#i don't even have anything else to look forward to or distract myself with which makes it even worse

[perceptivehands]

why do i care so much about fictional characters jfc

[hunnylagoon]

When I Was Your Girl

Stage Fright

Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader

‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’

Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.

Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick

Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes

I've never been anything more than a joke.

I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.

Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar. 

"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."

"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.

"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"

She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."

"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."

Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"

She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."

I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.

She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."

I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.

"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.

I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."

The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"

"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."

He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"

"Nope."

"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny. 

"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.

As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.

I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.

I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place. 

Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.

Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.

His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.

"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him. 

"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.

"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.

"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.

"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.

My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.

I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.

When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.

I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.

Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.

The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.

It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers. 

I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.

Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.

If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.

My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.

Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.

She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.

I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.

I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.

Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.

"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."

Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.

Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement. 

"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.

Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.

I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.

Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.

At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."

The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.

I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."

I lived for the applause.

"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-

Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.

"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.

Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing

The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.

Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.

"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.

She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.

My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.

I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.

"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.

"I am so beyond grateful-

"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."

Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.

"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”

It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.

"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"

People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.

 "Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.

I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."

"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.

I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.

After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.

Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."

Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.

Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.

Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.

I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.

That was the night I truly became famous.

Grade eight- Age thirteen 

Middle school is hard.

Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.

I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.

Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.

In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life

"If you gave me only one wish,

I wouldn't want to feel this way.

They told me I'd have your memory

But all I want is you to stay

And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,

It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,

I wanted you to know."

I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain

This beautiful pain for you."

However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.

"If I sailed the world on stormy seas

Chasing sunlight that I can't see.

I was a dreamer here before,

Before I woke up and fell to the floor

And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,

Even with a scar this butterfly flew.

I wanted you to know."

I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day, these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."

Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.

"And all I'll ever need

And all I'll ever be,

Within every part of me is this,

This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.

This beautiful pain,

This beautiful pain,

This beautiful pain,

For you."

As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.

The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.

I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather. 

He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.

It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.

"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.

"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.

"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"

"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.

"What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"

I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.

"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."

"I sang at the talent show today."

"And?"

"Everyone made fun of me."

He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"

"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.

"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."

"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.

"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"

I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."

"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.

After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.

When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"

"I dunno."

"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."

"So what do I do?"

"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."

Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.

I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"

I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?" 

-

Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out

     woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself

     theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole

     user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails

conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.

     Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music

     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom

     hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.

     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé

     hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me

     maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.

stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?

      Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy

      Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn

thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album

     dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝

    call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????

    follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?

    ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔

     call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis

sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.

   mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist

    mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't

bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested

  carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system

    may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom

   body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF 

charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING

juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.

botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.

    karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.

carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????

katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene

howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.

   elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious

  3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke

allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV

jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh

hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll

4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice

sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.

carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed

    elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid

     carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔

"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.

"Well, it's not really my fault."

"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"

My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-

"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.

"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."

"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."

I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.

I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.

[mistress-of-malevolence]

Okay, so I read a lot of scollace fics and sometimes they have Scott get a job or got a job off screen. I like this, but realistically he would not.

Unless

And hear me out-

____mini fic____

Wallace was sitting in his chair reading a book while Scott sat on the floor playing a video game. The ambiant 'boops' and 'beeps' sounding off in time with the soft clicking of buttons under Scott's thumbs. It was peaceful, like any other night. Like every other night, really, which is exactly why Wallace was annoyed. It had been years of this. When they first moved in together, it was only supposed to be for a few weeks. Then a few weeks turned into a few months, then an indefinite amount of time until Scott was back on his feet. It's been years of this, and while Wallace doesn't mind that much to have Scott as his sugar baby, it does frustrate him how absolutely shameless he is about it.

"when are you going to get a job?" He asks without looking away from his book, breaking the comfortable silence.

"uhh... Soon..." Scott answers, distracted by his game.

"how soon is 'soon', guy?"

"uh... Um... At some point?"

Wallace let's slip a sigh, more annoyance in it than he meant. "Even if this apartment is crappy, it's not cheap for me to pay for it plus everything else myself, you know. If you don't get a job, I'm going to kick you out."

"Pssh" the redhead lets out a dismissive noise. "You always say that, you're not going to kick me out."

More video game sounds come from the tv.

Wallace doesn't say anything to retort that, he knows he's not wrong. Why him? Why did he have to care about this moron so much to the point he'd let him ruin his life?

Scott continues "Besides, do I even really need a job? Once my band gets popular, I'll have tons of money and we can move into an even better place than this."

"Your band sucks, Guy." Wallace retorts dryly.

"Hey! Does not, you're just being a hater."

The room falls back into that silence again, the only sound to be heard is that from the TV and the clicking of Scott's controller.

This is how it always goes. Seems that even the threat of kicking him out has lost its weight with the frequency of Wallace using it yet never backing it up. Should he actually do it this time? He wouldn't kick Scott out for real, but maybe he could change the locks while having Stacy get him out of the house? A night outside might get his ass in Gear. But then again, probably not.

Wallace was at a loss. Maybe this was it. Maybe he'd be resigned to letting Scott Pilgrim mooch off of him for the rest of his days, all because he was cute and stupid.

Wallace looked up from his book finally, resting his head in one hand as he studied the back of his roommate. No shame. Not an ounce to be seen in his body language. One had to wonder how such an unmotivated idiot made it this far. The fact he was even still alive was probably thanks to Wallace and yet he didn't seem to feel like he was doing anything wrong by letting him take care of him. He just sits there, playing his video game without a care in the world.

Wallace shifts his gaze to the screen, it's a sonic game, though he isn't sure which one.

Yep. Not a care in the world. Wallace was almost jealous of that. Oh how blissful it must be to be so ignorant.

The silence stretched on for a while, until without thinking anything of it, Wallace muttered under his breath "... Sonic would want you to get a job."

Suddenly, a game over noise sounded off from the TV, Scott was still as a statue.

"uh, Scott?" Wallace tried after a beat passed and he still hadn't started playing again.

"yoohoo? Earth to Scottie?" Wallace leaned forward and waved a hand in front of the younger man's face. This managed to get Scott's attention, as he quickly turned his head to look Wallace in the face.

"You really think Sonic would want me to get a job?"

Wallace stared back into his roommates eyes, his own crinkling with mischief as the idea hit is brain.

A week later, Scott Pilgrim would start going out to apply for jobs.

____

And yeah, that's basically how I think that would happen.

Thanks for reading I guess, I didn't mean to write a whole one shot but here we are.

[look-a-yandere-fandom-blog]

Denial | Oneshot

_________________________________

The Obsessed / Gender Neutral Reader

Fandom: Middle Earth: Shadow of War 

_________________________________

Romantic Yandere.

_________________________________

Content Warning: Violence, stalking, delusional/obsessive/possessive behaviour, blood.

(If there’s anything else I need to add to these warnings, please let me know.)

I once told myself that I'd never write anything LOTR-adjacent because of the huge amount of lore surrounding it and fear of messing something up...

Apparently, I lied XD

I'll admit, this one's kinda OC-ish, as the obsessed are randomly generated rather than fully fledged characters, but I tried to keep it close to their in-game personalities/dialog.

How well did that go? No idea. Enjoy anyways!

_________________________________

Watch.

That is all you are here to do.

To survey. To observe. To gather intel.

To listen in on grumbled conversations and examine strongholds for weaknesses.

To keep your distance, and stay out of sight.

Travelling in the lands of Mordor is a perilous task. The dangers of which you are well aware of. It's terrain harsh and unforgiving. It's inhabitants even more so. You know the risks of getting caught.

Which is why your heart stops at the glint of a weapon overhead.

"A scout, eh? You pinkskins can't help sneakin' around where ya don't belong."

Your hand lunges for the sword at your hip, conjuring it just in time to block the downward swing. An axe meets your blade, the cold clatter echoing in the dark.

You look up, and a pair of beady eyes meet yours. Vivid yellow, almost aglow in the dying light of a nearby fire, set behind a worn helmet, its once-shining gleam reduced to a dull grey.

With a sidestep, you pull your blade back. The orc's weapon charging to the floor, but hitting nothing in its journey.

You glance around, searching for the safest escape route, your peripheral vision impaired by your cloak's hood. Your best chance is to get away from this outpost. Staying to fight means that others may become involved. Already at a disadvantage here, you are in no hurry to worsen your predicament.

However, the orc is blocking your path. You have to make it past him first.

A grumble sounds from the orc as he works to dislodge his axe from the ground. Curses are hissed under his breath, before it is yanked up in a flurry of dirt and dust. Focused on regaining his footing, he is distracted.

Holding your sword firmly, you sprint as an opening is given. The wind whistles in your ears as your soles hit the earth.

Mid-stride, his claws snatch your cloak.

You yelp, suddenly jerked back. As the fabric tears, he grabs for your forearm instead.

Sharp nails dig into your flesh. Indents left in their wake. Your wrist is kept in place, to stop you from ramming your sword into him.

He raises his weapon but...

It does not fall.

He stares. Baring his teeth as his eyes waver. Chest rising and falling steadily.

In your terror, you cannot make sense of it. He should have struck by now. He should have buried that blood-stained steel into your skull. Why does he not? Why does he wait?

The axe moves down slowly, agonisingly. Only centimetres from your face. A few specks of dirt land on your skin. The point is hooked under the hem of your hood.

He nudges the axe forward, bit by bit, until your hood falls back, collapsing around your neck. The fire's light glazes your features, illuminating your bewilderment.

There is a quiet noise from beneath his helm, a hum, while his head tilts to the side. His eyes flicker back and forth, scanning what they have found. An animal analysing its catch.

Then, he leans in. With his weapon still so close, you do not dare to retaliate, should he be spurred to attack.

The orc's helmet bumps against your forehead; an icy contrast to the warmth of your skin. Nose to nose.

Seconds tick by in silence. He seems to be settling, nearly dazed in demeanour. A million thoughts hovering behind his distant gaze which you do not know. And you hope you never will.

A single word is mumbled, almost subconsciously, barely heard over your own panic.

"Mine..."

His axe lowers, hanging loosely by his side...

You take your opportunity.

A kick to the leg and his balance is shaken. You wrench your arm from his hold, drawing blood as his nails scrape across your flesh.

Without looking back, you run.

You run until you cannot breathe. Until you are far from that outpost. Until you are far from him.

In the days after, you shove the encounter out of your mind. Nothing new can be discovered by wondering. Recalling the experience over and over will not reveal any unknown truths.

Yet, as you set yourself back to work, something feels... different.

Wherever you venture, there is the sensation of something watching you. Hiding in the bushes, perching atop a tower, lurking in the dark.

Never free of it. Never a moment without it.

You chalk it up to nerves. Merely the weight of your post getting to you. Besides, if you were found, it would be more efficient to bluntly attempt to kill you. There is no need for an enemy to spy on a scout.

You tell yourself that it is naught but fear. Pathetic fear. Again and again. Till you almost believe it.

Thankfully, you soon need to report to your superiors. Leaving this place should give you a few days of freedom from the poisoning paranoia of Mordor's lands.

The world is quiet as you take cautious steps across the night, approaching the border into Gondor; staying far from every fortress and outpost you know.

It is not entirely silent. The sounds of unseen creatures and distant altercations resound in the shadows. Leaves rustle upon trees. Rocks crunch and clink under foot. Your torn cloak flutters like a bird's wings behind you.

There is an odd security in the isolation. A comfort in the solitude. You feel alone. For the first time in days, you feel completely and entirely alone.

Until you spot them...

Eyes. Yellow eyes. Watching you.

A shaky breath of disbelief leaves your lungs. The chance of encountering him again, all the way out here, is too small to be coincidence. He followed you. No doubt in your mind. But for what purpose, you have no clue.

The figure emerges as his lips curve up into a crinkled grin. Armour outlined by a dull sheen in the moonlight.

The confusion that filled his expression during your previous encounter has been replaced. His eyes flicker instead with an unnerving resolution. A determination that you cannot place the source of.

In a moment of déjà vu, you reach for your sword.

"Identify yourself, orc." Clutching your blade tightly, as though a lifeline, you demand an explanation, a name to the spectre that has haunted your every step.

"Ratak." The figure responds simply. No statement of purpose, nor who he serves. Only a name.

"And what do you seek?" You urge, refusing to let your guard down.

He giggles, as though you were silly for even asking.

"You o'course, love."

His voice is different. No longer the threatening sneer heard when you first met. Now, it is horrifyingly casual. As though what he speaks were common knowledge.

Your eyes narrow, angered.

"Do you think me a fool?" A hiss snaps from you, now glowering at him. "What are you here for? Why do you follow me?"

"I've told ya already, I'm here for you..."

He is insistent. Unchanging in his conviction. You refuse to believe it. You cannot. You do not want to.

Starting to feel uneasy, your words become sharper.

"Enough with the games, orc-!"

"Games? You're the one that's been toying with me, love... Makin' me chase you about... always runnin' off before I can get close..."

The orc treads forward, and you swiftly put more space between you and him. A growl-like noise seeps from his pointed teeth.

"Cruel thing... lettin' me catch you, hold you next to me... and then scurrying away..." Accusatory notes seep into his voice as he continues to step closer and closer.

Envy swirls in his ribs. Aching. Ratak's mind enveloped by this feeling. A bleeding ache, festering in your time apart. Every backward step you take sends his thoughts spiralling.

"Why d'ya run, hm? Is there someone else keepin' you from me? Another uruk? A bloody human?" His tone distorts, laced with a jealousy you never imagined that you would see in the flesh.

Ratak would be ashamed of himself, humiliated by how desperate he is acting, could he only think clearly. If his every thought was not preoccupied with that flittering encounter from nights before. If his fingertips were not still stained with your blood. If that pain in his ribs could only stop.

"I am tired of this, orc." You cut off his jilted questions, stuck in your denial. More willing to dismiss his delusional words than ponder the sincerity behind them. "Leave me be. I would rather not have to fight you."

The orc falls still. Hands twitching as he processes your words.

Leave. You want to leave? To scamper away from him again? To make him want to keep you and then cause this suffering in his chest and then... then..!

In a storm of rage, you plummet to the forest floor. The air is knocked out of your lungs as he lands atop you.

"You just won't bloody listen!" He yells, spittle falling into your face. "Your stupid 'duty' and all that's keeping you from stayin' with me, isn't it?"

The point of your sword is aimed to his torso as he looms over you, his hands pinning your shoulders. Ratak does not pay the blade any attention, as though oblivious to it, consumed by his fury.

"You're givin' your loyalty to those weak, worthless, human scum, when it should be mine! You should be mine!"

His frustration is beginning to break through to you. To crack through your guard of denial. Every word feels genuine, feels weighted; the emotion behind it far too strong to be an act.

"Can you not hear yourself?! Your claims are ludicrous-"

"Ludicrous? Ludicrous!" He cuts you off, indignant. "I don't care if I'm bein' ludicrous! You're the one who's makin' me feel like this, you can bloody deal with it!"

Ratak's breaths are heavy, ragged, his face contorted. He pushes himself closer, the sword starting to pierce his skin.

But, despite the weapon pointed to it, the pain in his chest dissipates. Slowly but steadily. He leans closer, it fades a little more.

Nervousness builds as you look up at him. Stunned as he leans in, drops of dark blood trailing down the blade and onto your fingers, the edge slicing his flesh.

Until, finally, the metal of his helm reaches your forehead once again.

Not enough.

He reluctantly removes a hand from your shoulder, tugging his helmet off and tossing it aside.

Returning to your skin, his hand coils around your throat. The action reminiscent of distorted affection, yet also an unspoken threat.

Now, the orc lays his head over yours. His thin, wiry, hair falls to either side of your face, his anger fizzling to a quiet rumble of thunder rather than a blazing hurricane.

"Love..." he mutters the nickname. Despite the word's unfamiliarity, it feels right to him.

"My love, we... we both know you're s'posed to be mine... they don't matter anymore, no one else does... it's you and me..."

Ratak's claws against your neck, your sword pressed to his heart. His fingertips stained red, and yours stained black.

Both trapped, held at each other's mercy.

"Just you and me... for ever..."

_________________________________

[sout999]

adhd talk

the third truly unsung project alongside my film and dissertation was the weird amount of targeted effort i had to put into Completing Anything Big As A Neurodivergent Person Whose Brain Is A Crazy Off The Rails Train Staffed and Patronised Entirely By Multiple Exact Copies Of The Squirrel From Ice Age

which is a description like 99/100 people reading this can relate to, but i think a sentiment i see less often and therefore feel kind of stupid and stubborn and lonesome about is "adhd is innate but is also exasperated by hectic lifestyle/modern instant gratification machines so if i fix my habits around those i can cure myself forever". which is silly and wrong but also i feel abit disconnected from adhd social media culture and cant cope just relating to it (which is all it seems to be sometimes) but learning to harness or tame it to do the things that are really important to me

i felt really cringe tbh having to look up youtube videos of HARVARD STUDENT REVEALS PRO STUDY TRICK and then narrowing it down to specifically adhd-focused study videos and keeping a planner and setting aside specific time to study studying and practising anti-academic meltdown journaling techniques and reading fucking atomic habits but i really didn't want to contribute to my abhorrent academic record following me all through undergrad. in fact i wish i had done this sooner but i was not self aware enough to consider the fact

probably the best change i made was severely cutting down or being mindful of social media time, i don't backread my tl anymore and have more moments of awareness when i find myself dumbly scrolling and realize i dont want to be doing this, and then wondering what i actually Do want to be doing. i keep a book nearby to read, and have also swapped a lot of social media time to sketching-off-pinterest time. reading about the psychology behind social media apps is also super interesting, although i always feel like a paranoid wacko conspiracy theorist talking about it. stuff like how negativity and judgemental behaviour is good for engagement (and therefore ad revenue), and how if all posts on your tl were interesting you wouldn't be as addicted to social media as you are, therefore microblogging employs a slot machine/gacha system where you "roll" for posts by logging on and hope to get a good one. it's a little full on but the more i think of it as a revolting and evil machine the more incentive i have to do something else with my time ^q^

a harder thing to do was, in the late stages of the project, the real crunch time month, avoid everything that could become a huge hyperfixation, and then eventually even minor distractions or fixations. because i know if i got super obsessed with something i'd just be up posting about it or drawing fanart. i had to bar myself from persona 3 remake and elden ring dlc and all these other shiny new releases, and the mobile games i was playing... i look forward to catching up on them now. i took up reading books a lot more because unfortunately thats just not as exciting. in the last month of film work i stopped listening to music on my computer so i wouldnt get drawing or animation ideas to distract me from film work. as of writing this i havent listened to music in like 40 days guys 😱 at the same time i am the kind of person who needs background noise to work, so i have:

watched novum's four hour hereditary video essay three times

watched novum's seven hour midsomar video essay three times

watched that one five hour bojack horseman retrospective twice

listened to audiobooks of the Britney Spears biography, Jennette McCurdy biography, three Playboy Bunny biographies (i was on some sort of lady bopgraphy kick i guess), and a few fiction books

rewatched all of bojack horseman

started on House MD and got a few seasons in before i finished the project, amazingly the perfect show to look away from bc of all the medical stuff, how many lumbar punctures do you need to show like seriously

honorable mention to the learned skill of communication and being honest and picking your battles and killing your darlings which is a larger part of managing mental illness than i cared to admit but one of the hardest ones because it involved confronting things and making big painful drastic changes and then having to tell the faculty about them. sometimes i'd be stuck on a piece of animation work for weeks/months, then go back and change the underlying idea to one i'm actually passionate about, and do the animation work in one day using newly found magical hyperfocus passion power. it's crazy! but being able to be confident about taking those steps rather than keeping on with what you're "supposed" to do went a long way.

i very much look forward to listening to a music and playing some video games properly now and being pulverized like a small victorian child from the sheer amount of fun i'm having. i'd say it was all worth it and a fun experiment in channeling the magical humours of passion and boredom and i hope it will help me with future projects too. i Am super burnt out though x__ x thanks for reading and for all your support up until now!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Complicated

Steve's version ❤️ Part Two 💕

Warnings: Heart to hearts, fwb, angst. Fluff.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Eddie had apologised since your fight, he had came over the next night, pretty wildflowers in his hands that he holds out to you.

"I'm sorry, I was a dick, Chrissy and I have been fighting... Shit thats no excuse. I was a dick. Full stop and I'm sorry"

He bites his lip and takes your hand. He looks so sorrowful that you melt.

"It's just you've never been interested in any guy and then bam there's Steve. I just got scared that maybe you'd forget all about me"

You squeeze his hand and shake your head.

"Eddie, that would never happen" he exhales looking more relieved.

"I'm still so fucking sorry sweetheart, I never should have acted like that, said that shit" he looks at you all puppy eyed and full of remorse.

You hadn't quite fully forgiven him but it was a start.

However, your thoughts had been overtaken by something else for now.

Steve.

It was like the two of you were magnets, Steve drove you to his after his work shift ended.

Robin suggested the three of you have your own movie night but she crashed somewhere during Back to the Future.

Which left you and Steve and the tension between you. To distract yourself for a minute, you looked around, heart beginning to twinge.

This house was beautiful yes, however it felt more like a show home than anything else. Steve must get lonely with his parents away all the time.

"It's beautiful but so big, I hate to think of you here and feeling alone" he softens and his fingers entwine with yours, there comes that tingle again.

The spark.

"Kinda glad my dad isn't here if I'm being honest, he's an asshole. I miss my mom sometimes. How close we used to be... Hey, wanna take this upstairs so we don't wake u up Sleeping Beauty"

Upstairs? In his bedroom? Your heart skips a beat and you nod.

"Yeah, I'd like that" he leads you upstairs and into his room, in here feels impersonal too. Not like a twenty year old lives in it and that hurts your heart even more.

"You know whenever you feel lonely, give me a call and we can just talk" You offer and he smiles as you both sit on the bed.

"I'd like that but it would be a bit of a dilemma honey because I can't stop thinking about kissing you. It's distracting" Oh.

"Well, I guess you're gonna have to kiss me Steve Harrington. I'd hate to think of you being distracted" you tease him and he chuckles and leans forward, lips meeting yours.

It doesn't take long for you to begin heatedly making out, clothes thrown hastily on the floor as you fuck relentlessly, well into the night.

💕

Ever since then the two of you have barely been apart, hot sex into the early hours until your both spent and sated. It's a distraction from all the shit going on in both of your lives.

It's easy to talk to Steve, easy to open yourself up to him, Steve takes a little more time. You don't blame him for being hesitant, he's used to caring for others so much that you don't think he ever really sits down and takes care of his own mental health.

When he does open up though it's amazing, he tells you things he's never told anyone, late night conversations that turn deeper and heartfelt.

He tells you about his parents, opens up mre about Nancy. It's nice to get to know Steve on a level that not very many people do. Except for Robin.

"With Nance there was always the feeling that she was holding back, I changed so much because of her and I'll always be grateful for that but a lot of what happened between us, it makes it hard to put myself out there"

You listen intently, head rested on his chest, he quietens for a second then speaks again.

"I spent so much time going on all of these dates, relationships based on just sex and that didn't make me happy, even if it was fun for a little while"

It hits you again how much more experienced Steve is than you. You've been hiding the fact that he's your first, he's opened up so much that you decide to do the same.

"Steve, there's something I have to tell you" he looks down at you curious and strokes your hair gently.

"What?" you take a breath and blurt it out feeling nervous for his reaction.

"You're my first, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I guess I was nervous how you'd react" his eyes widen and he softens, his hand entwining with yours.

"You never have to be nervous about anything with me sweetheart, thank you for telling me" he kisses you and those pesky butterflies fill your belly again.

💕

Steve never thought that he would be jealous of Eddie Munson, yet here he was.

Yesterday you were sitting beside Eddie, smiling at something he said and Steve felt the stirrings of intense jealousy in his veins.

Eddie was a lucky bastard and he didn't even know it. He was the object of your affection and at first Steve wasn't too fussed about that.

Now? Well, now was a different story. It was subtle at first, he just assumed that the annoyance he felt around Eddie was to do with him being a dick to you all those weeks ago.

Then came the little bursts of jealousy, stuff he could wave off and pretend that it didn't happen.

Now though? Well now there was no ignoring how he felt. Anytime he thought about your feelings for Eddie it was like a vice squeezing his chest tight.

Did you still want to be with Eddie? He was nervous as shit to ask you. Even though the two of you were growing closer and closer, the thought of asking you, of knowing the answer terrified him.

Because what if you did? He swallows, he doesn't like to think about that. He promised himself after Nancy with Jonathan that he wouldn't put himself in this sort of position again.

Yet he had.

Speaking of Nancy, he hadn't thought of her in a long time, his thoughts taken over by you. He thought about you constantly, lost himself in daydreams about you at work.

Much to Robin's amusement.

"Earth to Steve" Robin calls to him and he comes to, lost in thought about you and him last night.

"Sorry, just uh got lost in my head" he apologises and begins to stack the shelf.

"Wonder who the girl is that you're dreaming about huh?" she teases and he blushes ignoring her knowing gaze.

The door opens signalling a customer and Robin nudges him.

"Speak of the devil" she nods to you. You're with Dustin and Eddie. He feels himself light up at the sight of you and when you turn around and give him a big smile and a wink, he's putty in your hands.

Shit, he was screwed wasn't he?

💕

[tapiokauwu]

ok guys...

sorry, I disappeared yesterday because I realized that I'm splitting on my best friend and now I want to kms because my mind won't stop telling me that I should isolate myself and disappear and leave everyone alone...

I also hate that my best friend is busy but I feel guilty because damn I should be happy that she has dreams and goals... like, I know most people are not like me lol

I have nothing I can actually look forward to, I just survive, I exist on this planet, I stay at home all day and most of the time I don't even get dressed and just wear my pajamas.

I know it, I've always known that she was different from me... she always has that light in her eyes when she talks about art and she loves drawing and painting and I enjoy seeing her happy doing something that she likes...

but I don't have anything like that. I spend my days playing videogames and reading comics, fighting against mood swings and the urge to die. My whole life is just trying to escape reality and distract myself from everything. I'm always bored to death so I have to do something that keeps my mind in another world so I don't see this reality I live in.

She used to play Genshin with me but now she's busy with art school and spends most of her time drawing, she doesn't play much anymore and logins like once every month... I rarely go outside even tho we hang out once in a while, but every time we do I feel like I'm a burden and I wish I was a better person so she could feel proud of me.

I'm so fucking useless. I dropped out of highschool because it didn't matter how smart I was and how hard I tried, everything just kept falling down. Everything I try fails miserably, whether it's my fault or not. I don't feel capable of finding a job and working because I always end up having a derealization episode that lasts hours and/or feeling very physically and mentally tired after only a couple of hours (even if it's not a tiring job) and at that point I feel sick and I become inefficient. And I have to mask. I constantly have to mask. Which is VERY DRAINING.

I've always been the "weird one" and the "psycho", but there are still people like my father who say shit like that my sh is "stupid" or strangers who tell me I should stop because "it hurts"... there's nothing in between, it's always "exaggerated" and "a phase" or "toxic" and "ew stay away from me". Like, I'm sorry man, I just want to live and be loved and do what everyone else does, but I just can't. It's like watching people do something fun and be happy and laughing together from behind a blurred window, and even tho I keep looking for a way to go outside and join them I can't find it. Thinking about it, even if I managed to escape and approach those people, they would just run away with a disgusted face like I did something wrong.

Idk what to do with this life anymore...

[gayuu-the-necromancer]

William Rex Fervido: Fervently ~ Normal Story

 ｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

Through the dense forest and across the drawbridge to the castle----

William led me by the hand past the entrance and around to the backyard.

(Woah....)

The garden is covered with mist and flowers are covered with drops of rain.

It was so beautiful, much more mysterious than on a clear day, and made me want to get lost in it.

(.......The garden in the rain is so beautiful)

As I admire it, William's fingertips gently brush my hair, wet from the rain and sticking to my cheeks, over my ear.

William: "How do you feel getting wet in the rain?"

Kate: ".....It was...."

I was trying to be aware of my heart.

It was still a little immoral to let the cold drops of rain hit my skin.

(I feel like I'm doing something wrong.....but....)

(The rain, which has become lukewarm from the heat of the body slides down the skin too)

(It's also the case that my fingertips get cold, and only where he touches, feels warm....)

(And also William's fingertips brushing my wet hair up to my ear.....)

Kate: ".......great."

To my own surprise, my heart was dancing.

(William's 'good' thing....I thought it felt good too)

Kate: "It feels good to get wet in the rain."

I answered clearly and cheerfully once again.

William: "....Fufu."

Kate: "Why are you laughing?"

William: "I just thought, your face looked nice."

William: "You really do have that look on your face, don't you?"

Kate: "Ehh....? Ah....."

-----FLASHBACK-----

William: "You are finally smiling."

Kate: ".....Was I not smiling that much?"

William: "Yeah, and even now, you're laughing to your heart's content only half of the time."

------FLASHBACK ENDS------

William: ".....It looks very beautiful, truly."

(......!)

Kate: "Don't say those things so easily....."

William: "Why not?"

Kate: ".......Because it's bad for my heart."

My heart is actually banging noisily.

It's like all the nerves have gathered there and I was distracted by the fingertips that are still entwined.

I felt that I would be in trouble if he kept asking me 'why', so I hurriedly looked for another topic of conversation.

Kate: "...I was wondering, why didn't we go in through the entrance?"

William: "Hm? Oh, that...."

William: "Maybe it's because I love the garden in the rain."

(You love.....?)

William, without any hesitation, speaks of liking as the reason for his actions.

If he loves something or someone, he will protect it. If he hates someone, he won't forgive and punish it.

He will not make excuses for anything other than his own desires.

(Like William......I wish I could pick something without hesitation and say, 'I like it, I want it' )

(If I could live like that.....would I like myself more?)

William: "Besides, I wasn't in the mood to flood the entrance and cause a ruckus at the castle."

Kate: "......Surely, if we go home looking like this, it would be a big deal"

If we had returned to the castle from the entrance, the servants would have rushed to us in panic.

(.....Thank god or I would have had to let go of this hand if we did)

(Is it because I'm embarrassed or........is there some other reason)

William: "I'll take you back to your room. It's gonna get colder the more we stay outside."

.......

The sound of rain dances, along with our wet footsteps that echoes in the empty corridor.

(....Soon, we'll reach my room)

At the thought, my legs suddenly felt heavy and my walking rhythm lagged behind.

William: ".....Kate?"

Kate: "Ah, sorry...."

I quickly walked forward to catch up to William, who had stopped a little ahead of me.

(We need to get back to our rooms, change and get warm or else both of us will catch a cold)

We stopped in front of the familiar door of my room.

William: "......"

(I have to leave his hands to open my door)

(.....I know, but why is my body so heavy?)

William: ".....Do you not want to go in?"

Kate: "No......"

(Oh, I haven't thanked you properly yet for what you did yesterday and today)

(That must be why it's so hard to say goodbye)

Kate: "Thank you for bringing me to my room."

Kate: "And thank you for taking me to the ward today and.....for what you said to me yesterday."

Kate: "And thank you for everything!"

William: "I did what I wanted. You don't owe me a thank you."

Kate: ".....Still, I want to thank you."

(You, at that time.....)

-----FLASHBACK-----

William: "Just because you couldn't save them, doesn't mean you have to kill yourself. Kate."

William: "Haven't you had enough of punishing yourself?"

-----FLASHBACK ENDS-----

(For giving me forgiveness that I don't have to kill my voice anymore)

(No. That's not all. Long before that....)

-----FLASHBACK-----

William: "You're the only one who can hear your heart and give it voice, Kate."

-----FLASHBACK ENDS------

(Because you kept listening to the voice in my heart that I was killing)

(My heart could start moving again)

Kate: "Because you made me....like myself a little bit more"

(No matter how dangerous or distant he may be......this fact remains)

William: "A little' you're being so humble."

William: "I like you very much now. You are much more attractive than when we first met."

Kate: ".....Mm."

(Neither the words 'attractive' nor 'I like you' means anything)

(Because I'm sure he says that..........to everyone......)

Kate: "......Thank you."

William: "You're welcome?"

He tilts his head in a funny way, and drops of rain trickle down from his silver hair to his cheeks.

My eyes follow his body, lured by the drops that trace the contours and slide down to his neck.

I had a feeling that some terrible urge was crawling up and I opened my mouth in a hurry.

Kate: "Well, I'll just...."

(Quick, let go of his hands!)

William: "Yeah. Make sure you don't catch a cold."

(Ah.....)

William's hand, which had been clasped, suddenly loosens.

Instantly, an impulse burned in my chest.

(I hate it)

(I still don't wanna let go)

His red eyes were so absorbing that my lips were laced with his.

Slight heat is generated from the cold overlapping lips.

Warm, soft, wet.

And also sweet.....

William: "..........Mm......"

(.......!?)

I came back to myself in a flash as my breath overflowed.

Kate: ".......Ah........"

William: "........"

Our gazes entwine at the closest distance we have ever been.

Immediately, my whole body became blisteringly hot.

Kate: "I-I...."

(Why did I kiss him all of a sudden.....?)

Kate: "Ah...I...that...! I didn't ....."

When I tried to back away, my legs got tangled and I stumbled but something held me up.

I realized after a beat that it was William's hand around my waist.

(Ah.....?)

The numbness that ran through my legs was so sweet that I felt the strength drain from my legs.

Kate: "I-I'm so sorry...."

William: "......What for?"

Kate: "Because I....because I...."

William: "You don't want to?"

Kate: "Ah....."

His fingertips trace the contours of my confused face.

As if inviting, at a distance that seems to touch but doesn't.

(Why are you asking me that?)

(You said it before)

(Kissing someone without consent.....is an unforgivable sin)

Willaim: "............"

His gaze expects an answer from 'me.'

He's asking me if I really know what I'm doing and if I'm really making the 'right' choice.

(I don't know)

(I don't know I don't know)

Kate: "I.....I can't be myself....when I'm around you...."

He pours in something that could neither be medicine nor poison.

It's like it melts into my body and before I knew it, it had remade me.

It brings out desires I didn't even know I had.

Kate: "I'm not the kind of person.....who would do something like this....."

William: "........Is it a 'good' thing or 'bad' thing?"

William gives me another testing look and asks me.

He is waiting for me to answer and for me to pick and choose.

Kate: "......I don't know."

William: "Hmmm?"

Kate: "That's why....."

-----FLASHBACK-----

William: "You can learn what's good for you and what's not....you just have to remember with your body."

-----FLASHBACK ENDS-----

Kate: "I don't know yet...."

Kate: '.....So please teach me."

William: ".......Mmhm, sure."

I took his smiling lips, this time of my own volition.

I am sure he saw right through me from the beginning.

(William is dangerous)

(But I am.....so drawn to him)

(I'm so afraid of getting lost and losing my way back)

(From the moment we met, all the way through)

Chapter 11

[borrowedtimeandspace]

The Question

AU: A Patient, and Time (Donna AU); set some time after A Whole Lot of Precious Time

Note: Hope y'all enjoyed the comfort...

~~~

“No, no, it's not that I don't understand the threat, the Doctor insisted. “I get it; temporal displacement weapon, you point it at people so they do what you want or else they're, as it says on the tin, displaced in time. What boggles my mind is why you've added a wheel to it. Aren't fidget spinners a bit 'retro' for the 51st century?”

The terrible smirk on the face of the crisply suited man before the Doctor didn't falter even a hair. He continued to hold the deceptively dangerous device so casually in one hand, letting his thumb flick its shiny new wheel up and down at odd intervals. Not a thought was put into the action.

“Time… It's a funny thing, isn't it, Doctor? Suppose you'd know, the great and powerful Time Lord that you are. I should think you'd be more aware than anyone that in this day and age, temporal displacement is becoming a bit of an empty threat. What with vortex manipulators being a dime a dozen, it sort of takes the severity out of it. Just trace back the setting, or strong-arm the one with the weapon, and you'll find them eventually.”

It was all the Doctor could do to not roll his eyes at the man's monologuing. He'd prompted it, after all, and it was what he wanted. A distraction.

Alaric Edwin didn't have nearly half the planet under his thumb simply by having an odd, tricked-out relic in hand, after all. He'd come into political and social power by manipulating the populace with his network of tech worming into the vast majority of people's heads. A network powered by the master control at the far end of the room in which he and the Doctor now stood.

All eyes were on the two men, any hired (though to be frank, they were also enslaved) guns trained on the Doctor and awaiting the signal of their commander. Edwin, confident as ever, wasn't worried. 

No one but the Doctor seemed at all aware of the tiny woman sneaking from shadow to shadow along the edges of the room.

Zepheera had jumped at the opportunity. For how tight the security was in this base of operations, it all but ignored smaller life forms. Even carrying the tiny but incredibly powerful EMP device the Doctor had given her, the four and a half inch tall borrower was able to avoid tripping any alarms. She could get in close to the master control and shut it all down long enough for the Doctor to make sure it could never come online again.

It was the Doctor's job to make sure she got there.

Once in a while, he could catch the slightest glimpse of movement in the corner of his eye, but he dared not look for fear of blowing her cover. The Doctor only noticed because he had grown so used to a borrower being around, and as far as he could tell, Mr. Edwin was so locked in his own world that he had no concept of anything or anyone else. And the Doctor was determined to make sure it stayed that way.

It was just a shame that getting him to brag about his toys was apparently the way to do it.

“But, with this,” Edwin continued, lifting the temporal displacement weapon so that the newly added wheel was prominent, “it's all random. Even I don't know when exactly I'm sending someone once I fire it off. And the very next second, well…” He gave the wheel another pointed spin. “Then it's gone. No way to trace anything back, no way to know. Nice and clean, you see? Even torture won't get anyone anywhere since I literally do not know, myself, where I'm sending people. I've even lost track of which direction takes someone forwards in time or backwards. Really turns what was once a weapon of waning relevance into something…truly devastating, if I do say so.”

The Doctor’s eyebrow quirked. “And that just works for you?” he asked, deadpan and unimpressed. In his peripheral vision, he could see the faintest movement against the side of the master control. Good job, Zepheera, he thought, just a little longer… “Not nearly enough to point guns at people, is it? Is that what you do all day, come up with endlessly creative ways to threaten people who are already in your thrall?”

“You know, I grow tired of all your questions, Doctor,” Edwin sighed. “They're not nearly as entertaining as they were. I should think the time has come for me to begin asking the questions. For instance: How is it that you think you're going to put a stop to my operations here? You've come all this way, I can only assume that is your goal.”

Behind Edwin, Zepheera's heart was in her throat. This was hardly the first time she'd taken on a task that separated her from the Doctor, especially since Donna’s loss. Her drastically smaller size lent her to very different strengths than her Time Lord friend. He'd been nothing but encouraging, if a tad protective when she first started actively taking such initiative.

The adrenaline coursed through her veins, powering her climb. If she pulled this off, millions of people would be set free from imprisonment in their own mind. She knew firsthand what a terrible fate that was, and helping put a stop to it was what kept her moving forward.

It was slow going up her climbing rope, but Zepheera finally pulled herself up to the titanic machine's console. Leaving the grappling hook and line behind, she began sprinting toward the center. Along the way, her fingers fumbled to remove the straps keeping the electromagnetic pulse device attached to her back. She abandoned the fiddly latch and simply yanked the device over her head.

The Doctor clocked this movement, and tossed his hands in the air. “Well, I'm only a concerned passer-by. Just reckoned I'd scope things out as I stumbled in, plans aren't really my forte–”

“Couldn't agree with you more,” Edwin cut in, whipping his head around in time to lock eyes with Zepheera, her arms full with the little device. 

Her steps faltered for a split second at the sight of being caught, but she quickly redoubled her efforts. Frantically, Zepheera slammed her hand down on the button that would begin the thirty second timer on the pulse. 

Edwin's thumb flicked the wheel.

Zepheera tossed the device as far as she could throw it and made a mad dash for her hook.

Edwin's arm whipped around and he squeezed the trigger on his weapon.

“Zepheera!”

It all happened far too quickly for the Doctor to stop it. A bright flash of blue light leapt from Edwin's hand and collided with Zepheera. She didn't have time to scream before the beam consumed her whole. 

In less than the blink of an eye, Zepheera had vanished completely.

Edwin's thumb once again flicked the wheel on his device with a pointed whirrrrrrr. The only sound the Doctor was consciously aware of anymore.

That smug smirk was in full force as Edwin turned back to the Doctor. “Would you like me to repeat the question?”

The Doctor didn't respond at first. He stood frozen, staring at the last spot he'd seen his friend before she was tossed into the temporal wind. And at first, Edwin took pride in shaking up the Time Lord so visibly, and was willing to wait for it all to sink in.

Then that gaze slid slowly to lock with Edwin’s, and suddenly he was the one frozen in place.

Anger wasn't all that could be found in those eyes, and Edwin could almost see for himself what they saw when they looked at him. It wasn't just the dismantling of his plans. It was the complete and total destruction of everything Alaric Edwin was and ever would be, along with anything and anyone bearing his name. Oblivion in the truest sense of the word.

The wrath of the Time Lord, whose lip curled with utmost disdain as he growled; a low tone that went well beyond seething.

“Oh, big mistake.”

[maddiehu7]

Do I wanna know? | lalo Salamanca |

Chapter 1

I wake up to my alarm clock ringing

"Ugh" I groan reaching over and hitting it off my side table silencing it, time to get up I guess I rise groggily from my bed going over to the kitchen grabbing a water from the fridge chugging go it I walk over to my window pulling the curtain back a little looking outside

"Another glorious morning" I sigh to myself I've been a little...on edge lately with the whole looking for my dad thing but I'm powering through it, I walk over to my closet picking out an outfit for this hot summer weather I decide on blue jean shorts with a see through black long sleeve and a black tube top underneath and of course my signature black heeled boots

I look in mirror adjusting my top

"Not bad" I say looking at the outfit I created, I don't eat breakfast makes me nauseous so instead I pull out the files I have so far on my dad I have a couple friends in the police department so I've managed to gather quite a bit being here these past few weeks

"Mike Ehrmantraut" I whisper looking at his picture I can't believe I finally know who my father is I thought it'd feel great but...something feels wrong...off and I can't put my finger on it as I look at the picture longer I decide todays the day I take action I've been sitting on this information for a while to...scared to do anything about it but fuck it what do I have to be ashamed of he's the one who gave up his kid, I close the file putting it away grabbing my gun hiding it in my jean shorts flipping my shirt over it

"Here goes nothing" I say taking a deep breath heading out the door.

I pull up to a brown house with white on top it's nice I think, I put my car in park I don't even know what I'm gonna do now that I'm here I have a urge to run...hide but I take a deep breath ignoring it squeezing the wheel

"I can't do this" I run my hands through my hair going to pull away when a hand slams on my window I jump looking out to see my dad

"Shit" I sigh rolling down the window

"Who are you and why are you sitting outside my house" he says harshly

"Um sorry I thought this was someone else's house" I say acting more nervous than I am in hopes he believes me and lets me go

"You didn't answer me who are you" he says putting his hand on my window I quickly think of a fake name which is easy scince I always make them up being a bounty hunter

"Elena smith nice to meet you...?" I look at him questioningly pretending to not know his name he looks at me for a minute before heading back into his house I sigh loudly thank god I got out of that I think to myself putting the car in drive I just want to distract myself from this new awful feeling that I can't describe so I decide to eat my feelings and head to los pollos hermanos to try it out.

I walk in smelling the grease of delicious fried food and inhale smiling I look around at all the people when two men stand out to me one is shorter with a bald head an a blank look on his face the other one has black hair with a grey streak running through it and a handsome face with chocolate brown eyes I stare at him a little longer than normal thinking how hot he is I think he sensing someone looking at him as he looks around with a questioningly look on his face when he spots me he looks into my eyes trying to read me I quickly look away after being caught i still feel his eyes following me when I go up to the counter to order food I order a number 9 and bring it to a table across from that guy to eat i try the chicken and it's not bad which is nice sense it's cheap and close to me I'm enjoying my food when the guy from earlier slides into my booth I look up surprised sitting up straighter

"Hello" he says smiling

"Um hi" I say back awkwardly

"Oh sorry I'm Eduardo Salamanca but you can call me Lalo" he says reaching his hand out grabbing a fry from my plate popping it into his mouth looking at me

"Oh we'll help yourself Eduardo" I say pushing my plate forward rolling my eyes at him

"Your funny" he laughs sitting back his knees brushing against mine under the table I back up a little looking at him suspiciously, a guy comes over smiling at us

"Is everything to your liking" he asks folding his hands behind him Lalo perks up turning towards the man

"Are you kidding me, this is the best chicken I've ever had" he says smiling brightly

"I'm delighted to hear that" the man I'm assuming owns the place says laughing but it feels fake

"No really I'm serious it's crispy but not dried out and the seasoning it's so...flavorful!" he says overdramatized

"Well thank you, is there anything else I can do for you?" He questions there's something off about him I think to myself

"Is there any chance and I know the answers probably no...but is it possible to meet the owner" he says looking towards the counter for a second

"I am the owner" the man says calmly

"Really! How lucky for me" he says but I think he already knew who he was so why ask?

"Would you be interested in franchising because I'm eager to invest" he says like he's in a really bad play

"Well perhaps we should go to my office where we can discuss it further" the owner says

"Excellent, see you later princessa" he gets up to follow the owner winking at me

"Don't call me that" I yell after him to which he laughs, what the f just happened I think when the other man with Lalo slides into my booth

"Oh great another one" I say flopping my arms up towards him

"Who are you" he demands

"Nice to meet you to" I roll my eyes at him he just gets more angry

"Answer me" he says flashing his gun in his pants on purpose to scare me

"Oh the big guns literally" I say laughing he just looks confused that his intimidation tactic didn't work

"Look I don't know what you and your friend are involved in but leave me out of it ok" I say getting up from the booth walking away but he grabs my arm I turn around and he look me in the eyes seriously

"Stay away from Lalo Salamanca" he says letting my arm go

"No problem dude" I say putting my hands up walking away I walk outside still feeling eyes on me but I get in my car and drive around the block a couple times to make sure no one sees that I live right across the street, after a couple rounds I drive into my apartment parking lot

"What a day" I sigh out exhausted turning the car off getting out when all of a sudden I get pushed against the car hard I hit my head on the top of the car window stumbling I reach for my gun but someone grabs it first

"Fuck" I grumble when eveything goes black something being put over my head

(To be continued, let me know what you think of this new story! )

[daylander1000]

I swear this fandom is becoming more and more insufferable every day which is scary not to mention it's at least one more year of wait until season 2. I don't want even to imagine what it's going to be like when it actually airs. I've been in other fandoms, including the GoT one, but this level of toxicity, aggression, tribalism and hypocrisy is unreachable. What is with this show that encourages such behaviour? I really don't understand. I used to be team green (I still am kind of) during the show, especially the second half and after the show ended because I hated the way many black stans were acting towards anyone who didn't share their opinions and the way they talked about green characters (and even the actors) in general. Also, the framing of the show with it's good vs bad guys concept was annoying af so it wasn't hard to choose TG, at least to me. However, now I'm not even sure I care enough. It's so difficult to discuss anything show related normally and nust because all this toxicity soured the whole hotd experience to me now I'm more than anything team anti hotd fandom. That's why your fic is literally the last hotd related thing I'm looking forward to so atm so thank you for actually giving something good to this wretched fandom 😩. Seriously, Aemond and Rhaena should follow my example and just be done with everyone and everything lol. Anyway, I'm (not so😁) patiently waiting for the next update. I don't know anymore if I'll watch season 2, but I'll definitely read swhhw.

I get you. At large, it's not a fun fandom to be in. I remember when there was a petition to stop Matt Smith from being Dr Who on the grounds of him being too ugly, so in a sense it's a little amusing to see how he's inspired this whole "Choke me daddy" rabid fanbase... But other than that, it's really not much fun. People take everything as fighting words. They're attacking real people to defend fictional characters written by a man who hasn't even finished his series as yet after a decade long hiatus...

I don't even get the joy of reading other fics really, because I try to reduce the odds on me 'stealing' someone else's fic idea. Like, I know fair is fair and it's all fanworks, but I'll literally read something, go to sleep, incept myself, and wake up like "you know what would be really cool???" and it's only when I'm reading it all over that I'll realize that I've split off on a whole different unrelated tangent and have to course correct. I'm trying to write better and faster and cut down on how distracted I get. For example, writing while commuting feels productive but it really isn't, not how I do it. I get so distracted... I'll be editing and realize, "No, you can't write that. That's a line from a Hozier song."

HotD doesn't deserve the time or the energy. Like, I look at the word count of swhhw and question all my life decisions. But the rhaemond fandom is so nice and so small, you can't help it. It's like an oasis in a radioactive wasteland.

I'm also kinda doing it for Team Dyslexia and Team Dysgraphia in a sort of "We can do it!" way?

I really want to finish this before S2 starts.

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 17

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

If that's too steep for you but you'd still like to support my work, consider making a one-time donation via Ko-Fi:

Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Zeke

4 Years Ago

“Hey there,” I said as I walked through the Lair, our school’s main cafeteria, renowned for its aggressively mediocre food. It  was a wide room divided into two halves, and overlooked an admittedly gorgeous lawn leading to the big white chapel that was on all of our brochures. The lighting was dim in the late evening hours- the cafeteria was closing in less than an hour, but I’d been so busy at the library trying to get caught up on everything that I’d barely even looked at the time. And then my stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t eaten in almost twelve hours, at which point I braved the thousand yard trek from the library to the Lair. I’d managed to acquire a club sandwich for myself and searched far and wide across the cafeteria in search of someone, anyone, I even remotely knew, anything to say I was at least making some goddamn friends finally. I traversed all the way to the far end, overlooking the law, where, atop a pleather seat in a booth eating a caesar salad, I found someone. “It’s Watanabe, right? Don’t we have two classes together?”

The rumpled, exhausted looking boy with the shaggy black hair falling around his face looked up from his salad and his phone and made eye contact with me, seeming legitimately startled that anyone was talking to him. “Oh, uh, yeah, I think so. But, I… Uh, I don’t think I remember your name?”

“Zeke Underhill,” I smiled. “Mind if I sit? This place looks haunted at night, figured it’s better to have strength in numbers.”

He laughed weakly. “Yeah, I suppose so. Uh, go ahead and sit. I don’t know if I’m that great of company, though.”

“I mean you’re here, aren’t you?” I said. “That’s all that’s required.”

“Yeah, but I meant, like, conversationally.” “We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”

He gave another weak laugh, filtered through a snort. “Yeah, I guess. Anything else you wanna talk about?” 

“You ready for Professor Eddington’s test next week?”

“We have a test? Already?” Watanabe leaned forward, panic encroaching on his acne-marked face. 

“Yeah, he announced it yesterday,” I said. 

“Shit.”

“You were there yesterday- I saw you,” I pointed out.

“I… Was distracted.”

“By what?”

He did a conspiratorial double-take, then pulled up an image on his phone and slid it over to me. “I call her Dai Gurren.”

“Oh, awesome!” I said. “Like from Gurren Lagan?”

“Yeah! You a fan?”

“Huge- love anime. Giant robots for days,” I said. 

“Awesome!” he said. “What are your favorites?”

“Uh, Gundam, especially SEED and IBO. Raxephon, Mazinger Z, IGPX-”

“I! G! P! X!” he said, fist pumping at each letter. It was certainly something- he’d practically come alive once we’d both started speaking the shared language of nerd. We wound up talking for a while after that, and he invited me to hang out in his dorm’s common room with him the next night to watch Planet With. So, I headed over there at 8 PM, into a beige room with a collection of couches and desks and a plasma screen television adorning the far wall. 

A girl was there with him, short and black with great hair and huge… Tracts of land. 

“Zeke, this is my girlfriend, Olivia,” he said. “Olivia, this is Zeke, from our class with Eddington.”

“Nice to meet you,” Olivia said, half-heartedly offering a handshake. 

I picked up on a disappointed vibe from her before even making hand-contact. “You too. Hey, uh, if you guys wanna have a date night, I can scram-”

“No, it’s fine,” Watanabe said. 

I noted the frustrated look on Olivia’s face right away. “Aaaare you sure, Watanbe?”

“Please, call me Frank,” he said. “And yeah, it’s fine. Olivia and I wanted to ask you something, anyway.”

“We did?” Olivia said. 

“Yeah, we did,” Frank furrowed his brow. “But not till later. For now, let’s watch this weird freaking show!”

And so we did, though after an episode, Olivia and Frank started making out right next to me. I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the tv, but then it kept going the entirety of the second episode. 

“I’ll see myself out,” I said, getting up from the uncomfortable couch and heading for the door. 

Frank pulled himself off of his girlfriend for five seconds and managed to grab me by the back of my shirt. “Wait! WAIT! Not yet!” 

 I rolled my eyes and gave a mild exhale. “What’s up?”

“Still need to ask you something!”

“Then fire away,” I said, struggling not to laugh.

“Do you wanna join our robotics team?” he asked. “I want at least three of us for it, and based on our conversation yesterday, I’d say you really know your stuff.”

I turned around and looked at Frank, all pleading and hopeful and earnest and enthusiastic, while also noting Olivia’s face- annoyed, frustrated, but some of that was seemingly aimed at herself more than at me. 

“Sure,” I said. I mean what the hell, it would be the closest thing I had to a social life. What was the worst that could happen?

***

NOW

Kate stood on her tip toes as she kissed me goodnight under the lamppost on the corner of my street, her lips wet and slick from her lipstick, her tongue entering my mouth as mine entered hers, her hands on my chest as mine squeezed her butt. She giggled, and gave me one more peck on the cheek. “You have a good night, Mr. Underhill?”

“I had a great night, Ms. Calloway,” I said, drinking in the cherry-blossom scent of her perfume. “Sure I can’t convince you to come up for a night-cap?”

“My heart says yes, my brain and body say I’m exhausted after tonight,” she said. “Say hi to Faith for me, though. Let’s all hang out again this week, yeah?”

“Definitely,” I said. 

She turned around and started to scamper off, but then pivoted around and ran back to me and kissed me one more time. I stood there, stunned as she ran off again, but I smiled anyway. ‘Hate to see her leave, love to watch her walk away’ as she herself admitted she’d once thought about me. 

I ambled up to my apartment, the witching hour long since past, whistling ‘Feel Good Inc’ under my breath as I turned on the hallway light and took off my leather jacket. Kate and I had gotten In ‘N’ Out and eaten our burgers together in the back of her truck while parked on top of a cliff in the Hollywood Hills. We looked out into the city and just… Talked. About us. About the tournament. About Kate’s whole ‘image makeover’ plan. I’d never been great at the self-promotion stuff, but she seemed to be taking to it relatively well. 

And then, you know… We made out a bunch. Started getting a little frisky but stopped short of outright fooling around. We weren’t there yet, and Kate admitted she wasn’t sure if she was totally comfortable exploring her body like that at the moment. At least not until she was further along in her transition. Still, it wasn’t an absolute, and she’d even said if there was anyone she’d wanted to explore it with

I jumped when I saw Faith laying on the couch, staring up at her phone while All My Children played on mute from the tv screen. A handle of vodka sat on the coffee-table, significantly reduced in contents compared to when I’d last laid eyes on it. “Hey,” I said, walking over to the couch. “You okay?”

“No,” she said. “I’m drinking alone- does that sound okay to you?”

“It definitely doesn’t,” I said, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, pushing aside the table to make some room for me in this equation. “What’s going on? Who are you texting?”

“I’m not texting anyone,” Faith said, rolling onto her side and facing me. “I’m contemplating texting Olivia.”

“Oh?” I said, swatting her hand away when she tried to reach for the vodka. “What are you contemplating texting her?”

She looked at me with a tortured expression. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Okay, I won’t make you say it. But if you don’t, then I can’t help talk you down from this proverbial ledge, girl,” I said. 

She pouted. Which was in no way cute, definitely not, I definitely wasn’t still thinking that about her. Not in the slightest. “I miss her.”

My jaw dropped, and I blinked. Hard. “What?”

“I… She… I miss her.”

“You… Miss her. After what she did to you, you miss her?”

“She apologized,” Faith said weakly. 

“After what she did to Kate, you miss her?”

“Kate started it,” Faith said with a wave of her hand.

My eyes narrowed. 

“Okay, that’s not a great line of internal logic, I know,” she said, sitting up and crossing her legs. “But like… Kate did provoke her.”

“What are you gonna say next? That you provoked Olivia into cussing you out when you-”

“Don’t go there, Zeke,” Faith snapped. “And don’t… Don’t make that comparison, please.”

“Okay, but can you please consider this from my perspective for a moment?” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Olivia has now been weird and hostile about two trans girls coming out to her- one is my best friend, the other is my girlfriend.”

Her eyes, previously fixed on our rotating ceiling fan, shot towards me. “Girlfriend?”

“Y-yeah,” I said, flinching at her intensity. “We’re… Uh, well, we’re putting labels on it now.”

“How long has that been a thing?”

“About,” I started, then checked the clock on the homescreen of my phone, “Five hours?”

“I see.”

“What?” I asked. 

“... Nothing.”

“Don’t do that, Faith,” I said, “If you’ve something to say, please just say it.”

“...”

“Faith.”

“...”

“Faith!” I said. No, no, stop getting angry with her- she’s drunk, you’ve dealt with drunk people plenty of times without losing your temper. She’s drunk and she’s lovesick and she’s dealing with the uncomfortable truth that someone she loved might not exactly be the best person ever. 

Then again, it wasn’t like I was in any way unbiased where Olivia Root was concerned. 

I inhaled and exhaled through my nose, letting the fresh air filter up into my brain and clear out all the junk. “Actually, it’s okay. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through with all this, you don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to tell me.”

“But I do wanna tell you, I just… Can’t,” she said, looking down at me, hair framing her face beautifully, freshly-shaven legs stretched across the couch… 

NO, NO, BAD! I thought instantly. You have a girlfriend. Do not check out Faith like that. You are not gonna be like Dad. “Okay,” I said, “If you can’t, then you can’t. Just please, please don’t text Olivia the ‘I miss you’ text- I’m really worried about what’s down that road.”

She nodded sagely… And then hiccuped. I suppressed a chuckle

She failed to suppress hers, which I didn’t not think was cute. She’s. Just. A. Friend. I repeated the mantra in my mind over and over again. 

“How was your date?” she asked. 

“Really nice,” I said.

She winced. I squinted. Was she… Okay, no, no, no, no. Don’t read into that. Just don’t. Nothing good down that road either. 

“Kate really is something, isn’t she?” Faith asked. 

“Yeah,” I smiled, the image flickering in my mind of her on my lap in the back of that truck, the city below us and the stars above, all the time and opportunity in the world. I felt like I could be whoever I wanted to be when I was around her, and I knew she felt the same about me. “I’m… I’m glad you two have become friends.”

She gave a smile I couldn’t help but think looked a bit bitter, and said, “I am too.”

That was when both of our phones went off. We checked them, and I saw an alert from the robot fighting tournament committee. Next week’s fights had been announced. Faith and I’s next fight had been announced. 

“Oh, crap,” we both said at the same time. 

***

9 Months Ago

“Hey, uh, Zeke?” 

“What’s up, Faithy?” I said, sitting at the kitchen table and eating a plate of turkey sausage and scrambled eggs while scrolling through some onboarding documents on my laptop that I had to read for a temp job that started tomorrow. Help getting a new type of passenger plane ready- they needed extra workers for a few months, but there was no chance of it leading to anything full-time. Perfect, as far as I was concerned. 

Faith was having a bit more trouble finding temp jobs since she started her transition a few months back- nobody said out loud they didn’t wanna hire her because she was trans, but it was hard for her- or me, for that matter- to take it any other way when she was a bloody genius engineer and yet they kept hiring other folks from our graduating class who I knew weren’t as smart as her. 

Such as me, for example. 

“Will you take me bra shopping?” she asked. She stood in the doorway to her room, wearing a baggy black and gold West Point football jersey over her long red skirt. Interesting fashion choice in the middle of the last gasp of the baking summer heat. 

I nearly spat out my black coffee. “Um… Yes?”

“Really? You mean it? I don’t wanna inconvenience you-”

“I’m just a little confused as to why you want me to go with you. Did you suddenly forget how to drive?”

“No, it’s not that,” Faith said. “I just… Look, my breasts are budding and my nipples are all poking through my tops, but I don’t really pass yet, so I’m kinda scared to go bra shopping alone, okay?”

I tilted my head, looking at the five-foot-three-inch girl with the perfect hair and the perfect makeup, and sincerely wondered how anyone could see anything other than a young woman. “Alright, sure. Just gimme a few minutes.”

“Are you sure- I know you’ve gotta read and sign all that stuff by tomorrow-”

“It can wait a few hours,” I said, closing my laptop and standing up. 

As I made my way for my bedroom to put my computer away, Faith asked, “Can I hug you?”

She’d been asking that a lot, lately. “You know you don’t always have to ask, right?”

“Yeah, but, I… I don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable,” she said, looking at her feet as they traced the surface of the floor. 

I smiled gently. “You could never make me uncomfortable, Faith.”

“I did that one time, when Olivia and I kept making out right next to you-”

“Yeah, but that’s her fault for being a jackass,” I said. 

Faith glared at me. 

“Sorry,” I said, “Forgot I wasn’t supposed to do that.”

I stepped around her, but then she grabbed a fistful of the back of my shirt again. I chuckled, then turned around and hugged her. 

And then I felt something, two somethings, poking my chest. 

My eyes bulged. “Uh, Faith-”

Her eyes did the same, and she leapt off of me. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said, laughing nervously, scratching the back of my head. 

Silence, so awkward it belonged in an episode of The Office, sat over the room. 

Finally, Faith broke it: “Well, uh, do you get the point now?”

My mouth curved up into a smile. 

“Or do you need another poke?” she said, looking ready to mug for the proverbial camera. 

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Just the tips, right?” she said.

And I laughed, waaaaayyy harder than I should have at puns that stupid. And she giggled at her own joke, swaying back and forth as she stood there, light from the window scattering around her hair like a brilliant halo, framing her in all her awkward, ridiculous, degenerate, glory. And I saw her. I saw HER. And she was the same person I’d met all those years ago, but everything that had always been good about her- her heart, her humor, her sincerity- had all been amplified twenty fold and was now wrapped up in a very pretty package. 

A shot of emotion, hot and fierce and downright ravenous, went through my heart and pumped through the rest of my body. Yearning, desire, attraction, all slamming into me like a violent tide. 

Oh, crap, I thought.

***

Present Day

The names ‘George Gregson’ and ‘Pendulum’ loomed large in the robotics community. Winning five championships and only having four total losses in the professional circuit to your name over a decade-spanning career tended to have that effect. Faith and I had been lucky enough to not have to face him at all our freshman season, and that he’d been knocked out of the championships due to mechanical failure in the semi-finals. 

Yes, that’s right- Kate had beaten the guy. On a technicality- his engine just overheated and shorted out within ten seconds of the match starting. Kate hadn’t landed a single blow against the guy before experiencing victory by default, something even she admitted was pretty hollow. But it was also the only reason she’d gotten to the finals. Which was probably the only reason Faith and I had won last year, because I was convinced we would lose to Pendulum in a fair fight. Olivia and Faith had a similar opinion on our prospects against Gregson last season. 

And given Gregson already had a 3-0 record and was basically guaranteed a spot in the championship bracket, I saw no reason for this season to be any different. 

Faith and I stood in our rented garage in Culver City, looking at Dai Gurren, wondering what, precisely, the hell we were going to do.

“This is bad, Zeke,” Faith said. 

“I know it’s bad, Faithy,” I replied. 

“Please don’t call me that anymore,” she said, somewhat curtly. 

I blinked. “Ooookay,” I said, hoping the bite wasn’t too obvious in my voice. 

If it was, she didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to. “We need to win both of our remaining fights if we want a spot in the championship.”

“I am aware of this,” I said, breaking the power tools out of their plastic containers. Drills. Lots of drills. Appropriately enough. “So, Ms. Chief Engineer/Team Captain: how do we approach this?”

Faith took out a drill and pulled on a pair of safety goggles. “We work with what we’ve got. Also, text Kate the address and tell her to meet us here. I have an idea.”

I fired off the text, and then Faith and I started disassembling the front of Dai Gurren and removing the maw of six small drills. We replaced them with much larger, thicker drills, all made of titanium and sharp enough to puncture sheet iron. And which, hopefully, would stand up to Pendulum’s swing of death a bit better. 

Pendulum was the type of unconventional bot that worked primarily through raw power. It was tall and cylindrical, painted jet black and made of carbon steel. Down the middle was a hammer that was normally nestled safely inside a slot, held in place by a magnet, but a flip of Gregson’s control panel caused the magnet to turn over to a reversed charge magnet that repelled the metal hammer with a terrifying concussive impact. I’d seen it undercut bots and tear their faceplates off, shatter weapons and crush wheels and brutalize engines. It was perfectly designed to destroy flippers and spinners, and most drills and other melee weapons weren’t safe to use in a direct assault. You had to come at Pendulum from an angle, stay out of its range. That was its only real weakness- the angle of its attack was limited to what was right in front of it. 

Which would be less of a problem if Gregson weren’t also a ridiculously good driver. So good, the only driver I could imagine having even a fraction of a chance against him was… 

Entering the garage right that moment, wearing ripped jeans and a purple tank top, her hair tied back and her face sans-makeup. “Hello there!”

I smiled. “General K-”

“We don’t have time,” Faith said. “Hey, Kate. Did you bring the stuff?”

“Poly’s in my truck,” she said, hitching her thumb back and pointing to the parking lot outside. “I’m not crazy about incurring a bunch of damage outside the box though.”

“Then it’s a good thing this will be a no-contact match,” Faith said. “We just need to work on our driving.” She pointed at me without making eye contact. “We both do.”

Okay, this was getting a little ridiculous. But now probably wasn’t the time or the place, so I let it slide. 

We cleared out the workstation, swept the floor clean, and put the bots on the ground: Polyphemus, Dai Gurren, and Gurren, our minibot. It was barely the size of Faith’s handbag, with a single drill protruding from the front. But we would need every weapon in our arsenal if we had a snowball’s chance in hell on this one. 

“Ready?” Kate asked from the other side of our garage. 

“Ready,” Faith said. 

“Ready,” I said, not feeling at all ready. This, a match against Kate, felt… Wrong. Even a training match, a glorified game of two-hand-touch football, felt distinctly off when fought against my girlfriend. 

Which could pose a serious problem going forward. 

Polyphemus’ ax was still attached, meaning it was moving slower than it would normally. Which was good- Pendulum’s slow and steady speed was one thing we could plan for. Even still, Kate hurdled towards us, dividing our two bots down the middle and pivoting left very suddenly to aim for DG. Faith went on the retreat, letting Poly chase DG in circles before suddenly changing direction while I went after Kate from behind. 

That was when Kate shot left again and went on the retreat; Poly slid over to my feet and skidded into a sharp turn as both DG and regular G were giving chase. 

I flanked wide and went around the room counterclockwise, going towards Poly at its center before banking right and connecting, very lightly, with its wheel. Faith did the same with its other side. 

“You got me!” Kate said. “Great job!”

“Thanks!” I smiled. 

“It’s not good enough,” Faith said. 

“Huh?” I said. 

“We need to be on the offensive the entire time, both of us. Gregson is relentless- he will not give us the chance to get our bearings. Let’s go again.”

And because she was, objectively speaking, correct, I nodded, and we went again. 

Kate didn’t make it easy on us, forcing us to scramble for enough ground to try and attack her from the sides, but after a few minutes we managed it. 

But it wasn’t good enough for Faith, so we went again. 

And again. 

And again, and again, and again, a few more times after that, until we all ran out of fuel. 

“Okay, I think we’re done for the day,” I finally said. 

“What are you talking about?” Faith said. 

“We can’t expend any more of our fuel budget if we wanna be able to comp Katie for helping us today,” I said. “Which you agreed to do- in fact, you suggested it.”

“That… Okay, yeah, fair enough,” Faith said. 

“Good fight, y’all,” Kate said, walking over and taking her goggles off, then taking mine off of my face and poking my nose playfully. “Boop.” 

I smiled, and probably looked like a huge dork. 

Kate went to do the same with Faith, but swatted her hand away. 

“Sorry,” Kate said. 

“You really need to work on not touching people all the time without warning!” Faith said with a nasty grimace and a clenched jaw. 

Kate’s eyes dropped. “Sorry.”

My eyes narrowed. “Little hostile there, Faithy, don’t you think?”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that!” she snapped. 

I balked, then raised a finger and took a step forward. “What is going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what aren’t you telling me?” I said. “Because it’s clearly something- you’ve said as much.”

“I also said I didn’t wanna tell you.”

“And that’s fair. But what isn’t fair is you taking out your frustration over that fact on me and especially on my girlfriend!”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Kate said, holding up both hands and offering a conciliatory smile. 

“Like hell it isn’t- you came all the way over here to help us, your competition, do better in a fight, in spite of the risks to your bot and having to take time away from your own stuff to do this,” I said, “And Faith rewards you by acting like a drill sergeant and then hissing at you!”

“Oh for- don’t do that! Don’t use your girlfriend like a talking point in your argument. Your problem is with me, don’t make it about how she and I are trying to establish boundaries!” Faith said. 

“You both know I’m standing right here, yeah?” Kate said flatly. 

“Yes!” Faith and I both shouted. 

Kate stared at us… Actually, glared is probably the better word. “I can’t believe I’m the rational one in this room right now. That literally never happens.”

I winced. “You’re right, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” she said, “This isn’t actually about me. You both think it is, but it’s really not.”

“Kate,” Faith whined. 

“What does that mean?” I asked. Oh no. Oh no no no. 

“It means-”

“Don’t!” Faith snapped again. “It is not your place to tell him that!”

“Tell me what?!” I shouted. Please, say it ain’t so. 

Kate breathed in through her nose slowly, then out through her mouth with equal speed and purpose. “Tell you guys what- I’m gonna run to the gas station on the corner, get us all some sodas. And while I’m gone, you two can hash this out.”

“Please don’t,” Faith said. 

“Watanabe, seriously, it’s time to face the truth,” Kate said. “It really will set you free.”

She turned on her heel and left before either Faith or I could stop her. 

Leaving the two of us there with nothing but the proverbial elephant in the room. Dread gnawed at my stomach lining like mud wasps digging into my flesh. It couldn’t be what I thought it was. There was no way. 

But it would explain… Well, a lot of stuff, honestly. 

I took off my work gloves and heaved a sigh. “So…”

“So?”

“So.”

“Yeah,” Faith said. 

“Yeah what?”

“I…”

I closed my eyes. “Faith. We have the fight of our lives coming up on Friday, and we need to be a functional team when that happens. If you’re just stressed about that, then that’s fine, I’ll accept it. But I need you to talk to me.”

“I… Can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both?”

“Faith.” There was no other explanation. Nothing else made sense. But if she didn’t say it… It would keep eating away at her. But I still had no right to force her to say anything. “Maybe I should just go home, let you cool off.”

I started towards the exit, then felt a tug on the back of my shirt. 

I turned my head, and saw her clinging to me, face scrunched up, tears falling out her eyes. “Wait.”

So I waited. 

“I like you, Zeke,” Faith said, half a whisper and half a scream. “I like you a lot, and I have for a long time. Since… Before I was even living as the real me. You’ve always been there for me, propping me up when I just wanted to fall down, and… I can’t picture myself without you. I like you.”

My back went stiff, and I didn’t turn around. I… It just… Hearing that, from her, after all this time… It sent a hundred million different thoughts pinballing inside my brain simultaneously. The first one was an instinct, to turn around and kiss her, to sweep her off her feet and make violent love to her on the floor. 

The next one, far louder, far angrier, was ‘I won’t be like Dad.’

“Why… Why did you wait so long?” I asked, still not facing her. 

“I was scared,” she said, still not letting me go. 

“Scared of what?”

“That you wouldn’t like me back. That I’d ruin things between us. That you’d reject me like Olivia did and then I’d… Then I’d be all alone.”

The words screamed inside my mind: I could never reject you. I could never let you be all alone. They were followed by the words, You only ruined things by waiting until now to tell me. 

I gulped as I thought that, disgust coagulating inside my core. What is wrong with me- she’s pouring her heart out to me, and I need to say something. Anything. 

“Do you hate me?” Faith asked. 

“I could never hate you,” I said, and it was the truth. “You’re my best freaking friend.”

“And that’s all?” she asked. 

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” I said. “I’m with Kate- you know I’m-”

“I know. And she’s… She’s a gem. I was wrong about her. The fact that she’s okay with me having this conversation alone with her boyfriend is… It says a lot, I think. Especially about how trusting she is.”

“I agree. So you can see why it’s important that neither of us betray that trust,” I said evenly. Finally, slowly, I turned around.

I regretted it immediately upon seeing the tears flooding out of her. Faith said, “You’re right. And I don’t wanna hurt her like…”

I knitted my eyebrows together. “Like?”

“Like Olivia did with me. I don’t… I don’t wanna hurt either of you, and I feel like the longer I stay here, the longer I do this, the more likely it will become that I do.”

I reached for her shoulders. “That’s not gonna happen.”

She pulled away, stepped out of my reach, and said, with the guiltiest voice I’d ever heard, “It already has. You don’t even know that you’re crying too, do you?”

“W-what?” I reached for my eyes and found the water leaking out. 

“This was a mistake,” she said, taking a few more steps back. “I’m a damn coward and this was all a mistake. I- I’m sorry, Zeke. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you all this, and I’m sorry for putting you in this position. I know how much you don’t… Don’t wanna be like your dad. This isn’t fair to you. Or her. Or anyone.”

She started for the back exit, and I started after her. I reached for her. 

She pivoted and swatted my hand away. “Don’t follow me. Please just… I need to be alone right now. Go to Kate, Zeke. Go be with your girlfriend. You deserve someone like her.”

She ran out, and left me there, too stunned to say anything or move. By the time I regained my senses and chased her out into the parking lot, she’d already gotten in our car and started driving away. 

“Um… What just happened?” Kate said.

I jumped, turned around, and saw her walking up behind me with a can of soda in one hand and a plastic convenience store bag in t’other one. 

She hugged me without asking- she didn’t need to anymore. And right then… I needed it. I just needed it. “I messed up.”

She held me close and tight, and we stood there a while under the harsh light of day.

[ener-chi]

Another journal post comin' right at ya! This feels like it's going to be a bit more personal, but that's what I need to get back into things so here we go. TLDR: Being a shadow of myself and feeling like myself again, and color blindness and acupuncture!

I realized like. Yesterday. That I have been... unhappy. Everything in my life is actually everything that I've wanted, and is the foundation for the happiness that I want.

But the reason that I'm unhappy is because I haven't been myself. I haven't been living... intentionally, for lack of a better word. For the past like. Year and a half, maybe, I have been but a shadow of myself. I have been just absolutely blown around and toppled over by the slightest breeze of any emotion or thought, and have been in a near-constant trauma state. And when I wasn't in one of those things, I was either trying to recover/fortify from the next bout of wind, or engaging in distractions.

I am... tired of just being blown around and waiting to see what happens and hope that I'm okay. It's time for me to live intentionally, and not be a passive part of my life. It is my life, after all.

Anywho. I've been doing a lot of work, and I have a lot of work ahead of me. Self-cultivation, meditation, working on not being affected by thoughts and emotions, etc. It's been great, though. There are so many things that I've forgotten that I love. I've been spending more time meditating, and more time on my spiritual and energetic practice. Also my blog - obviously. It's just... I've missed all this, and it's really great to start feeling like myself again.

In other news. I don't really have too much spiritually/energetically to relate - but here is your fun acupuncture tidbit of the day! As it turns out - acupuncture it highly effective at treating color blindness! Honestly... this really has me shook. Because it's largely genetic, I just assumed that there was no treatment, and that it wasn't possible for anything outside of corrective surgery to fix it, which isn't really a thing.

But yeah, acupuncture and especially electro-acupuncture is VERY effective at treating color blindness! Like there are studies researching and showing the effectiveness of it. Just absolutely fascinating. Like it's just regular needles. And they don't even go into the eyes (though some points are veryy close to them - not looking forward to having those needled, heh). I love being able to study this. So cool.

Well. I don't really have too much else to add tonight, except for this - last night I was scrolling through some old notes on my phone, and I realized that my spiritual awakening started early 2019. It's been 5 years!! My god, it has felt so much longer than that, like a lifetime at least. But truly, what a wonderful, wonderful 5 years.

I hope that everyone has a wonderful night!

Blessings!

[outofcontexttokusatsu]

People have been giving you crap for not liking Kingohger, and trust me I don't agree with you, but I am at least glad you're still watching it and giving it a shot. You even praised a cliffhanger! So, be honest: Do you think it'll be crap (in your opinion) beginning to end, or do you think this is just a weak opening introduction arc or what? Also, do you think that, regardless of the series's quality, that doing non-set-in-Tokyo series will be a good step forward for plot diversity?

Going to assume these anons are all from you as well based on the wording (and if not I apologize to you and those anons but for sake of convenience I'm going to lump them all together).

Honestly overall I wouldn't exactly care that much people disagree with me about the show since I've spent enough time online to deal with people disagreeing with me about media (hell Faiz is in my top 5 and people still treat that show like the plague), but because Certain People I Won't Name wanted to start a massive argument over it and seem convinced that they can bully me into changing my mind for some reason I feel compelled to keep my rebuttals up.

I didn't go in WANTING to hate it, I've never gone into a show expecting or wanting to hate it beyond maybe Saber and even that I gave it a fair shot. I made my post about it to keep the running joke going (which I planned to do anyways regardless of quality) and when asked I made my points very clear, and at the point of the writing the first 3 episodes all have the very same reaction from me: the CG is ugly and genuinely distracting, the cinematography and general production of the show is very bad and makes a lot of basic mistakes that Sentai has never really struggled with before (seriously how hard is it to make sure the lights on the actors match the lighting of the environment?) because they're putting the fancy new tech first, the writing ranges from being decent (I do like Gira's gimmick of just pretending to be a moron want to overthrow Racules as a despot but so far little is done with it) to bland (Yanma and Himeno end up being pretty one-note despite attempts to add a new layer to them, Bugnarok and Racules are 1980's JRPG levels of generic BBEG) and even decently written/acted scenes are ruined by terrible editing or throwing in LOLRANDUM wacky and zany shit to them (DUDE HACKING BATTLE LOL) that takes me out of it.

If it weren't for the excessive flashy CG and cool new projection theater stage tech being front and center it'd be a painfully average Sentai show that is exactly why Sentai has been flopping in ratings and sales since Gokaiger, nothing new is being done and there isn't anything to hook a viewer, and the toys are kinda boring looking too. Especially after the moldbreaking psycopathy of Zenkaiger and Donbrothers, that we've gone right back to the same shit as always rather than keep pushing the envelope in the areas that actually matter is the problem. I don't even want to say someone didn't "get" Donbros (although based on some of the arguments people keep raising to me they really didn't) or blame it on sensory overload like my initial post, definitely a bad choice in hindsight but I was self aware about that, but this obsessive defense really makes just no sense to me at all.

I don't set out to make myself as the true objective arbiter of taste despite the jokes I make, and you shouldn't treat my words as such. I'm just some goofy (insert gender here) dork on the Internet who has some modicum of attention on themselves. Jokes(tm) aside I don't put myself above or below anyone else, I've been an avid fan of tokusatsu for ages and gotten particularly deep into it, deeper than the average person for sure, but I don't use that to build a pedestal for myself. You like Kingohger? Good, I'm glad you find something in it I don't. I won't attack or insult you for liking something I don't or enjoying something that from an objective standpoint is not good content, excluding maybe Ghost but even then you do you weirdo. But I've made my point and will continue to make my point until the show ends or I give up, and no outside force will change that.

Basically, what I'm trying to say about my opinion is:

And to get back to your point, I don't WANT the show to be shit beginning to end and I really hope it isn't, but based on opening perception and knowing who's behind the scenes I have low hopes for the show improving. Knowing me I end up just watching the entire show out of spite at some point but I really am going in each week hoping each episode is the one that changes my mind. Hell, I stuck with Kyuranger longer than most and that ended up getting pretty good when Houou showed up so maybe whenever SixOhger drops the show gets that kick it needs but as it stands now I couldn't say. As for the alternate setting offering plot diversity, see it's too early to make a judgement but I don't really see it. The different kingdoms are all so drastic from one another and the bizarro Final Fantasy-eques schizotech levels put the show in a weird place where paradoxically the setting itself doesn't really matter much, if the show were confined in one specific kingdom or at least had each kingdom separated into different plot arcs I could see it - which it may end up doing who knows - but the approach it seems to be going for seems to make it irrelevant. Even then, Adult Concerns will eventually rear their ugly head and the show will go through some shift to where the unique setting is dispensed with to end up with the same 8-9 filming locations we always end up in, again with Kyuranger that set itself up as a cool spacefaring action-opera and then we park our asses on Earth 4 episodes in and spend nearly the entire show there and the few times we DO go offworld after we just end up at the same quarry and stream we always go to.

[absentmoon]

🏁 >:3c

thankyou:)) 700 words..

We're sitting at the couch, on this dusty thing in this dusty place I've found myself. He's there like something out of a movie; the dazzlement had worn out after we'd started talking, though not by much. A smarmy sort of smile had been on his face from the beginning— though he'd gasp and nod at the appropriate moments when I spoke. A good listener, or, a good actor. Both, maybe. A hand is just barely brushed against my shoulder as I describe what I know about him, and this place in general. It's comforting, I think, in the sense that it's a distraction from how ridiculously out of place I feel. I'd given him the gist in the rush of whatever haze of adrenaline I was in when I got here. Now, we went over the details with a fine-toothed comb.

Though we seemed to be stuck. More accurately, Benny seemed to find the place in my story rather delightful, and contented himself to settle down there instead of moving on.

"So, baby," he says. At this point I've accepted his insistence on pet names — that is, the thought of asking him about it felt– embarrassing. In a way. "Tell it to me again, hm? From the top?"

"Um." I shuffle my hands around nothing, and get a sense of absolute delight coming off of the man beside me. "I mean. You, I-I mean, the courier just gets to the Tops, eventually? And, like— there's a few ways it can pan out, um, but. Eventually they either k-kill you, or you take the chip and get out of there."

I'm glossing over a lot of details.

"Glossing over a lot of details, though, arentcha pussycat?" Benny says with a winning smile. "C'mon, that's not the same catch of info you were givin' me earlier, huh? Don't hold out on me now, baby, what else can happen?"

"Umm, well..." It isn't really an issue for me. I guess I just don't want to talk about it too much, because, well— he'd had up to this point been very curious as to my own personal preferred choices, out of a seemingly unending curiosity. But there's something almost reassuring about Benny being so comfortable and willing to indulge.

He must notice my reluctance. He laughs, lightly, and reaches over to pat my knee, and even though it feels a bit strange, it also seems nice and reassuring. Like a hug, maybe, or a kiss to the cheek. "Go on— what happens? What do you usually do, baby?"

My ears burn, but I can blame it on the desert heat I'm still not used to. "I mean, there's- there's options, obviously. But. Usually I, uh. I always end up just talking to you." I shrug a little, as nonchalant as I can manage. "I already said I think you're- one of the best people here, and I- I meant it. Um. Do you– I mean, how specific do you want?"

He gives me a look, both eyebrows raised and chin rested on his hand, lips quirked in a cute pout. Up until now I've been able to still my face from whatever giddy expression it wants to make, but every second is a struggle with him. "Well, I mean— just don't say anything– uh. Just don't say anything, okay?"

An amused look sparks in his eyes. "Baby, I'm not gonna make fun of you. Scouts honor! Honest, I'm just curious, pussycat."

My face warms, but I grit my teeth. It seemed unfair not to tell, and– and it was just a game, anyhow. "You know how I told you about the perk system?"

"Mhm?"

"And about the, um, romance options?"

"Yeah?"

"That one."

"Ohh."

I have my face in hands, now, and he laughs again, leaning over so I can only hear the sound of his voice, right next to my ear.

"You're not telling me anything," he teases. His fingers trace the line of my jaw, just along my neck, before stopping. I can't look at him, and I'm hyperaware of him. "Was I your favorite, baby? You got a crush on little old me?"

"What— I don't–! No!" I squeak, which is kind of pathetic. I don't know why I'm flailing around all this, but it's really not helping matters. I sit forward and slap his arm. "That wasn't-- That's not it! I'm–!"

"Okay, okay." He sounds amused enough, anyway. He backs off, and in the privacy of my thoughts, I miss him. "So, after that? What happens next?"

I take a deep breath, and continue– we're getting to the more important parts.

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-pokemon-fan]

Hey folks, for my benefit more than for anyone else--as this whole blog is--here's a timeline of my spring 2022, pieced together from screenshots and memories: (it gets personal and heavy at the end)

12/30/2016 - I ambitiously start a new save on Pokémon Platinum Version, my first time playing it not as a child. I immediately put it down and don't pick it up for seven years, when I take...

4/23/2022 - My first screenshot (shitty photo) of my actual first adult playthrough of Platinum, showing a Lv. 27 Luxio named Alpha. I must have started a couple days prior. (Alpha is currently chilling in Violet as a Lv. 100 Luxray, only ever used 2 rare candies)

4/29 - I defeat Cynthia by the skin of my teeth.

5/6 - The ~Breakup~ to which I allude often, which is pivotal in this story, happens

Also 5/6 - I buy Pokémon Legends: Arceus as a treat. I play it quite a bit and--despite its faults--enjoy it quite a bit too.

5/9 - I buy the red and black DS also as a treat, realize it looks like a Sinnoh Pokédex, and pop Platinum in. My in-game Pokédex reads 119 obtained. Bipolar manic response to intense emotional distress kicks in. I think, "You know what, why not catch 'em all? Better yet, why not make a Living Dex?"

5/11 - I catch 19 Bidoofs to fill slots in the PC where mons i can't possibly catch would go so I can actually track who I still need. Out of spite, I name one "MANAPHY." Pokédex reads 155 obtained.

5/16 - Pokédex reads 183 registered. I've caught almost every Pokémon possible on one cartridge of Platinum.

5/20 - Content to move everything forward to White, I pick up my playthrough of White that I abandoned in freshman year of college when my Gold DS broke. I'm 7 gyms in already, time for the home stretch.

5/24 - I beat White. Hell Yeah. This will become my Living Dex save until October.

5/28 - I move all my Pokémon forward to White and document everything in my save. Pokédex reads 185 registered. Play clock is at 159:35. I reset. Time to Nuzlocke.

6/1 - First photo evidence of my Nuzlocke, showing me in a very dire spot against an enemy ace trainer's Luxio.

6/7 - A screenshot of PL:A in the Basculegion quest. I guess I'm still playing this here and there.

6/21 - I beat my first ever Nuzlocke. Play Clock at 141:31.

And that's how I played 301 hours of Pokémon Platinum Version in the span of two months. That's 12.5 days, or 20.3% of all the time in that span. That doesn't even count the time in White or P:LA. Keep in mind that for April until the breakup I had four classes, and from then to September I had an internship that demanded 20 hours/week (quite a bit of the grinding in the Nuzlocke happened on the clock). So it's not like the only thing I did was play Pokémon.

You know what? I'm not embarrassed. I was heartbroken. I was lonely, home for the summer, away from all my friends and almost every other distraction. I needed something to fill the gaping whole in both my heart and my schedule. Pokémon was there for me. So was my family, and so were my friends (digitally). I wasn't alone, especially not with all those damn Pokémon I caught.

If anything, I'm proud of myself. I've been to incredibly dark places. When I was younger, it got so bad I did something that leaves scars on me to this day. This time, an older, stronger, more hope-filled version of myself channeled my manic energy and overwhelming emotions into something entirely harmless: a video game. Better yet, I made personal achievements out of it. For the first time ever, I had completed a regional Dex, and I attempted--AND WON--my first ever Nuzlocke.

I joked that I switched mains in Smash Bros from Samus to Pokémon Trainer because I played a debatably unhealthy amount of Pokémon. The debate is in why I played so much. Was it unhealthy when it kept my emotionally stable? Was it unhealthy when it might well have prevented more self harm? I think not. You hear that, kids? Playing Pokémon for a fifth of your time is healthy in all situations forever. Obligatory /s.