not interacting with faces, just with text. I open my inbox and I don't know if I'm going to find supportive and kind messages from strangers, or strangers screaming in my face and telling me to die. Funnily enough, I'm frightened of reading my notes. Have been for years now. It's a pervasive sense of unsafety. It's the same person being unpredictably a source of comfort and a source of terror. It's not being able to defend yourself against it in any meaningful sense. Most of the people I chat to on tumblr are cool people who are lowkey my friends and who I've learnt a lot from. And three three or four times a year You know, it's just so normal. I've actually got a bit in my about where I say "please don't send me hate mail", but obvs no one takes the time to read that. It's normal to treat strangers like this and, if you're a really cool witch, it also boosts your "no one fucks with me" cred and nets you followers. Boy do I love being used as a box others use to clamber on top of. It's also mirroring problems I'm having in real life. Like, I'm afraid to leave the house or go anywhere or talk to anyone because I'm afraid of being attacked. So I spend a lot of time socialising on the internet instead where I - I'm too afraid to read my notes or my inbox or interact with anyone because I'm afraid of being attacked. I'm thinking about "creepy bus stop randos" as a comparable model for internet harassment and how to end it. To wit: three or four times a month ill be on a bus and some bloke will decide we are going to have a conversation, deliberately misread my body language, and saying "please go away and leave me alone" only makes things worse. Comparable in the sense that: 1) being in public is not consent to have conversations with you and 2) the onus is on the person starting the conversation to figure out whether their conversationee is into this kind of interaction and, if you're not sure, err on the side of not doing it. and 3) If the person seems to be uncomfortable, back off rather than inviting all your mates to have a go. I can't opt out of strangers getting in my personal space online or irl, and it bothers me a lot. I don't leave the house most days. And online, it causes problem like - far from hating creatives, I'm literally a full time working artist and author reliant on the web for work, except I'm too frightened to answer my work email or even look at it, and to update my brand blog or insta, and interact with people as I'm supposed to; I'm too frightened to work, but one can't opt out of the internet and be an artist these days. So it goes. My attitude is supposed to be "oh just ignore bullies and do your own thing", but like - this is the third time this week I've been alone and had this panic attack and ended up bloody. It's absolutely a Problem, a problem without end. Like, I don't have a good relationship with the web. I know that. It's just unavoidable; people in my life don't take requests like "I need zero access to the internet" seriously, and you need it to do anything nowadays. This is what happened for me in political environments too. For a while it was like - I hate how all the loudest voices here are mean bitches, I'm going to try and model a kinder sort of politics - and now it's just - I don't care about the collective, and if people want to create a mean environment then they deserve it. I just want the world to leave me alone. This is just the latest in a long series of hobbies and communities and environments where you're welcome only so far as you don't step out of line, and you accept people being mean without complaint. I don't want my existence to be series of standing up to bullies, I want people to be kind as a matter of course. I think this is a roundabout way of saying I'd like to start an old school blog and start putting my posts there instead. There's a post on my queue which I don't know is posted yet or not about the internet of my youth, how 90s html website culture and 00s blogger/WordPress culture were slower, quieter and more generous than the speed and the nastiness of interactive social media like tumblr and so forth. Those older blogging forms were shouting into the dark - you rarely got responses or knew who was reading, and as much as I love the interactions I have with friends online and the support I've had from strangers, I actually don't think that is enough compared to the constant, constant, constant terror the dark side of internet comms has for me. (Even livejournal - batshit as that was - had more ability to wall your content and make rules about interaction in your space than here.) It's my birthday today and all I've done is cry, and cut, and hyperventilate because a small power-hungry clutch of internet bullies have worked out that being performatively mean for their followers is a great way to drive traffic to their content and self-validate the power of their craft by having a fan club and picking on people who can't fight back. I can't get the feeling of panic out of my skin; I can't differentiate the voices on the internet enough to feel like 6 billion people on the planet all hate me personally, and that everyone I encounter is just waiting for an excuse to use me or hurt me or get the knives out; I can't face participating in another club or hobby or trying to meet new people because it's just going to be this same thing where everyone is nice until you get targeted by the big kids and have to accept it or leave; this is my 18th year in therapy, and there's nothing promising on the horizon to help me cope with these fears any better. But like, that's just humans for you.

[plussizepanda]

A saga in three parts: or why cishet men are literally the worst. As many of you know, while I am ~partnered~ or whatever you want to call it, we are both open to seeing other people, and when this man came along and started a flirtationship, I was open to it and reciprocated. (Although I should have trusted my first instinct against ever dating someone who approaches me using a lurker account based on a second rate Simpsons character that died in one episode, but I digress.) Honestly, sometimes my naïveté regarding men shines through brighter than Rihanna's Swarovski titties, and this was definitely one of those moments. We were vibing over chat. He knew his shit when it came to music. I never saw a pic before we met, because, hey, I'm asexual, and that generally doesn't really matter to me, if I vibe I vibe. I was having a meeting downtown, and he mentioned he was gonna be in the area. I was half joking when I said "you should take me for dinner" and kind of shocked when he said sure. I met up with him by his landmark car. I won't tell you what it was in case you live here, as I don't really care to fuck with him that badly. I'm only writing this because writing helps me process trauma. He takes me to a smoke lounge, and we blaze which is great cause I hadn't smoked all day and my pain was an 11 on the 10 scale. Maybe that's why I felt so at ease around him - when someone can make your pain go away you appreciate them. Then we go for wings, and I tell him not to make fun of the way I eat. We talk through the whole meal. He's sweet - corrects himself when he accidentally uses gendered language, listens attentively, and doesn't make fun of the way I eat wings. We decide afterwords to go for a walk, and then ice cream, and then a drive. We post up and smoke again, and talk for another couple hours. I'm impressed at this point - not that he's spending on me or that he has a cool car, but because he's genuinely interesting and smart and funny and talkative. The date is something out of a romantic comedy. But yknow, something always has to go wrong in the movies. The next day we're both busy with other things, but continued to text during the day when we could. I was seeing my person, and was excited to share this with him cause I knew he would be happy for me, which he was! He was super excited and even helped me pick an outfit for our next date which was to be the following night. The date day came and we were chatting about the night to come. We were going to a show, and decided to meet at the venue. He again, decided of his own volition to flex, and paid to upgrade me to a seated ticket so we could have a place to sit. The show was amazing, he let my friends sit in the seats with us, and didn't make fun of how emotional and loud I was. Burlesque does that to me. When we left he was charming as I schmoozed with other dancers and introduced myself. He was polite to my friends. He was a gentleman and put his arm around me when I was cold. After the show we went to chill and smoke and talk. I got very philosophical, as I do, and spent a lot of time explaining my trauma. I don't know how he managed to do it, but I swear he used my stories as a guidebook to his own treatment of me. We pulled outside of my apartment and talked for another few minutes, but we both had to work, so I said that I wouldn't keep him too late. That was a laugh because of what happened next. He asked for a kiss. Now a normal person on a good date when they're vibing and feeling shit and happy, would be happy to share a smooch. But I'm not normal, and it takes me time to allow that level of intimacy in my life. Well, he took great offence to this and decided at that moment that he was no longer feeling me. Funny how that works, eh? I tried to explain why I couldn't do it, and that I knew how it was because guys reject me like this all the time (to which his response was "I'm coming to you as an individual not as a representative of men" but I mean.... he did everything the same as like 98% of the men I've ever dated so...). But I was getting flustered and having a panic attack.... I wanted to calm down before I left the car but he kept just pushing the topic and making me more anxious. Finally he said something so incredibly fucked up that it made me snap into full black out panic mode, but managed to leave the car: "then let me see your breasts". Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope. I got out exclaiming how fucked up it was. I was shaking. I was shaking so hard it hurt. My heart was racing as I ran upstairs to my apartment. I don't remember chaining my door but I must have. I felt unsafe. I felt violated. I shook and shook and tried to reach my person. He finally texted me back and managed to talk me down enough that I could get to sleep. I did, after all, have to work in the morning. Waking up was painful. Getting ready was painful. I didn't feel comfortable in my skin. My skeleton wanted to leave my body. I opted for a casual outfit and light makeup because I felt like if I dressed nicely, something else bad might happen. I am still feeling like I can't dress the way I want to right now. Like somehow this was my fault for showing my body. On my way to work I had posted something to my Instagram about how boundaries are meant to be respected and that it was not fair that it had happened to me. That I should be expected to concede on my personal boundaries to make someone else happy. That's been my entire life so far, so tbh I'm pretty shocked that I managed to stand my ground on this one. But I did. And then the comments started. Eye roll emojis... references to trauma I had spoken of... references to my partner not being on his level.... he deleted them, of course, because why not gaslighting as well as trauma. I once again explained via text that what he did was incredibly fucked up, and he continued to say that he had treated me fairly - which I would have agreed with until the point he said show me your boobs, but apparently that was just a tactic to get me out of his car. I said I understood that he was out - it fucking sucked because I actually liked him and if he had the patience to maybe wait one more date I would have granted him that ever sought after kiss, but I have the feeling he wouldn't have stopped there. He lorded all the money he had spent on me over me. He had also done that the night before, approximately 30 minutes after we had discussed that I don't appreciate when people do things like that, because if you're going to do good, you do it out of the kindness of your heart. I left the remaining comments up on the post because accountability is important to me. He posted one more comment calling me a clown, and added to his insta story a single image of the clown emoji on a black background. I screencapped that one, but again, I'm not a character assassin so I'll refrain from including it in this. I'm only writing to help manage this trauma. I'm blocked now. I've also blocked him on insta. I have all his texts apparently, but it's best not to obsess over this any more. I've already wasted an entire day feeling bad. It hurts, but I'll get over it. I'm sure in a year I won't even remember his name. And he'll still be bitter like a Springfield lemon.

[freelancewriterbarbie]

Why Teens Shouldn’t Run Revolutions

Hi guys. I’m going to piss off a lot of YA writers (and possibly readers) today, so hang onto your hats.

Mainly, if you’re in love with the idea of a high schooler with no strategic or combat experience heading up a revolution or war because they’re “so dedicated and determined,” don’t read this. Please, don’t. You’re not going to see anything you like. Go ahead and keep enjoying your guilty pleasure – that’s fine. I’m not going to own up to some of the guilty pleasures I love in fiction but don’t buy for a second in real life. That’s chill. Go for it, man.

But there are just things that I – and readers like me – are tired of seeing. If you’re sick of that trope, then keep reading. If you’re open to the idea of ditching that trope in your writing, then I really recommend reading.

This assessment/collection of tips on why teens shouldn’t run revolutions - and if you’re going to make them, how they CAN do it well - will include comparisons to history, other fiction (Unplugged), and Black Butler. Plus swearing and a range of incorrect capitalizations, because it’s fun.

On we go:

A short message to the book, Unplugged:

You know why you have to be 18-years-old before they let you join the military in the U.S.? Because high schoolers shouldn’t be allowed to even clean a machine that’s being involved in war – let alone run the goddamn campaign. You’ve already proven beyond a shadow of doubt you can’t handle the social battles of the school halls; how the hell are you going to handle the complexities of a war?

…Unplugged has me in a bit of a dither.

Why Teens and Children Shouldn’t Be Allowed to Run Wars or Rebellions: 

Your crush rejects you and your day (or days) is ruined. Someone says something mean to you and it not only requires four paragraphs (20 minutes to 2 hours) of reflecting, self-pitying, and self-doubt, but can possibly affect you chapters (days to weeks or even months) later.

What does this mean? You haven’t learned how to compartmentalize yet. War requires compartmentalization! Dividing yourself from your seat of power; dividing your personal life from your professional life. Learning to put real and legitimate trials of the heart on the back burner because they’re not a priority.  

To the teen protagonist of Unplugged and plenty of teen protags like her: you got manipulated into offering up your body because your sister asked you nicely – the sister you haven’t seen in over a decade and who just said to your face she was going to off you! Who cares if you love her or if there are emotional tugs. You’re not grounded enough in your own standards and what you are and aren’t willing to put up with to start a war! You’re easily swayed!

Why Other Fiction Needs to Dodge This Problem: 

Don’t let this chick sit at a negotiation table; she’ll hand over the cause because someone appealed to her personal sense of morality. If you start a war, you better be so damn convinced of it that no counter argument could possibly sway you. If you think there exists a counter argument that could – then Don’t. Start. The. Damn. War.  

Or at the very least – don’t be in charge of the damn war! Put someone far more convinced than you at the head of the army or cause! Someone more emotionally well balanced and founded who can handle the war as a general and not as a person. This isn’t high school where we’re supposed to find our emotional foundation – you need to have it before you get started.

History and Real Teen or Child Rulers/Leaders/Conquerors: 

But okay. Okay. Look back at history – there have been plenty of young rulers, leaders, and conquerors. Age doesn’t matter in and of its self. But you know what the difference is?

Those teens were RAISED for the job. From age five or even younger, they were groomed to be exactly what they became – by people who already held the position they’re achieving. Tribal warrior teen? Was taught how to kill and defend their village since they could walk. Conquering prince at the age of 10? He had a father, and a team of advisers, and countless other GENERALS, and KINGS, and GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS who TRAINED him since a young age. Not the most cliché suburban family ever! People who devoted their whole career to understanding the art of GOVERNMENT, and WAR, and RULING. Not people who attend Tupperware parties, talk about politics they’ve only heard about on TV – and as mere dinner conversation – and whose most defining characteristic is telling you to eat all your veggies because children in Africa would love to have that food (back at you, Unplugged).

Those child or teen leaders didn’t learn social studies and history and math so maybe they could become a janitor, or an artist, or a doctor, or ‘who knows, they have time to decide.’ They learned social studies so they could understand how SOCIETY and HUMANS worked, so they could RULE them or CONQUER them. They learned history so they could take point from PREVIOUS RULERS AND CONQUERORS on how to do the job. They learned math so they could better form GOVERNMENT POLICY and STRATEGIZE in war. They accomplish the task of ruling and warring well because that’s what they’ve specialized in for YEARS.

The point comes down to this: Why Time Counts:

Here’s how it goes averagely: High schoolers do their high school thing, they hit 18, they join the military, they spend the next decade or so learning all that war shit and SLOWLY rising through the ranks as they PROVE themselves. As they gain EXPERIENCE. Most of it is spent doing push-ups, cleaning shit, and following express orders to the very T, because being a free-thinking individual doesn’t work when there are lives and countries at stake and you don’t have the EXPERIENCE yet to make a solid call on that kind of shit.

THEN after YEARS and even DECADES of experience, through which you’ve watched the LEAD of others, you MAYBE get to be high ranking enough to make judgment calls. Or calls at all. After years of specialized practice, teaching, and training, you get to lead wars.

That’s the facts, jack.

So let’s say, for the sake of simplicity, it takes you ten years of this rigorous shit to earn that status.

Teen warriors in the past? Why do they get to do it as teens? Because they are 14 and they ‘joined’ when they were fucking four. Not 18. So they don’t have to be 28 before that shit happens because they GOT THEIR 10 YEARS IN EARLY. NOW they’re ready to lead.

Modern day high schooler protagonist? You’re 16, or EVEN 18, and you haven’t had any of those 10 years. Even if you just had one year of experience, IT’S NOT 10. You are a four-year-old in the eyes of that 14-year-old historical conquer as far as experience goes. That 14-year-old is 28 in your eyes as far as experience goes.

Why Maturity Matters, and How You Can Have a Child Body But an Adult Mind:

By the time you’re 28, you’re probably passed the teen romance and ‘finding yourself’ state. NOW you’re qualified.

That 14-year-old historical leader? Didn’t even start that. Cut that whole portion out of their life. They went from four to 18 with no middle ground at all, and hit the tarmac running. That is the trade-off of being a child leader.

Want your teen romance and soul searching time? That’s good. Do that. But don’t expect to run a war at the same time because those two things need to be COMPLETELY REMOVED FROM ONE ANOTHER.

Is it sad that kid didn’t get a childhood? Sure. But that’s the trade-off of running a war at 14. You can fit an adult brain in a child’s body, but that means you have to get rid of the child’s brain. If you want to be a child’s age and still be a leader, then you need to get rid of the CHILD MENTALITY. Adults run wars. Children don’t run wars. So that 14-year-old becomes an insta-adult.

Does this fuck someone up? It can. It really can. So if you think it’s going to fuck you up, wait until you’re older. If you think it’s going to fuck up someone you know? Don’t let them start a war, and/or hand the war off to someone else and let the kid continue in their childhood.

Experience, Experience, Experience:

Dear teen protag, you’re not even out of high school, and as early as last week your biggest worry was, “Does my crush know I exist?” AND NOW YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU’RE READY TO BE THE BEST GENERAL THERE EVER WAS? AND SPEARHEAD A REVOLUTION?

Determination is all fine and dandy, sweetheart, that’s great. BUT PEOPLE WHO HAVE DONE THIS THEIR WHOLE LIFE ARE GOING TO TRUMP THE EVER LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU. Maybe they’re not as determined as you. Maybe they’re not even as dedicated as you. But put someone who plays Monopoly every day, all day, and has for years, up against someone who’s NEVER played but REALLY wants to win.

Who is going to manage their money better? Who is going to know which properties are really valuable? Who’s going to talk you out of your properties, and then have no problem being cut-throat in trading in return because THEY KNOW HOW TO WIN? Who knows how to drag out the game until you’re so bored and confused that you mess up or quit? The player who plays every day is used to the rules and used to PLAYING the other PLAYERS. If they didn’t, THEY WOULDN’T PLAY MONOPOLY SO MUCH.

You. Need. Experience. You can’t even become a doctor without years of training and specialized practice. You can’t even become a JANITOR without experience. You might be able to bullshit your way through an interview to become a janitor, and be a damn fine one once you have, but this is fucking war. Against enemies who are better prepared, have been better prepared for LONGER, and have experience on you. The stakes are higher and people are specifically hunting for your failures. You are going to lose and people are going to die for it. Congrats.

You Need to Be Emotionally Well-Balanced, and Bounce Back:

Hi, Unplugged and similar protagonists, me again.

You’re too susceptible to shock. Your heart rises to your throat every time something bad happens or you’re caught off guard. Bull. You need to have a ‘I didn’t predict that, but I’m not surprised’ mentality for everything.

It’s okay to not see things coming. It’s okay if it catches you off guard sometimes. But you need to never be SURPRISED. Surprised means you NEVER CONSIDERED EVEN THE POSSIBILITY. Even if you didn’t know what that possibility was, know that there is an unknown factor you didn’t account for – and leave some room for overflow just in case!

You know who’s capable of that? People with an adult-level of maturity in their brains. Tell a kid that the bills won’t be made that month. Kid will flip the fuck out. Crying, worrying, trouble sleeping, sickness even. Can’t handle it. Just can’t handle that responsibility or that stress or that fear.

Why does your mom not act like this if the paycheck is short for the bills? Because she may not have expected it – she may panic a little – but she isn’t shocked by the idea that money can be short, that work can be short, that bills can sometimes be missed. It’s not a mind blowing concept.

She’s. Learned. How. To. Manage. Stress. She’s learned to anticipate problems, and create a savings, or negotiate with the landlord, or get another job. She has the forethought to be able to look and find the solution rather than drowning in the now. Drowning in the now causes you to make decisions for NOW, not the FUTURE.

That’s why MOMS are in charge of the bills. That’s why CHILDREN are not. Your teen protagonist’s mom is probably better equipped to run the revolution than them. Which brings me to the next point:

Striking the Teen or Child Leader Balance: TEACHERS and SUPPORT:

Give Them Qualified Teaches – and Don’t Bully-ify Them

You want a child or teen revolutionary leader? Cool. Give them experience from the start.

Want a teen with no experience before the moment the war started? DON’T PUT THEM IN CHARGE OF IT.

If you’re going to put them in charge of it, SURROUND THEM BY PEOPLE WHO KNOW WHAT THE HELL THEY’RE DOING.

Then make the teachers have an invested interest in TEACHING THEM, not just proving them wrong. Sure, maybe they’ll be resentful as shit that some cosmic reason has put the kid in charge and not them, but after that, they’ll start MOLDING the child to be as good as THEY would’ve been. Why? Because if they weren’t capable of putting their own emotions aside and both evaluating and pursing what was best for the CAUSE or the WAR, they wouldn’t be in their position of power!

Don’t Make Them Better Than Their Teachers

Having all the qualified people ooh and awe about how much smarter the kid is than them doesn’t give them legitimacy. Having the kid trump them at everything beyond the odds doesn’t add legitimacy. It makes those ‘qualified people’ look stupid.

They wouldn’t be qualified if a kid could trump them in the first, second, or third try. One of those teachers was once the prodigy if they’re in charge of teaching you, the causes’s next leader and final great hope. Now they’re 40 and still a prodigy. They have 25 years and that prodigy-ness on you. They’re better than you. The teacher has to be better than the student to explain why the student is improving at all. Don’t have the kid blow them out of the water at every turn.

If the kid knocks a ball out of the park against the predictions of the other generals, make it RARE, and EXCEPTIONAL, and something others acknowledge as JUST THAT. Make it “you’ll make a great general SOME DAY with that attitude.” “You made a good call THIS TIME, kid.” “You’re going to be better than me WHEN YOU’RE MY AGE.” Don’t make their moment of rare triumph an immediate shift of power from those older, more experienced, and more qualified.

Nobody is Suddenly Expert Level at Something

You like high school YA stories? Great! Let’s put it in that context.

Instead of one teacher vs. 30 students, you have 30 teachers vs. your own main character student. Their lives hinge on making sure that kid gets as smart as them.

How ridiculous would it be if a 2nd grader was thrown in a class and they just KNEW math without ever once doing a problem before? Better yet, they know it better than their nuclear physicist of a teacher after a month? No. Don’t do that. 

If after a few months of lessons, the teacher says to do the problems with ONE FORMULA, and the kid messes around with a NEW FORMULA and gets the SAME ANSWER – then good for the kid! The kid will get accolades and acknowledgment that they did something right all by themselves against the odds. Great.

Then they use the formula for something else and get the wrong answer. That’s natural. There’s a reason the teacher uses one formula. That’s fine. They’re still learning. BUT THEY SHOULDN’T TRUMP THEIR TEACHER AFTER A FEW TRIES, and NOT EVERY SINGLE TIME GOING FORWARD.

They Can Be Ahead of the Game – But Can’t Win the Game Immediately

After six years of lessons from that nuclear physicist, maybe they’re as good as a college freshmen. Sure, because they’ve had specialized training from a super qualified professional(s). I’ll buy that. But first there has to be TRAINING, and TIME, and by the RIGHT PEOPLE.

You can make your kid character a prodigy – but what is the thing about prodigies? They find a mentor and excel like hell. There aren’t prodigies who just can DO math without someone ever showing them numbers. There aren’t prodigies who can play the piano well without ever even listening or watching someone else play. They do better than normal, but they don’t become great or successful without some direction from others.

Surround your character with talented people – lots of them – and give them years to learn. THEN, yes, you will springboard them ahead of the norm. An 18-year-old soldier fresh from high school, with normal training and teaching, is not going to be at 20 what someone who has had specialized focus from the top minds since 18 will be.

Point in Practice:

Black Butler

Look at Ciel Phantomhive from Black Butler.

The kid is 10 when he starts his goal to become an Earl, with absolutely zero experience – even in tying his own shoes. Not just an Earl, but also an Earl the Queen trusts to handle shit she can’t trust anyone else with. Complicated shit. Shit involving bad guys that are way more experienced, resourceful, and talented than even the Queen’s top guys. Tall order, right?

How does Ciel achieve this position realistically in two years?

He has a 5,000 year old demon with crazy vast knowledge who decided to make him its fucking pet project. It also has magic on its side to make sure its TEACHING abilities are SUPER ON POINT (note that it’s about its TEACHING abilities, not its ‘bibbity, bobbity, boo, I’ve expanded your brain capacity and infused you with all the knowledge you need’ magic. It’s going to TEACH HIM, so it’s made ITSELF the BEST TEACHER in existence). Cool. You’re ALLOWED to USE WORLD BUILDING to your advantage, but use it REALISTICALLY.

Ciel now has an ADVANTAGE over other people in his position. World building has made sure he has 50 super EXPERIENCED and TALENTED and SMART teachers smashed into ONE creature whose purpose in life for the next few years is making sure HE’S PREPARED AND QUALIFIED FOR THE JOB.

BUT GUESS WHAT? It still takes TIME. And DEDICATION. And EFFORT. Not dedication in achieving the goal he wants to complete when he’s done – BUT DEDICATION TO GETTING READY TO EVEN HAVE A SHOT AT IT.

Ciel’s school days become 24/7. In isolation. For two whole years (technically one and a half, but the training doesn’t stop there. It continues more lightly for a total of three years). Super smart demon dude has his UNDIVIDED ATTENTION for YEARS. And he’s mercilessly rigorous on him. Corporal punishment if he doesn���t pick something up well or if he messes up. Gives him MOTIVATION to IMPROVE not only because he has NO OTHER CHOICE because of ISOLATION. Not only because he WANTS to be QUALIFIED to achieve his goal. But also because the demon makes it PAINFUL and DANGEROUS not to improve.  

Part two? FOCUSED TRAINING! Demon dude didn’t teach him how to tie his shoes, or make his own breakfast, or even how to bath himself. That was all fluff and nonsense cut out to make room for the skills and knowledge he needed to be QUALIFIED FOR HIS TARGET POSITION OF POWER. Demon dude handled all that fluff HIMSELF, so Ciel’s brain was vacant enough to be filled with JUST THE SHIT HE NEEDED.

Ciel had no romances. He had no friends. He had no time to sunbath or read for fun or take a day off. The VERY DAY after he made his deal – WHILE HE WAS STILL INJURED, STARVED, AND MALNOURISHED – his INTENSE training began.

Part three: The kid gave up his childhood or even the thought of HAVING or WANTING a childhood so he could do this. He dumped the child mentality entirely. He dumped that perspective on maturity completely. He aimed immediately for adulthood and started acting like an adult. He became an adult MENTALLY, because you can have a child body and an adult mind if YOU WANT IT and if you FORCE IT TO HAPPEN. He accepted teaching on how to be an adult from a creature that was 5,000 years old – and learned to be a ruthless one at that. His determination was on something that would ACTUALLY IMPROVE HIM and make him QUALIFIED FOR THE JOB. ONLY AN ADULT COULD DO THE JOB so he MADE himself AN ADULT.

Why did Ciel make this happen REALISTICALLY in TWO YEARS even though he was TEN YEARS OLD?

Because his training was INTENSE ON ONLY WHAT HE NEEDED. His training was CONSTANT AND ALL-ENCOMPASSING OF HIS LIFE. And he had someone MORE THAN QUALIFIED THAT WAS TEACHING HIM WITH AN EXTREME DEDICATION TO MAKING SURE HE COULD DO THE JOB. Not to mention that he made himself an adult and put an end to any scrap of that child level of himself.

The demon is STILL smarter than him. The demon STILL ties his shoes, helps him make judgment calls, and does all his fighting for him, because:

There’s a reason Sebastian was so qualified to teach Ciel. There’s no way Ciel is going to reach the demon’s level without all of Sebastian’s knowledge and EXPERIENCE earned through TIME.

Sebastian didn’t train him to BE AN ALL POWERFUL, SUPER TALENTED, UNSTOPPABLE DEMON. He trained him to be AN EARL capable of doing WHAT THE QUEEN WANTED and only what THAT JOB needed. If he trained Ciel to become a demon of his caliber, it WOULD NOT have happened in two years (or at all, since world building dictated just that, but also) because it didn’t happen for SEBASTIAN in that time.

If you want your character to be exceptional, then you need exceptional reasons for it. Not that they’re a special snowflake – but that real world EXCEPTIONAL things happened to EQUIP them for that! The EFFORT it took to be exceptional has to MATCH the level of EXCEPTIONAL the CHARACTER IS.  

Let’s say it louder for the people in the back:

The EFFORT it took TO BE EXCEPTIONAL has to MATCH THE LEVEL of EXCEPTIONAL the CHARACTER IS.  

Again!

THE EFFORT IT TOOK TO BE EXCEPTIONAL HAS TO MATCH THE LEVEL OF EXCEPTIONAL THE CHARACTER IS.  

Prodigy means “better off than others.” Not “already accomplished the goal.” You might have a head start, but you still have to run the damn race.

The race to being qualified enough to head a damn revolution!

In Closing: 

There’s a reason revolutions today aren’t led by 16-year-olds. There’s a reason why real child soldiers don’t act anything like children. If you want to have a YA novel with a teen or child heading a revolution, then be aware that TEENS AND CHILDREN DON’T DO THAT. If they do that, they’re not teens or children anymore. They’re adults in young bodies. That transition requires a great deal of effort and changes both their personality and their approach to life.

Furthermore, even after their hurdle, not getting slaughtered in a war means being good at warring. You don’t get good at warring easily, quickly, or without guidance. “Determination” is not an explanation for why someone is capable of something. That explains WHY they took the STEPS to BECOMING capable. The STEPS need to make sense. Make your character take STEPS.

This has been a rant. Hope you enjoyed it, found it useful, found it funny, or, if you didn’t heed my first warning – will keep all your death threats grammatically correct.

Laters!