#ill write a better version of this maybe later but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkskinned · 1 year

Text

im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:

videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.

and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.

this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.

there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.

there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.

for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.

i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.

here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."

eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.

we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.

"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"

thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.

it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.

an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.

and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."

#and there's something else in there about like ....#tbh once i got over something like 1k followers #i stopped being specific about my ED for a REASON.#yes on ur personal locked blog that u use like a diary go ahead etc #but we are OBVIOUSLY not talking about that. we're talking about the sheer NUMBER of people i could be talking about #in that one paragraph. that you and i probably were thinking about 2 different influencers #bc they get to say that they're just posting FITNESS and if it's FITNESS it's OKAY and im like #jesus christ lord almighty #every person in recovery from an ED: this is incredibly dangerous holy shit do you know how much this would have triggered me #each of these ppl: how dare you!!!!!!!!! i am only harming those who WANT to engage with my content!!!!!#their followers: leave them alone !!! they can't help that they make an hours-long choice to frame their disorder as if it was #fucking cottagecore !!!!#like girlie this person needs THERAPY #again! i didn't even have that large of a following before i IMMEDIATELY deleted any specific mention of calories food etc #bc i recognize responsibility and i didnt EVER want to even ACCIDENTALLY encourage this #and im not even GETTING PAID FOR THIS!!!#aND THEY ARE!!!#something something something they know this content makes them money #they don't give a SHIT about u babe

1K notes · View notes

superlinguo · 3 months

Text

Research Data Management. Or, How I made multiple backups and still almost lost my honours thesis.

This is a story I used to tell while teaching fieldworkers and other researchers about how to manage their data. It’s a moderately improbable story, but it happened to me and others have benefited from my misadventures. I haven't had reason to tell it much lately, and I thought it might be useful to put into writing. This is a story from before cloud storage was common - back when you could, and often would, run out of online email storage space. Content note: this story includes some unpleasant things that happened to me, including multiple stories of theft (cf. moderately improbable). Also, because it's stressful for most of the story, I want to reassure you that it does have a happy conclusion. It explains a lot of my enthusiasm for good research data management. In Australia, 'honours' is an optional fourth year for a three year degree. It's a chance to do some more advanced coursework and try your hand at research, with a small thesis project. Of course, it doesn't feel small when it's the first time you've done a project that takes a whole year and is five times bigger than anything you’ve ever written. I've written briefly about my honours story (here, and here in a longer post about my late honours supervisor Barb Kelly) . While I did finish my project, it all ended a bit weirdly when my supervisor Barb got ill and left during the analysis/writing crunch. The year after finishing honours I got an office job. I hoped to maybe do something more with my honours work, but I wasn't sure what, and figured I would wait until Barb was better. During that year, my sharehouse flat was broken into and the thief walked out with the laptop I'd used to do my honours project. The computer had all my university files on it, including my data and the Word version of my thesis. I lost interview video files, transcriptions, drafts, notes and everything except the PDF version I had uploaded to the University's online portal. Uploading was optional at the time, if I didn't do that I probably would have just been left with a single printed copy. I also lost all my jewellery and my brother’s base guitar, but I was most sad about the data (sorry bro). Thankfully, I made a backup of my data and files on a USB drive that I kept in my handbag. This was back when a 4GB thumb drive was an investment. That Friday, feeling sorry for myself after losing so many things I couldn't replace, I decided to go dancing to cheer myself up. While out with a group of friends, my bag was stolen. It was the first time I had a nice handbag, and I still miss it. Thankfully, I knew to make more than one back up. I had an older USB that I'd tucked down the back of the books on my shelf (a vintage 256MB drive my dad kindly got for me in undergrad after a very bad week when I lost an essay to a corrupted floppy disk). When I went to retrieve the files, the drive was (also) corrupted. This happens with hard drives sometimes. My three different copies in three different locations were now lost to me.

Thankfully, my computer had a CD/DVD burner. This was a very cool feature in the mid-tens, and I used to make a lot of mixed CDs for my friends. During my honours project I had burned backed up files on some discs and left them at my parents house. It was this third backup, kept off site, which became the only copy of my project. I very quickly made more copies. When Barb was back at work, and I rejoined her as a PhD student, it meant we could return to the data and all my notes. The thesis went through a complete rewrite and many years later was published as a journal article (Gawne & Kelly 2014). It would have probably never happened if I didn’t have those project files. I continued with the same cautious approach to my research data ever since, including sending home SD cards while on field trips, making use of online storage, and archiving data with institutional repositories while a project is ongoing.

I’m glad that I made enough copies that I learnt a good lesson from a terrible series of events. Hopefully this will prompt you, too, to think about how many copies you have, where they’re located, and what would happen if you lost access to your online storage.

#language #linguistics #data management #archiving

70 notes · View notes

firedjinni · 4 months

Note

what do u even call the slugcats cause they're "names" are fuckinfg BORING! "monk" "survivor" yap yap yap! thats why I call them flowerboy and ponyboy hunter is a cool fucking name but still WOLFBOY. is better I know theres... other slugcats the only ones ive seen are the fat one and the darker red one. and some weird... mutation looking slugcat... weird eyes... weird colors. whateverrrrrr ill enable the dlc after i do this damn wolfboy run 4 DAYs. LEFT.

okay, I understand this was probably not the intended point of this ask, but it is too late. you have activated my trap card. we are talking about Slugcat Worldbuilding Headcanons now.

(Spoilers ahead for… basically every campaign.)

For Hunter: I imagine "Hunter" is more of a nickname, and that NSH normally refers to them more as his courier or messenger. I tend to call them "Hunter" for writing convenience (even in their own POV, so far), but they don't really call themself that much. They have a lot of identity issues tied up in being created for a Very Specific Purpose and not really knowing how to think of themself outside of it; they're a divine messenger, but that's not really a name. Until their purpose is fulfilled, they don't think about themself as a person often enough to actually consider things like names.

For Survivor: I like the headcanon that slugcats (at least in Surv/Monk/Gourm's colony) are given simpler names as pups, and sort of "earn" a more descriptive title/adult name as they mature. In my usual read of them, they would have just been "white/pale one" when they still lived with their colony, and gave themself the name "Survivor" some time after their fall.

For Monk: their pup name, which they have during their campaign, is something like "yellow one", and they don't earn a title until later. Even then, they aren't ever "Monk" in-universe, as slugcats don't quite have an equivalent social structure or role for that term to translate directly. The name they take instead means something more like "pacifist" or "gentle/wise/peaceful one", though there are some loosely similar social connotations to early Ancient society's version of monkhood, with implications of spiritual attunement, insight, and vague otherworldliness.

For Artificer: I imagine this name to be a matter of in-universe translation jank. Their actual name is something closer to "crafter" or "clever one that makes things" (again, connotations are tricky to translate!), but those simply do not possess the same pizzazz. The Scavengers also call them "Red Death" or sometimes "Red Mother", which ends up becoming a sort of mythological figure later on, like a Scavenger boogeyman. Future slugcat colonies end up sort of adopting back the mythology of the Red Mother as a protective deity/spirit, so they mostly call her that in the future. "Red" was probably their pup name, too.

For Spearmaster: Seven Red Suns calls them "messenger" and "07" -- I like to think the former becomes a nickname (their character designer, Faeling, headcanons SRS calling them "Messy" as a nickname/diminutive which I think is adorable), but Spearmaster themself might have adopted the latter too at some point, maybe almost like a family name, because they like that it connects them to Seven Red Suns. I also figure that other wild slugcats might have various nicknames for them, especially since SM would have no easy way to introduce themself -- and the name "Spearmaster" might come from that, actually! But I also like the idea of a future folktale version of them similar to with Artificer, with various names depending on the opinions of the colony/culture in question: "Cousin Thorn-tail", "the Spear-sapper", "the Drinker", and so on.

For Gourmand: again, I imagine this as a case of translation jank, and whatever they're called has slightly different connotations, though I'm less decided on what it should actually be. "Gourmand" is just so… specific? I feel like whatever they've got going on should be equally untranslatable, though. It's something along the lines of "appraiser" and "crafter" and "skilled forager", with this implication of like… knowing about valuable/desirable things and how to find/make them, and also having a strong personal taste for them? "Connoisseur", almost? But not quite as fancy. Their pup name was just "big one", though -- pup Gourmie wasn't quite the absolute unit they are as an adult, but they were definitely always a big slugcat.

For Rivulet: I like the idea this really is just their name! Little-stream-of-water! It's actually their pup name, but they left their colony before coming of age (ran away to become an adventurer), and never really found a title they liked. They think Moon calling them Ruffles is cute, but it's definitely just a nickname.

For Saint: the name does translate directly, not because slugcats have a concept of sainthood, but because the title they gave themself is the literal term taken from the Ancients. I headcanon that they were raised by or around an iterator and know a lot of The Lore, and sorta borrowed some of these concepts for how they see themself… a sort of divine sufferer bringing peace to others, martyring themself for the sake of mercy. Their pup name was just "tongue" or something, though, if they had one at all.

#rain world #rw #asks #headcanons #not art

46 notes · View notes

keresnotceres · 11 months

Text

ker’s masterlist:

A list of my works for your convenience. Anything listed that is not underlined is unposted but is in the works! This is a working post, so it will update. As a result, more fandoms may be added.

This account is a side blog! If you get a reblog/like/follow from miloticaquarium i promise it’s me!! just like,, a less cool version of me lol

I also take requests :) Rules + Information under my works!

CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE II (2022)

headcanons:

TF 141: General HCs [sfw]

TF 141: NSFW HCs [nsfw]

TF 141: Civilian Lover [sfw]

TF 141: Realizing They Love You [sfw]

TF 141: “I Love You” [sfw]

MW2 Characters: as Lovers [sfw]

MW2 Characters: as Lovers (Angst) [sfw]

Valeria & Alejandro: 3some HCs [nsfw] (afab reader)

Ghost, Soap, & Gaz: Tattoo Artist Lover [sfw]

MW2 Characters: High School AU [sfw]

tbc…

oneshots:

ANGST:

You, With the Watercolor Eyes (Ghost x GN!Reader)

While on deployment, Ghost has nightmares in which you, his lover, fall out of love with him. The emotional turmoil from this causes him to fall into old, self-destructive habits. [sfw]

tbc…

FLUFF:

tbc…

SMUT:

Good, Good, Great (Ghost x Fem!Reader)

The two of you are roommates. You’re a bottle girl for the local strip club Myth, Ghost had been coerced into discussing information at the strip club. You’re miraculously on shift, and you’re flirting your way into a damn good tip. Just so happens that Ghost doesn’t like to share (even if you aren’t really his). [nsfw]

Say You're Mine (Ghost x Fem! Reader Good, Good, Great pt 2)

A few months later, Ghost takes his leave without telling you. He shows up to Myth unexpectedly on a busy Friday night while you have a plethora of tables to attend. Ghost doesn't seem to enjoy how you're serving a bachelor party, and he chooses to do something about it when the two of you get back to your shared flat. [nsfw]

tbc…

STAR WARS (THE MANDOLORIAN)

headcanons:

tbc…

FAIRY TAIL

headcanons:

Team Natsu: General HCs [sfw]

Sabertooth: General HCs [sfw]

tbc…

I usually stick to headcanons, but I sometimes stray to a one shot occasionally, requests are open for both! Please read the information below carefully before you request :)

I WILL WRITE: (I will gladly take requests for these)!

FEM and GN readers: As a cis girl, I am not particularly comfortable writing a male reader. Keep this in mind when requesting, please. If you don’t want a feminine reader, please let me know to write with a GN reader in mind and I’ll happily do so!

Fem and Masc characters: I will write for both! I like both so why wouldn’t I write for both?

Angst: My FAVORITE thing to write!! Please send me sad things to write about and I will literally speed right through it like a child mowing through a bag of apple slices.

Fluff: Sometimes consuming copious amounts tooth-rotting fluff to cope with the depressing content you just consumed is just what you need!

Smut: I can and will do it because I am nothing more than a simp; but you better look at the thin ice and will not write sections before you even think of asking me. Generic kinks and light BDSM are okay, see other categories for constraints.

Mental Health Struggles: Reader or character! Can include mental illnesses, coping mechanisms, and things like self harm or eating disorders. Not technically mental health related, but insecurities and family issues are also welcome.

THIN ICE: (I could write it, but it icks me).

Pregnancy and/or Breeding Kink, Somnophilia, CNC, and Cheating.

Throwing up/Vomit: I am extremely emetophobic. The only way I'll accept anything with something like this is: a) it's previous to what I am writing and/or b) it relates to an ED.

Slowburn: Not really my thing. Like, I could try, but it won’t really end up being a slow burn. Maybe like a going-the-speed-limit burn.

I WILL NOT WRITE: (If you ask me for any of these, you’re getting blocked!).

MALE reader: I’m sorry but as a person who is not and will not ever be a man I just don’t feel comfortable writing in the perspective of one.

Certain kink/fetishes (DDLG, ageplay, scat, uro, & other such bodily functions, feet), Incest, Pedophilia/Underage, Rape, Sexual assault, and Yandere/Stalker behavior.

KER is the singular form of KERES, a female spirit of death from Ancient Greek mythos. CERES is a dwarf planet named after the Roman goddess of agriculture, fertility, and motherly relationships.

#masterlist #requests open #reqs open #request rules #fanfic writer #hc masterlist #fic masterlist #ker yells

98 notes · View notes

bratanimus · 10 months

Note

33. you are such a nerd

@khaleesa, thank you for this awesome prompt! It was a lot of fun to write. And thanks to the lovely @pipergirl17 for betaing! I hope to work on the other prompts in my Ask box soon.

~*~

Hoard

Eddie sprawled on his stomach across Chrissy’s white eyelet comforter and peered over the edge of the bed, like the invisible Bilbo peeping at Smaug. All around herself, his girlfriend (someday he would stop italicizing that word in his mind, but today was not that day) had spread a veritable dragon’s hoard of paper, folders, notebooks, flashcards, pencil cases, and pens of all colors on the pink shag carpet.

Sitting cross-legged in her running sweats, framed in a patch of afternoon sunlight, Chrissy looked luminous as she carefully pried open the lid of a box of new pencils as if it were a treasure chest.

“Tell me again,” Eddie said.

He pushed up the long sleeves of his T-shirt and rested his chin on the heels of both hands in what he hoped was a coquettish and distracting manner, his jean-clad legs bent and kicking his socked feet behind him like he was at an honest-to-god Annette Funicello pajama party.

“Why are you doing this, exactly?”

Chrissy gave him the briefest of eye rolls, because she’d already started to explain on their way upstairs…though she’d been interrupted when they’d passed the Cunningham household’s actual dragon, who’d bellowed after them, “Door stays open!” Eddie could almost feel the mistrust billowing like acrid steam from Laura’s sewing room. Well, the old reptile would get used to him sooner or later. Or not.

“Make fun all you want,” Chrissy huffed (oh, she was cute when she was miffed at him, and maybe he shouldn’t rile her up, but he was a dumbass still getting used to having her undivided attention, so sue him if he occasionally resorted to his old habits of poking and prodding and other sorts of ill-advised provocation, and anyway, she didn’t seem to mind). “But it’s the end of spring break.”

With that, Chrissy pinned him with a friendly glare, as if a reminder of the calendar date should’ve made everything crystal clear.

Smirk (and dimples) still firmly in place, she broke the eraser off one of those brand new pencils, an unexpected act of violence that made Eddie’s eyebrows shoot upward. She tossed the nub into the flowery little trash can under her desk. Then she grabbed a fat, pink, arrowhead-shaped cap eraser from a pile of them and twisted it onto the top of the pencil.

“Ah, I see,” said Eddie, not seeing at all.

Chrissy only laughed at his confused expression, so he lay flat on his chest, chin on the bed’s edge, letting his arms dangle so he could fiddle with the felt tip pens scattered on the carpet. He stole a glance at Chrissy and pondered why one eraser might be somehow inherently better than another, so much so that she had to amputate and reattach, like some nerdy bookworm version of Mary Shelley.

“School starts back in a couple of days, right?” Chrissy went on as she attacked the next pencil.

“Uh-huh.”

Eddie shoved aside her big green binder and slid his fingertips along the pens as he lined them up, orange and purple and red and blue—

Bonk! Another brand new nub landed in the trash can, and another cap eraser got reamed by a wooden writing instrument.

“I always reorganize my school supplies after fall break, Christmas break, and spring break. It helps me stay focused.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he bullshitted, as if he had any idea about systems for focusing.

He arranged the pens according to the colors of the rainbow, remembering Roy G. Biv, the acronym his seventh grade art teacher had taught for the progression of colors. But Chrissy owned way more than the seven basic shades here. There were at least two dozen. Did she carry these to school every day in a pencil case, a small treasure trove in her pink backpack?

“I love school supplies,” she gushed, continuing her mutilation of the pristine set of Ticonderogas, popping off a dozen heads one by one and replacing them with bloated Frankenstein ones.

He knew she had a thing about control, and Eddie had seen her do her fair share of feverish erasing in the two classes they shared this year. But were twelve cap erasers really necessary?

Messing with the felt tips on the floor, he must’ve asked that last bit out loud, because Chrissy said tightly, “Oh, you know. Just in case I need to correct a lot.”

Oops. He’d touched a nerve. He needed a distraction.

“I bet you pack five extra pairs of underwear for every overnight trip,” he mused, “just in case you have a blowout.”

“Ew!” she squealed.

An eraser nub hit him square between the eyes, which made him flinch and blink.

“Seriously, Eddie. Are blowouts something I should worry about?”

“Oh, I dunno. Hang around with me long enough—”

A larger arrowhead eraser smacked him on the cheek. He caught it before it fell off the bed, stuck it on his pinky, and made it speak over Chrissy’s giggles.

“Look, lady,” he Muppet-squeaked, “you have an eraser problem. And possibly an underwear problem. You need help!”

Chrissy pointed to his pinky. “Speak not to me, nor my Trapper Keeper, ever again. You’re just jealous of my loot.”

“I have absolutely no use for dragon-guarded treasures,” Eddie murmured, quoting Tolkien as he slipped the eraser from his pinky and laid it reverently in Chrissy’s outstretched hand, “and the whole lot could stay here for ever, if only I could wake up and find this beastly tunnel was my own front-hall at home.”

Watching him, Chrissy’s eyes glimmered, prettier than any gemstones. His cheeks warmed.

It was something to be looked at by her, wasn’t it? To be admired? He dropped his gaze back down to the pens he was arranging and hoped his face wasn’t too red.

“That’s it.” The words were barely a breath.

Eddie’s gaze rose again to find Chrissy staring down at her hoard of loot, hands upturned helplessly on her knees, the arrowhead eraser still in the center of her palm like the One Ring.

He tried to match her hushed tone. “What?”

“That’s how I feel. All the time. This house. All my things. It’s just…stuff.”

And she had no other home but this beastly one.

Eddie's heart pinched.

“Come up here,” he said.

She did, lying on her stomach next to him, chin resting on her folded arms as she watched him arrange the felt tips into different configurations with one hand. Gravity made his veins bulge a little; they looked knobbly and greenish-blue in the bright light from her window. His hand could almost be a pale dragon skittering over its mountain of treasure.

He didn’t know what to say, because he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

Come away with me. Let me be your treasure. You are already mine.

Leaning into her with one shoulder, he reached awkwardly into his front pocket and scrounged for the ever-present handful of mismatched polyhedral die, which he tossed to the floor, a field of shimmering stars around what he’d written across the landscape of her Pepto-Bismol carpet.

“Wait.” Chrissy’s head lifted from her forearms. She blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Does that say—”

It did indeed. Eddie had arranged her plethora of pens to read

NERD

“You are such a nerd,” he whispered, creasing his brow and dipping his chin for emphasis. He wondered if she could somehow read on his face what he was really thinking.

Chrissy looked back at him and smiled like he’d just placed a crown on her head. He swallowed. Maybe she could read his thoughts. Eddie tucked her lovely smile away into his own mental hoard, for safekeeping.

“Takes one to know one,” she said, cutting the inhalation for his retort short with a kiss.

He nodded his fervent agreement until her widening grin made further kissing more difficult, but not impossible.

The eraser lay forgotten on the floor with the rest of the hoard.

#hellcheer #hellcheer fic #eddissy #stranger things #stranger things fic #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #ask fic #writing prompts #my fic #hoard

53 notes · View notes

shion-yu · 3 months

Text

I Still Think Of You

Whatever proceeded or followed this moment was worth it, if only just to hear Elliot's voice one more time. Cliff and Elliot reconnect nearly three years after their breakup. A complete rewrite of an older story that I wasn't content with and deleted. Also my fill for my @badthingshappenbingo space "I Will Only Slow You Down." 2,351 words, original writing, no TWs, CW depression, chronic illness whump.

The song hit Cliff like a stray bolt of lightning. He was sitting in the outpatient infusion center getting his monthly infliximab when it came on the regional variety station.

Sometimes I'm driving

Down ninety-five in your car

I imagine it still smells like you

But that was so long ago

And you're gone

Like dust in the wind

Like the tide pulled you in

Like you're never coming back

To me again

To whisper in my ear

"You're my whole life"

And I'm yours

I'm still yours

It was Elliot. The voice was unmistakably Elliot's because nobody else's voice sounded like that: that perfect mix of confident yet wavering and gentle. Cliff knew it immediately because it was the voice that he fell in love with. He also realized quite quickly that the song was about him. All those other love songs that Elliot had written could be excused away as generic, the classic ballad about a faceless lover. Maybe a few coincidences, but never anything like this one that pulled so directly from the time that he and Elliot spent together.

Cliff had told Elliot so many times: "You're my whole life." At first it seemed romantic. Later it seemed possessive. "I can't be your whole life, not all of it," Elliot had told him the day they broke up. "You need to keep some for you, too."

Cliff wished he had understood what Elliot meant by that back then. Maybe if he had, things would have turned out different. Maybe Cliff would have been more honest, braver. But they were victims of the age old cliche: you can't love another person until you love yourself. It hadn't just been Cliff though. Neither of them had loved themselves, they'd only loved each other. They'd relied on each other too much before the other was ready to carry the burden of another.

That was almost three years ago. A lot had changed since then. Cliff was diagnosed with sarcoidosis. He started law school and then made the difficult decision not to return after the first year. He dated Phoenix, who broke up with him when he dropped out. He never loved Phoenix though. Cliff wasn’t even sure if he ever even really liked him. It was just another poor attempt at hoping that if he pretended to be someone he wasn't, he'd stop being the real, pathetic version of himself that actually existed.

Cliff had been trying to ignore Elliot's steep rise to fame for a while now for his own self-preservation, but after I Still Think Of You hit the billboard 100 it became impossible. Elliot was everywhere: on talk shows and TV performances and magazine covers. The other half of his act, some guy named Alex, always hovered behind him providing bass and backup vocals. Cliff thought he looked like a little kid. He rarely smiled, as opposed to Elliot who couldn’t stop except for when he was crooning so passionately into the microphone that it gave Cliff chills to see. Everyone seemed to think Elliot's permanant smile when speaking was adorable, but Cliff knew it was just a nervous habit.

He watched Elliot sing his heart out on a YouTube clip of Good Morning America. Elliot was always incredibly talented, but his voice had gotten much better with age and confidence. He owned every word and his presence was immense. The announcer described him as a prodigy, but Cliff disagreed. He knew Elliot worked his ass off to get to that point, it didn't just come naturally. But Elliot laughed and thanked everybody profusely. It sounded like the audience was mostly girls based on the squealing every time Elliot said something sweet. Elliot had never denied his sexuality in interviews, but it seemed that didn’t matter.

Cliff didn’t know why he did it. Maybe because he thought there was no way Elliot wouldn't have changed his number by now and even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t answer Cliff right? Maybe it was because he was lonely and figured he didn't have anything to lose. Or maybe it was because he thought he might die before he ever had a chance to address his single most burning regret in life. Nobody said he was dying, but Cliff wasn't sure. He didn’t leave the house anymore, too sick to have the energy and too self-conscious about his inability to control himself to try. He couldn’t get farther than the length of his apartment without his crutches and he couldn’t skip the oxygen if he wanted to walk further than a single block without his lips turning blue. It felt pitiful, and he spent many nights thinking that if someone offered him a magic pill that would let him never wake up again, he'd take it.

The text was tapped out, deleted, then rewritten and sent before Cliff could change his mind again.

'I still think of you too.'

He told himself not to wait for a response. Even if Elliot did receive the text, he might not respond. It had been three years since they'd talked after all. Three very long years in which both of them had undergone a tremendous amount of change. Elliot was now successful and brilliant, shining for the world to see like Cliff always knew he would. And Cliff… He was the opposite. He was dull and empty. He had nothing left but a broken body and the bones of all the things he'd ruined over the years. Elliot shouldn't talk to him anyways, Cliff thought to himself - he’d only bring Elliot down.

Cliff nearly dropped his phone when it rang almost immediately after he pushed send. It was Elliot. Cliff answered in shock. "Hello?"

"Cliff!"

And that was it. Whatever proceeded or followed this moment was worth it, if only just to hear Elliot's voice one more time.

"Yeah, it's me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cliff was sitting in Barney's waiting for Elliot to show up. It was their old stomping grounds, the café that they used to visit during late night study sessions when they went to NYU. Elliot asked him to sit in the back, presumably so he could avoid being recognized by any fans while he met with Cliff. Cliff thought maybe if Elliot knew what he looked like now, he wouldn't have even taken that chance.

Cliff tried to clean up nicely, but he was so pale now from a mix of illness and never leaving the house. He wore his oxygen to get here, but he arrived early so he’d have time to catch his breath and hopefully get away with stashing it in his bag while they talked. His crutches weren't something he could hide though, and neither was how thin and brittle his hair was from the methotrexate (although at least it hadn’t fallen out). He was starting to decide this was a terrible idea, that he ought to just go home before Elliot ever had the chance to arrive, but then suddenly Elliot was standing right there in front of the table - in front of Cliff - and it was too late to turn back.

Elliot looked older. More mature. His dark curls were shorter and tamer than they ever were when they dated. “Hi Cliff,” Elliot said with a nervous smile.

Cliff thought he looked incredible. He wondered if he should stand and give Elliot a hug, Elliot always was a hugger. But instead he just smiled back and motioned for Elliot to sit. “Hello Elliot,” he replied, equally as nervous. Elliot took off his black leather jacket that fit him astonishingly well and hung it on the back of his chair before sitting.

“So,” Elliot said. “It’s been… what, two years?” Almost three, Cliff thought to himself as he nodded in agreement. Surely Elliot had to know it'd almost been three years since Cliff messed what they had up so immeasurably. "Wow."

"Wow," Cliff repeated. "You look great, by the way."

Elliot's flustered face made Cliff worry he'd already messed up. But Elliot just said, "Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." Cliff was sure that was a lie. "How have you been? I heard you got diagnosed with an autoimmune disease."

Cliff wondered where the hell Elliot possibly heard that. Then again, they had still gone to the same school for their final year of undergrad even if they hadn't been dating anymore. Their majors had no crossover at all though, and any friends they'd shared had obviously ended up staying friends with Elliot, not Cliff.

"Yeah," Cliff confirmed uncomfortably. "Sarcoidosis." So awkward.

"I'm sorry," Elliot said.

"Sorry for what?" Cliff said.

Elliot rubbed his hands together, glancing down. "Well, I never called after I heard you got sick. That wasn't very nice of me. I wanted to, but we were... You know."

"Yeah. I know," Cliff said. This is so not how he'd hoped this meeting would go, although he had tried not to have any expectations at all about it. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. Tell me about you."

"Me?" Elliot asked with such innocence that Cliff had to laugh. He barely ever laughed this days, but he couldn't help it.

"Yes you," Cliff said. "Like you're not totally famous now."

Elliot blushed and looked flustered. "Stop, I'm not that famous," he said quickly. "I mean I've been so lucky and so fortunate but, famous is a little..."

"Sure," Cliff smiled. "Okay. Successful. You're so successful now. You really earned it."

"Really? Thanks, Cliff," Elliot said, smiling back. "It means a lot to hear you say that."

It was Cliff's turn to be surprised. He wasn't sure why Elliot would value his opinion much. He cleared his throat, coughing a little. "Well, yeah, of course."

They were silent for several awkward beats until Cliff interrupted it by coughing again. Was sitting at a table in a coffee shop seriously too much for him, he thought in annoyance? But it was also the first time he'd left the house for anything but a doctor's appointment in... Weeks? Surely not months.

"Do you have a cold?" Elliot asked worriedly.

Shit, five minutes reunited and Cliff was already making Elliot worry again? Cliff had to get the situation under control. He shook his head, pulling a napkin from the dispenser on the table and covering his mouth with it while he continued to cough. He could feel his lungs twitching, protesting in annoyance that they weren't being treated like the main attraction as usual. Cliff closed his eyes and tried to pretend Elliot wasn't right across from him for a second while he weighed his options. He ultimately decided it was less embarassing to wear oxygen than have a full on asthma attack right in front of everyone. "Sorry," Cliff said hoarsely. "Don't think that... I just don't want you to worry."

Elliot looked confused until Cliff pulled his oxygen tubing from the bag slung across the back of his chair and looped it over his ears. "Oh," Elliot said softly. Cliff couldn't read his expression. Pity? Disappointment? "Cliff, you didn't have to not wear that for my sake. I know it's... Things are different now."

Cliff took several deep breaths through his nose, trying to control his cough. He could feel his head getting a little clearer. "I'm not saying you should care," Cliff said when he caught his breath. "I'm not saying I deserve you to. But I don't want you to think I'm not trying. I am."

Elliot nodded as if he understood. His face was so tender, so gentle and delicate... Cliff pushed away the desire to reach out and brush Elliot's cheek with his fingers. "Like I said. Things are different."

Cliff relaxed a little, his shoulders falling from their tense position. He rested his chin in his hands and said, "Thank you."

The long minute of silence that followed was still awkward, but not as awkward as the first one. Elliot shifted in his chair and said, "Why did you text me?"

"What?" Cliff asked, startled.

"You must have had something in mind. After all this time. Why'd you text me?"

Cliff had asked himself that a million times in the week since he'd sent that message. At first he really didn't know, but now he realized two things. One, his life without Elliot had never been as happy as when Elliot was in it. And two, if he wanted Elliot back in his life, he had to be honest, not like the first time. So, he was honest. "I just missed you."

"Oh," Elliot said. Cliff half expected him to run away, slap a hand on the table and say he knew Cliff hadn't changed. But instead he smiled shyly and said, "I missed you too."

Now they both looked surprised and a little embarrassed. Cliff had wondered for years what it would be like if he ever saw Elliot in person again. He'd at times wanted to apologize, beg for their relationship back, to convince Elliot he'd changed. But as time went on, he'd gotten more tired. He was still that anxious, guilty person he was before, but he'd had the time to think about what had gone wrong and learned to appreciate what had gone right. Elliot had agreed to meet him, and this was his chance to do things right this time. Even if it was never the same and Elliot wasn't his, Cliff's main desire was to make it up to him now.

"I was wondering if I could text you sometimes," Cliff said. "I know you're really busy. Just, talk to you every once and a while."

"You mean like friends?" Elliot asked.

Cliff nodded. "Yeah. Like friends."

He waited for the answer feeling like this was judgement day. There was no other question he was dying to know the answer to more. He only had to wait a second.

"Okay," Elliot said. "I'd like that. Friends." God, that nervous smile, Cliff thought to himself as he melted in relief. No wonder all those teen girls fell in love so quickly.

#shionwrites #oc: cliff #oc: elliot #sickfic #whump #bad things happen bingo #I will only slow you down #chronic illness whump #angst with a happy ending #hurt comfort #male whump #emotional whump

13 notes · View notes

blackjackkent · 2 months

Note

what do you think wouldve happened in an alternate universe where hector let karlach become a mind flayer?

(A/N after writing this whole answer: whoops, this got out of hand, hope you're okay with an Unexpected Fic. XD Also maybe a smidge weird/dark at the end, although not a ton I hope? Certainly no more than the whole game is weird/dark. XD Anyway I hope you enjoy. <3 )

Ohhhhhhhhh.

Anon, I love you for asking me this question. <3 A very intriguing one!

And it is because I love you for asking me this question that I have braved looking up a video of Karlach actually becoming a mind flayer, which I had put off doing because I am a softheart and I knew it would hurt and also make Hector yell in my head. XD And when Hector yells in my head it's a whole thing because he does double Flurry of Blows against the inside of my skull for 140damage and it's rough enough in there already.

However! I have now watched it and done some thinks. (Hot damn, Lae'zel is MAD too, at least in the version of the scene I watched. The whole thing is very upsetting.)

Fundamentally it would be a tragedy, and not just for Karlach. Watching the way the scenes play out - there is just enough of Karlach in her speech that Hector would not want to disconnect from her. I think perhaps it touches on the same hope that kept him expecting a miracle for her heart right up until the end of the game - somehow, somehow we can make this work, somehow we will find a way...

But there is no way. This is who she is now, a creature of the Astral Sea with his love's voice and an empty place where her soul should be. And unlike the engine situation he can't even kiss her to make himself feel better because she looks like a squid.

-----

The one saving grace is, I suppose, she does seem happy enough. In the epilogue, she states that she has found a way to get brains to eat by consuming from terminally ill patients at a clinic in Baldur's Gate, people who have volunteered for the process because they are about to die anyway. And she talks about helping all of them live on by absorbing their memories and carrying them with her.

It's... sweet, in a way, Hector supposes.

He tries to keep busy. There's no battle in Avernus to occupy him in this timeline, so he primarily works with Jaheira and her kids on rebuilding. It's hard, physical work; it keeps his mind occupied. At first he sleeps at the Elfsong; later, after some nudging from Rion, Jaheira offers him lodging at her home, where he takes a hand in raising the latest crop of orphan children she is protecting. He sees Baldur's Gate start to bandage its wounds and begins to believe there was some purpose to all his struggle.

But his own wounds do not heal so easily.

He visits the clinic often. He and Karlach talk. Her voice is a slow near-monotone in her accent, unlike anything he ever heard from her before. Sometimes he can hear a twinge of her humor or a turn or phrase, and his heart leaps... but other times she speaks of things like destiny and infinite time in a way that reminds him more of the Emperor than the woman he loves.

She never laughs. She doesn't curse. There is never even the slightest mention of sex; though she still fully understands a double entendre when he makes one experimentally, she seems to take no interest in it. She seems to exist slightly beyond him, with a view of the world that is no longer of the Material Plane.

And yet... she does know him. She remembers everything - stories he told her of his childhood in the monastery, details of Selunite rituals she learned from him, quiet moments in camp he half-forgot himself. She still calls him Soldier, and sometimes Hec. She remembers her own parents; she remembers the city. There is just enough of her still in there... just enough for it to squeeze his heart.

----

One day she walks (well, floats) with him to the Singing Lute; she sits with him while he eats. They talk about the rebuilding; he points out from the balcony some of the new homes he has worked on. She is quiet for a long time. "It is good to see the place begin to live again," she says, in that strange cool slow voice that has replaced the old jocular drawl. "It's what it was all for."

He nods. "Do you regret it? Any of it?" Do you remember what we had? What we've lost?

"How could I, Soldier? The city still lives. You still live." A long pause. The old Karlach might have laughed sardonically, but there is no humor. "Even I still live, and I have grown beyond myself. What is there to regret?"

It sits like a rock in his stomach. If she is content, what more can he ask for? And yet it hurts... it hurts...

-----

Jaheira notices that he begins to withdraw back into himself, that he is quieter and more serious. She mentions it to Gale, on one of his visits to the city from Waterdeep.

"You're not wrong there," Gale agrees. "You weren't around yet, when we knew him fresh off the nautiloid. He was much more careful, then. Very controlled. The very picture of monastic stoicism - in between the panicked realization that we were all undergoing a supreme nightmare that never ended, of course. He lightened up, over the months - certainly by the time you knew him."

Jaheira purses her lips. "And this... he is returning to his old ways, you believe?"

"I don't think it would be unreasonable to assume," Gale says, with a sort of bleak humor, "that Karlach is no longer providing the same amount of compensatory levity that she used to."

-----

In the end, almost two years later, Lae'zel is the only one who speaks to him of it directly, and she is brutal - but effective.

"You have been hollowed out, she'lak," she says bluntly, on one of her rare visits from the Astral Plane. "It is a lessening of you. Do you still trail after your ghaik as if bound to her by a lead?"

"I have done much in the city since you left," Hector says, somewhat defensively.

"Chk. I do not speak of your body's business, k'chakhi. I speak of your mind. Your heart. You have lost yourself. You live only for others."

"As I was raised to do. As I have always done."

"Hector." She rarely speaks his name directly, but she does now, and it makes him jump. "You know of what I speak, and I will not have you ignore it. Your work in the city is admirable. You have cause for pride and contentment. Yet you pine after Karlach as if you hope to find her in the shell wearing her voice."

"She's still in there, Lae'zel."

"You mislead yourself," she spits. "Was it not you who taught me the strength to look beyond mindless devotion?"

That stings, and unconsciously he stands up a little straighter. "This is not mindless. It has been earned," he objects.

"Tas'ki. She is ghaik," Lae'zel says flatly. "What remains of her will dwindle, day by day. You know this as well as I." A pause. Then her eyes soften, and her voice with it. "You do not honor her sacrifice by this emptiness, Hector. Nor do you honor yourself."

He says nothing. His lips draw into a tight line. He hears her, and he does not want to.

"Think on what I tell you," she says - for all the world, now, as if she is the wise mentor and he the student in need of guidance. "You are no fool. You know I speak truth. Do not discount it."

-----

It takes a long time, but he does eventually start to come back to himself. Ten years. Twenty years. He grows old, though he loses none of his strength, his training too ingrained to allow him to weaken with age. The city reforms, stronger than ever, and he slowly begins to learn what life is, outside of both monastery and war.

He teaches self-defense to the children Jaheira rescues and others in the Lower City. He learns to (very badly) play a lute at Alfira's school. He tries his hand as a woodworker after so much carpentry work in the rebuilding of the Gate; one day, with some pride, he gifts Halsin a raggedly carved owl in return for the duck. He travels with Shadowheart several times to the House of the Moon in Waterdeep, reaffirming his faith in the light that has guided him through so much darkness.

And he reads voraciously. Everything he can get his hands on, from every library in the city. There is far more knowledge in the world, he comes to learn, than the particular cache with which he grew up.

He visits Karlach less, over time. And Lae'zel was right - there is less and less left of her each time he sees her. She is drifting away from him. And slowly he comes to terms with that - that what they had was a wonderful thing and a fleeting thing that will never come back to him. He learns to live for them both, for the life she would have had with him, had there been time.

He does not love again, though. He lived his whole life devoid of romance before he knew her, and he has little interest in trying to find it again in the years that remain to him.

For the most part, he moves on, and eventually finds himself relatively happy. But there is one last concession to sentimentality and to everything he has lost.

-----

On one bright, cold afternoon in mid-autumn, many years after the Netherbrain has faded into a bleak memory, he goes to the clinic. She is there, much as she always is; she has not seemed to age much in all these years, though the tentacles are slightly longer, a bit more nuanced in their movement.

He, though, is old; the grey dappling in his hair and beard has faded to white. His body acts as strong as ever, but time is implacable; he knows, as she once did, that he has very little left. It is a strange thing - a weakness of spirit rather than flesh, old age's deeper destruction that even the most disciplined monk cannot stave off forever. He is not dying, but he would be dead soon, likely within a few tendays.

"Hector," she says, flat and cool and almost unrecognizable, and inclines her head at him slightly. "You have settled everything?"

"Everything," he says quietly.

"You are still certain it is time?"

"Yes."

"Then we will begin." She gestures him to a secluded corner of the clinic, with a comfortable chair set up for the purpose. He settles himself there and looks up at the clinic's cracked stone ceiling and waits.

"It has been a good life," he comments, as much to himself as to her, as he waits for her to approach. "Lae'zel was right, that I had to move on. I have done much, seen much. I am proud of what we achieved - all of us."

There's a long, expectant silence. Then he leans his head back, closes his eyes. "I never stopped loving you, you know," he adds softly.

"I know," she answers, and her jaws sink into his skull.

#hector carlisle #long post #drabble #au: illithid karlach #WELLP I MADE MYSELF SAD AND NEED TO GO REREAD MY POSTS ABOUT THEM SNUGGLING ABOUT 50 TIMES #this answer got very out of hand and rambly and self-indulgent :P #although maybe that's what you were hoping for idk XD #i've mentioned before that hector did not come out of the monastery well-equipped to handle tragedy in a productive way #so this is not a timeline that is ultimately a good one for him i think #even though it ends on a generally positive upturn #i hope the ending is not too out of left field XD but it wouldn't be an illithid ending without just a smidge of KindaFucked Up Shit i thin

12 notes · View notes

n0bluev · 3 months

Text

Somehow, im inspired to write that 'revision fic'. === (EDIT : u can skip but heres another snippet for u (3 separate bits that fit together nicely, actually haha) cuz hihi. THE AU: As i said, its a failed "3"rd regression context, where yjh is now in his "4"th round. The last memory he has of kdj is him dying, and to make things worse "In this round, that guy doesn't exist." is a thing, so yjh freaks out a bit but hes totally normal about this whole ordeal & the fact that he doesnt even remembers kdj's face now. Wdym! Hes fiiiiiine!

sorry lol back to the actual post : (,hope u enjoyed that little treat tho^^)) ===

!!THAT [Somehow, im inspired to write [...]] HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE!!. I always like. do an outline for the overall story and vibe, then flesh out the start or something and cook up a little 500 (probably unsatisfying) words for fun kind of as a bonus. Keep it mostly for my private enjoyment and move on before the story comes to life. And that's okay... Yes, it would be cooler to actually write the AU ideas i get in novel or comic form instead of having them stay at just the 'sketch' & 'idea/brainstorm' phase before i get another idea and leave them to dust up in the pile,,

But yeah, its okay.

In the few years since ive started getting ideas for more elaborate aus/fics, ive noticed that my ideas improved with time. (no shit, i know, but it makes me happy! i grew up!!! i can see it.) My planning methods are better too. So all of that unfinished or abandoned stuff is not at all useless work in my eyes. And who knows, maybe one day i'll bring them back.

--> as a plus, all my fandom brainrot experiences even get transferred into my OC stuff, and frl whenever i read my notes these days (or listen to my voice memos lol) and im just like "HOW DID I THINK OF THIS WOW" or "WHEN DID I PUT THIS LIKE THIS? IT WORKS!" (not to brag or anything but my oc lore goes hard ☝️)

BUT. NOW THIS IS UNEXPECTED.

I DID NO PLANNING. I just started writing for orv and its. Lowkey, good ???? Dont get me wrong i only have 1.5k right now and there are clear holes i have to fill and stuff but... CLEAR HOLES! CLEAR HOLES. Sure Im used to being like "something of the sort should go there..." BUT THIS TIME ITS "THIS SHOULD GO THERE, ILL WRITE IT LATER BUT THE IMAGE IS IN MY MIND, CLEAR AS WATER, AND ONCE I START PUTTING IT ON THE PAGE ISTG THOSE WORDS WILL STREAM OUT OF MY FINGERS AS IF IT WAS A NORMAL OCCURENCE FOR ME" ,,- !??? Yo!

Anyways. Point is that somehow theres interesting stuff going on in my gg doc and the more i write the more i know where i want to go, so that's cool, i feel all powerfull for once

idk if that ease is going to stay once im done with the first scenes (ughh!!! theres so much potential!!!!!!!!) but hopefully yes. either way ill probably post it so im not baiting yall with a "um actually im writing smt rn --- *never shares with the class*" --- either 1) things go well and i write a "real fic" (!? wtf that wasnt my plan!) --- or 2) i only post the finished version of what i have now (expect around 5k? (i have no idea actually)) and we wait together to see if i pick up the idea again haha. (i do wish to write it tho! im not a 'writer' writer but i want to be one, u get me?)

! thank u see u byebye

#orv fic #orv au #nhoblu narration #(<- thats gonna be my all encompassing AU-FIC-OCS lore n stuff tag now ive decided hehe)#next step is to make an art tag (another day lol. ill make a post :3)#orv #전독시 #전지적 독자 시점 #omniscient reader's viewpoint #writing

9 notes · View notes

nicksbestie · 8 months

Note

hi lovie <3 you know i've been feeling really meh lately so maybe something with luke where he takes the day off to spend time in bed with the reader and make her feel loved and wanted? just really soft and cozy and warm vibes please. i can be more specific too if you want!

ily<33

word count : 1055

warnings : descriptions of depression and medication

enjoy!

Depression sucks.

There’s no other way to describe it. It’s a debilitating illness that causes so much pain over the course of your life, and for a lot of people, it’s incredibly difficult to handle, even with medication, therapy, and other forms of help. You knew first hand just how difficult it was, having been attempting to continue with life as normal as possible whilst managing it for years now. The only thing that kept you going during a lot of your bad days was the fact that you had a loving partner who always put his best effort into helping you feel better. Of course, with Luke’s job, he was normally very busy. But despite this, he always made sure that you didn’t feel alone, that he loved you, and that there wasn’t a place he’d rather be than with you.

Unfortunately, you had been having a bad night, and were not looking forward to when he inevitably had to leave for a writing session with the band in the morning. He wouldn’t be gone terribly long, but you just didn’t feel like you could function by yourself. However, even knowing that Luke cared so deeply about your well-being, you didn’t mention this to him, knowing how taxing his job could be, and how much he loved writing and creating music, especially with the band. It was his outlet, his do-it-yourself version of therapy, what kept him happy most days, and you didn’t want to take that away from him. The reasonable part of you knew that he would be happy to spend time with you and soothe your hurt, but the irrational part of you that told you that you would be bothering him won out, and you kept your mouth shut.

However, what you didn’t know was that Luke could read you like a book. He knew as soon as you comfortably laid down in his arms the previous night that you were struggling, and the second that you fell asleep, he sent off a text to the band’s group chat informing them that he wouldn’t be there the next day. He managed to slip out of bed an hour or two later, seeing as you had gotten too hot in his arms and adjusted a little bit away from him. He wasn’t intending to be nosy, but as he walked into the kitchen, seeing your medicine bottles on the counter, he noticed there were way too many in there to be halfway through a ninety-day supply. He decided to place it on the backburner for right now, knowing that taking them might definitely benefit you, but he also knew firsthand that once you got into a slump of not taking them, it was difficult to get back on track.

He personally had never liked being on medication, even for the smallest of things, because it made him feel like his happiness revolved around a drug. But even with this being said, he still dealt with it when he was prescribed them, knowing that they made his lifestyle easier on his mind. Getting something to drink before heading back to bed, he felt incredibly sad at the notion that because of his lfiestyle, you were probably feeling worse than you may have been normally, because he was gone so much more. He made a silent vow to himself that he would make as many changes as he could to be home more, and luckily his job was flexible even though it was so busy. There wasn’t much that he could do about tour, but he could try and reschedule writing sessions or do it over the phone from home as much as he could. Obviously there would be times he couldn’t, but he would still do everything he could to make it easier on the both of you and give you more quality time with him. He got back into bed with you, you still being absolutely knocked out, and fell asleep curled up next to you.

When you woke up the next morning, you were incredibly shocked to see Luke still there, as it was nearing 10:30, and he had told you that the writing session was due to start at ten. He was still comfortably asleep next to you, always a late sleeper, especially when he wasn’t on tour. He always used as much of that time as he could to catch up on sleep, attempting to get his schedule back on track. But, because you were under the impression he was late, you roughly shook him awake, feeling bad when he reached up to rub one eye. It took him a second or two to form a coherent sentence, yawning halfway through it.

“What’s- what is it?”

“You’re late! You were supposed to be at the studio nearly thirty minutes ago!”

He yawned again, checking the time before rolling back over and pulling you into his arms. Now it was your turn to be utterly confused, wondering why he wasn’t rushing considering Luke hated being late.

“You have to go! Why aren’t you getting up?”

He cracked a small smile at your concern, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Relax, love. I told them I wasn’t coming today. I know you need me here.”

You were always anxious about being a burden, and because of this, attempted to squirm out of his grasp.

“No, you need to go. I’m fine, I’ll be fine-”

He cut you off with another gentle kiss, this time to your lips.

“No, you’re not. I’m staying, end of story. We don’t have to talk about it, but I’m not leaving you when I know you’ve been struggling. You haven’t been taking your meds, which hasn’t been helping, and I know you need someone with you today. I’d rather be here, with you, than be at the studio, and I hope you believe me when I say that, because I have never meant anything more.”

It didn’t take long for you to break down in tears, some happy that he was staying, mostly sad because you were feeling badly. However, he stayed there with you the whole day, helping with every small task you didn’t feel strong enough to accomplish on your own, and you had never felt more loved.

#5sos fic #5sos fluff #5sos angst #5sos #5sos x reader #5sosfam #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings angst #boyfriend luke hemmings

31 notes · View notes

veeranger · 11 months

Text

Vee’s Steam Summer Sale 2023 Recommendations

as always these are just personal opinions etc etc please look up some real reviews before buying a game if you aren’t sure and remember that steam will give you a full refund if you have less than 2 hours played in under 2 weeks.

im going to try to recc stuff i havent shilled every 6 months for the last 5 years but the VNs are going to be the same as always honestly

Fighting Games

Guilty Gear -Strive- Ultimate Edition 2022 ($55.99)

yes im specifically saying buy ultimate edition because it has all the dlc as of this writing. buy the base version if you want but i hate playing fighting games with incomplete rosters.

anyway this is my favorite fighting game, bar none. this is the game that after years of screwing around on a bunch of other games finally got me to really want to get better and actually play against other people. there’s a super active playerbase and at least another year of support from arcsys on the way. the best time to start playing strive was a year ago but the second best time is right now.

Idol Showdown (Free)

yes im shilling a free game here. idol showdown is a good fighting game and the result of like three years of hard work from a small team. try it out and give them some love

Nitroplus Blasterz: Heroines Infinite Duel ($4.99)

this is not a good game but it is a funny game. saber is in it.

Narrative Games

AI: The Somnium Files - $7.99

one of the finest mystery games you can play imo. maybe uchikoshi’s best work. a perfect blend of mystery, character, and style. every character and conversation is compelling in its own way and every little thing builds up to the huge moments which makes them all feel totally earned. as always uchikoshi is a genius in the way he blends his signature branching timeline style with the themes and core concepts of the game. the twists and turns this game goes down are so crazy that weeks later you’ll still be realizing how all the little things you thought were just quirks were actually foreshadowing. cannot recc this enough tbh.

Zero Escape: The Nonary Games - $11.99

another uchikoshi joint, also extremely good. ive only finished 999, the first game in this collection, but i can recc it just based on the strength of that alone. whereas somnium is a murder mystery, 999 is a visual novel about being trapped in a murder game interspliced with escape room segments. whatever you think you know you dont, 999 will take you down so many twists and turns you’ll be fucking dizzy when you’re done with it. big recc.

VA-11 HALL-A: Cyberpunk Bartender Action - $10.04

i could probably talk about this game for as long as the others, even though its way way less complex. va-11 hall-a doesnt have a huge sweeping story with insane twists and massive reveals, but what it does have is an extremely personal narrative about loss, healing, and just living your life the best way you can in a horrible dystopian world. the cast of characters feel utterly real and you learn about the world they inhabit through interactions with them, rather than being infodumped by exposition. everyone has their own story and everyone is just trying to get by, including you. one of the best small scale personal narrative games ive ever played.

Night In The Woods - $9.99

another vn i would consider “small scale” but equally as impactful. nitw is a story about a disillusioned and struggling college drop out returning to her economically declining home town. nobody is secure, nobody is happy, everyone is suffering through their daily lives. you follow mae as she struggled to readjust to her childhood home and the people she left behind. until something happens that changes her priorities radically. all ill say. despite how i just made it sound, nitw is not all depressing. theres lighthearted moments and wacky days to cut through the bleak fog, as well as genuinely heartfelt moments that feel very earned. nitw is a game i think that everyone struggling through their 20s should play.

Grim Fandango Remastered ($3.79)

i know this is an old school adventure game and you might yell at me for sort of grouping it in with the VNs but i dont care. its a classic, its a beautiful game, everyone should play it. its old, it controls like shit, the puzzles are obtuse, but the experience is wonderful and memorable. its cheap as hell just go for it.

Action

Assault Spy ($4.99)

this goofy ass game is fun as hell. its a very dmc style character action with upgrades and moves to buy, and it actually has a pretty goddamn good mechanical system in place. the gameplay loop rules. only warning is this is not well optimized so watch your computer doesnt explode.

Marvel’s Spider-Man Remastered ($40.19)

i shouldn’t even have to shill. a must play for any spider-man fan. one the best spider-man stories ever hands down. such an incredible experience seriously. i cant even say enough here, if you haven’t played this yet you should do it asap.

Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales ($33.49)

everything i just said for the first game goes here too. a MUST play for miles morales fans. the combat is even better than the first too. you won’t regret playing this trust me.

Marvel’s Avengers - The Definitive Edition ($5.99)

no i’m not joking. ok well i kind of am but this game is getting delisted in september. it is an unforgivably mid piece of shit but if you have an interest in game preservation or playing something so bad they’re killing it forever, well here it is. they made all the microtransactions free btw.

Others

Tinykin ($13.75)

its like pikmin but its legally distinct! i like this game a lot, it has a very cute art style and its got easy to enjoy gameplay. i find it very relaxing. there’s a demo.

System Shock 2 ($2.49)

i will never stop shilling this game. fucking play it. its a cornerstone of video games. one of the most influential pieces ever put to pixel. you owe it to yourself to experience this if you feel any interest in it. maybe read a guide though its unforgiving if you screw around with your build.

Dead Space [2023] ($41.99)

exceptionally good. i dont have to shill the old shitty pc port of the original anymore. an A+ remake, i think it improves on the original in every conceivable way.

Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night ($11.99)

such a goddamn good metroidvania. its almost like the platonic ideal of a castlevania game. a true spiritual successor to SOTN. this isnt your dime a dozen soulslike vania, this is a true vania game in the best original style made by basically one of the core founders of the genre.

STAR WARS™ Knights of the Old Republic™ II - The Sith Lords™ ($3.49)

its a fuckin classic rpg. one of the best of the era. get it on pc so you can get that extended content mod they promised to import to the console version and then cancelled.

Save Room - Organization Puzzle ($2.09)

this is just a cute puzzle game. i like it.

#veepost

20 notes · View notes

fang-and-feather · 1 year

Text

Ikemen Vampire - MC/Unspecified Suitor

(yes, I wrote this with no specific character in mind, although this specific situation is more likely to happen to some of them than to others)

A small fic in which MC has an illness that can't be treated in the 19th century and has to return to her time.

Angst with a happy ending (I think light angst, but I'm bad at gauging it)

I usually am too sensitive for angst so I don't even know where this angsty plot bunny came from, instead of the usual fluffy and/or smuty ones. Writing neutral characters is hard but I really had no particular suitor in mind for this. I might write some versions for specific guys that I think are more likely to be on this situation later though.

AO3 Link / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

That love could be painful, she had known, but she wasn’t prepared to be that hurt by it.

When she was told not to fall in love with anyone, it sounded like an easy task. From the moment she noticed she wasn’t on her own time anymore, she had been ready to go home.

But she fell in love, anyway, and now she was paying for it. Because her love just wasn’t to last, not when she and her lover were separated for more than a century.

Now she didn’t want to go home anymore, but she had to if she wanted to live, because she had an illness that couldn’t be properly treated in the 19th century. Her medicine had been enough for the time she was forced to stay while the door that connected both times was locked, but she needed more, and her doctor appointments.

She had sought alternatives, of course. Love was something you fought for until running out of possibilities. But her only conclusion was that, for her to stay in the current century, she would have to become a vampire too.

Maybe being a vampire had its downsides, and turning her had its risks, but was it truly worse than her current state where she was practically living off of drugs and frequent trips to the doctor?

But her lover had been against the idea from the start, which was the source of her current dilemma.

Could she do it, knowing that it would ultimately separate them? If, after the change, she could still return to her time, the answer would have been yes without hesitation. But crossing the door was dangerous for vampires. She would be trading one risk for another.

Having to live closer to him, knowing they would never be together, would hurt way more than the separation.

Would Comte lend her another place to live until she could survive on her own, now that her staying in this time wasn’t his responsibility anymore? Probably. But was it right of her to ask, after everything he’d done for her already and she would never be able to repay?

And there was the problem: she wouldn’t be living a normal human life. Not because she would be a vampire, but because that would make her live for way longer. Way too long to live with a broken heart and the memories of a fleeting love.

Of course, a broken heart wouldn’t kill her. She didn’t need love to live a fulfilling life. But for how long? Would she be able to see the rest of the world grow and change before her, with no one by her side who understood and would support her?

But the only people who could support her lived in the only place she couldn’t stay in. She would suffer, no matter what she chose. Living that long was a burden, anyway. She saw it in how Leonardo and Comte, who would live longer than even the other vampires, tried to cope with the time given to them - Comte better than Leonardo - and she became afraid to try.

Maybe because she was already hurting. If she had more time to make a decision when her mind and heart weren’t so torn, would she make a different choice? Was she being influenced by her turbulent emotions right now?

There was no time, though. The door would open in a few hours and the fact that her decision might have been made hastily and she might regret it later only weighed her more.

But was there a decision that she wouldn’t regret sooner or later? Her fate was a cruel one, no matter how she looked at it. As much as she could live with whatever decision, it would hurt either way.

They’d had a slight argument, not exactly a fight, over turning her or not and hadn’t seen each other again until it was time for her to leave, and he was waiting before the door.

Had he changed his mind? Or did he really want to go through all the trouble to say goodbye? She had been hoping he wouldn’t come, that he wouldn’t make her much needed decision harder and more painful, but she was also glad he was there. She had enough time and presence of mind in the last couple of hours to make another decision. Maybe as hasty and pointless, but one that made her feel a little better.

Although a bitter part of her still thought of it as a punishment to him for his decision, if he ever wanted to see her again at all, but it was more hope than they had before.

She tried not to cry through saying goodbye, but her efforts were futile. Their last kiss tasted salty because of the tears, bodies trembling in each other’s hold.

Before she left, she held his hand, a small piece of paper being passed from her hold to his.

When he questioned its existence, she said: “It’s a promise for a date. Can you give me at least this last encounter? I know it is a lot of time, and you’ll probably have moved on, but give me at last a sign that you’ll be safe and happy and I’ll be able to move on properly, myself.”

She held no hope that her plan held any promise of them having a future together. Her time was so far away from his and he would take the long road there. In fact, she held little hope that he would even remember that date, or agree to it at all. But he gave her a sad smile and kissed the back of her hand.

“There is no way I will ever forget you. I’ll meet you whenever and wherever you want.”

Now she was openly crying when he cradled her face in his other hand and kissed her.

Salty kisses and bittersweet promises. How could these make the future sweet?

They approached the door hand in hand, both too reluctant to let go but, ultimately, they had to, and the door was closed and disappeared as soon as she stepped on the other side, trying to hold back more of her tears in public.

The next few days were hectic. She had disappeared from her time; the police had been alerted, and she had to deal with the consequences and couldn’t even tell anyone where she had been. She was afraid to know what had happened to her job or her house, or the things that were in her hotel that day.

In less than a day, she was already thinking that going back hadn’t been the best decision, after all. At least her money was with her. She would wait for the time she set for their date - about a week, because she had thought there would be some chaos from her disappearance, she just failed to foresee other consequences - and then had enough money to book a plane back to her country.

She had trouble sleeping, both excited and afraid for the time of their promise to come. Most of her dreams ended up with him not showing up, or actually showing up, with another woman instead. She had known these could happen, of course, and had told him she just wanted proof that he was well and happy. And maybe the best for him was to forget, rather than spend that much time missing her.

Despite her early angry thoughts, she didn’t wish her loved one such pain.

Maybe she was the one who shouldn’t show up. The request had been selfishly made for her own benefit, and maybe the last thing he needed was to see her again. But after his last words, how could she break a promise she asked from him?

Fear and hope fought for control when she prepared to meet him, he heart hurt like it was being ripped by these warring emotions and, for a while, she felt so sick she was really tempted to give up.

But she didn’t, and he was waiting in front of the café she gave the address of at the proper time. Alone. Looking healthy and very handsome in modern clothing.

All the fear was forgotten the moment their eyes met, and she felt tears burn the back of her eyes again, this time with a smile.

And he smiled back, crossing the distance between them in fast steps and pulling her into a hug.

And she cried again, hiding her face in his chest, enjoying the warmth. His hold on her was tight and words of love were sweetly whispered to her.

People were probably staring but, at least for a few moments, neither of them minded. Because they had each other, and no matter what the future would bring, both of them knew, holding the other, that they would never part again.

They were forced to part when someone actually decided to ask if she was okay, to which her lover said she was crying from the happiness of their long overdue reunion.

For her, it had been about a week, but there was no need to say that.

He insisted on treating her on their first date. They ordered whatever they thought the other would like, and she happily noticed how adapted he was to modern life. Their interactions were like they had never been apart at all.

And when it was time for them to leave, none of them wanted to go their separate ways, so they settled for going together to her hotel, where they could spend the entire night in each other’s arms.

Maybe she still had to return to her country soon, but they would enjoy their time together the most and would try to find a future they could share.

Bodies intertwined, they kissed for the second time in what felt like an eternity for both, words of love whispered to one another whenever they had to part.

These were followed by overdue apologizes for their fight, and from him for being inconsiderate of her feelings and not respecting her right to choose how to live her own life, then a promise they would properly choose the kind of future they wanted together.

He kissed her again and then she snuggled against his chest, making herself more comfortable. There was no place she felt happier or safer than in the arms of the man she loved. And now that they were on the same page, they could look ahead to a bright future together.

He kissed her forehead this time, and she let out a soft hum, tightening her hold on him. That night was the beginning of their happily ever after, and she couldn’t wait for what tomorrow would bring.

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

#ikevamp #ikevamp mc #ikevamp fanfic #fanfiction #fang's writing

36 notes · View notes

horizon-verizon · 1 year

Text

A Response to Ozymalek’s Video on HotD’s Alicent Hightower

LINK to Video on Youtube, “Let's talk about Alicent Hightower...”

This was my comment on their video, specifically responding to them answering the hypothetical of a company asking them to make Alicent a more “sympathetic” character than she was portrayed in the book (skip to 9:07):

Your "sympathetic Alicent" sounds much better. If Alicent were Aemma's lady in waiting and another mother figure to Rhaenyra or at least matronly towards her, Rhaenyra's loss of a mother would make her emotionally more needful of Alicent's presence and they would spend more time together. Perhaps Alicent even becomes Rhaenyra's l-i-w. Viserys, in visiting Rhaenyra, sees Alicent and has more conversation with her than before when she was serving Aemma as Alicent as Aemma's "peer" of age. Having been physically closer to her, Alicent can regale Viserys with moments and memories of Aemma, which would comfort Viserys and bring them closer.

Thus we still have the element of semi-seediness and feeling conflicted for both parties (maybe in this version, Alicent loved or cared for Aemma very much). Thus they have a noncoercive emotional bond that still presents an uncomfortable storyline that audiences contend with: the show could have asked: “Is this right, when Alicent was Aemma's l-i-w? But they like each other, but then Alicent may have a son. Is Rhaenyra going to be disinherited before she ever reaches adulthood, and through her own mother figure? Will Rhaenyra lose another mother? Was this Alicent's plan (even semiconscious) all along? Where does her ambition start and her love for him end?” Etc.

As for Rhaenyra, I think that to some people, the sense of betrayal may not come as sharp as between childhood friends because she already sees Alicent as a mother figure and just lost her mother, she might be grateful for that. Or because they think that mother-daughter figures where "mother" betrays the "daughter" is somehow less poignant or serious than two female peers doing it....but no, it has its own pain and is still a mighty betrayal. It's an adult hurting a child AND having had some sort of genuine connection with her before. Which makes the betrayal as damaging and as terrible as it is. But what makes up for that (or what else, rather than "makes up, "to the careful observer) is Rhaenyra's fear of being replaced--politically and emotionally, being “abandoned” by both matron figure, actual mother, and father all at once.

And what about Alicent, now smarter, thinking of the future and the happenstance of her birthing a boy? Does she now spend less and less time with Rhaenyra, semi/intentionally separating herself from her? To make it juicy, yes she does, and intentionally. Thus the break between "mother-daughter" occurs even before Viserys marries Alicent, as each woman sees the other's ambition and priorities. She and Alicent can get into actual public debates and confrontations even before Alicent marries Viserys because 15-year-old Rhaenyra sees the writing on the wall. If she is 9, like in the book, Alicent could still try to separate herself from Rhaenyra, or a change worth exploring is that she actually does try to foster goodwill between them so that later when she fights for Aegon's claim, Rhaenyra is more conflicted and caught off guard (in Alicent's perspective).

What's even juicier is that 9-yr old Rhaenyra perhaps feels more and more, as she grows, Alicent's duplicity and lack of earnestness in her regard and affection before and after marrying Viserys. Children are people, they can still feel ill will or impatience from adults and this itself could make a stifling environment for Rhaenyra, and set up her self-doubt. This woman has always cared for me and she loves my mother, aren't I betraying her by questioning her intentions? That sort of thing. The queen's party is small and discreet until Alicent accidentally shows her hand or Rhaenyra hears what happens with Otto's dismissal and hears Alicent vie for Aegon.

The point is there is a break. Here is still room for feelings of betrayal that are also suppressed, by both women/girls. After Viserys shows how he doesn't want Aegon despite Alicent caring for him and building an actual relationship with him, she grows resentful while also feeling it her duty to be emotionally accommodating to a degree and out of Viserys' line of sight. Most of the time. Sometimes, she can't help but direct her resentment to Rhaenyra through innuendoes, subtle insults, recriminations for slouching, looking a certain way, acting "unseemly", etc. Because maybe she convinces herself that as the Queen and Rhaenyra's stepmother, she has a duty to "guide" her toward that only "right" way of dress, thinking, etc. Meanwhile, she's not being totally honest with herself and is actually trying to break Rhaenyra down while gathering her own supporters. Before Viserys dismisses her suggestion to marry Rhaenyra to Aegon, she thinks that she's molding Rhaenyra to be a good woman for her son.

Thus leading to Rhaenyra's red/black dress moment, and Alicent reacting to that by also declaring her party's color, green. I think we can still have Otto being emotionally abusive towards Alicent from her childhood, and inserting even more motivation for her wanting power, some of her attraction for Viserys, and wanting her son on the throne. It doesn't have to be all about Otto hurting her and wanting power over him, escaping him, or surpassing him (though that would be still part of it).

So then we’d have a better narrative and concrete scenes in her childhood/adolescence of her anxiety growing and growing, more than what we got in the show. She may also just want power that the average noblewoman/woman of Andal-descent families get and feel justified in wanting such power by serving Aemma, being Rhaenyra's role model (in her eyes), and bringing comfort to Viserys. Like Catelyn, Alicent could have had a living contradiction in her belief that she, as a woman, was entitled to decision-making power, but through her son and husband being paths to that power denied to her. Using as well misogynist principles to place herself on top. That need for power would itself be corrupting.

blankwhiteshield says this:

You can have an irredeemable and evil character that the patriarchy still suppresses and affects the psychology of immensely, rendering her a bigger monster. The commentary on the destructive capacity of static social constructs is not lost as a result. A character can turn into the devil of the story due to a world that ceaselessly strips her of her humanity, as well as as a result of the choices she actively makes.

#alicent hightower #alicent's characterization #hotd characterization #house of the dragon #hotd critical #hotd comment #asoiaf youtubers #hotd video #asoiaf videos #hotd #asoiaf #ozymalek #phoenixashes

25 notes · View notes

sunwarmed-ash · 6 months

Text

Sinful Sunday: On deck- Figure You Out

okay so really the backstory of this whole fic was I got stoned and was starting to try to write and Figure You Out by VIOLA came on spotify. Less than 12 seconds into the song the angsty Steddiegrove story started forming in my brain.

Then I started thinking about how it would be cooler if Eddie performed this modified version of the song post breakup with Billy. and THEN I started thinking about who would be on tour with Corroded Coffin and because this is my fic and my obsessions I chose OG Panic! At The Disco :D

thus the steddiegrove, rydon, eddie/brendon 2000s band au fic was born

i also didn't expect to write more than the song fic haha so thats why theres only one chapter. Maybe if yall like it enough ill write more 👿

CHAPTER DROPPING THIS SUNDAY!!

in the meantime, here's a little teaser

Chicago: Punk Never Dies Tour 2005

Panic! At The Disco has just cleared the stage and their stage crew is busy setting up Corroded Coffins gear while the crowd demands a second encore. It's been a few days, since his break up with Billy, but it's still eating at Eddie. He hates that he's in such a bad mood. He loves the stage. He loves performing. But his personal life can’t get its fucking shit together and its bleeding all over his stage persona. Even two weeks later.

He's far enough into his head he doesn't even notice there's someone in front of him until they make physical contact.

“Eds? You good man?”

It's Gareth. 15 years his band mate and he knows Eddie and his moods like the back of his hand. Eddie gives him a tight lipped smile. He's not. Not even a little.

“Yeah man, sorry. Didn't sleep great last night.”

Gareth smirks and rolls his eyes.

“So I guess I should be blaming Billy then.”

Any other day, Eddie would laugh it off. Maybe agree, flirt, or make an over the top sexual remark. But not today. Not after Billy yanked out his heart, crushed it with his boot and then pissed on it.

“We’re done.”

Gareth's playful face drops and he looks a little queasy.

“S-Shit, man, I-I’m so sorry.”

“You didn't know,” Eddie says, shaking his head and slapping the back of his bandmates shoulder to indicate the end of that conversation. “Come on, gotta get warmed up.”

Billy is practically vibrating out of his skin. He looks like he's either going to pass out or throw up.

“I don't wanna be here Steve,” he says for the 7th time since they arrived at the small venue, but based on the never ending mood swings and constant name dropping of his ex, it's more than obvious to Steve Billy does want to be here. Needs it actually. Steve knows Billy never should of broken up with Eddie. Even if the blonde convinces himself, poorly, he's better off without him.

“Yes, you do. Come on, I’m right here. I’ll be right here, the whole time.”

The stage lights change and Eddie turns to face the crowd, still high off that last long. Evidently so are they, because the pit is still active and Eddie watches with glee as the security guards try and fail to stop it. He's arguably feeling a little bit better. Their first few songs have turned an already wild crowd feral. He makes a risky decision, and hopes it's the right one.

“Okay so this next song is brand new. LIke, I wrote it a week ago new. And, well, it's drastically different than anything we've ever written or performed, but I don't know, what do you think guys? Think this is a good crowd for it?”

The crowd explodes and Eddie laughs, high off their approval.

“Alright alright, ya convinced us,” he says before nodding to the band to start setting up for their new song. Gareth changes his black bass for an electric-red one, Jeff swaps his bass for the electric violin, and Mike starts up the simple, repetitive drumline with a bass boosted modification. Eddie switches his handheld microphone for a headset, eagerly waiting for his tour mate to return to the side stage.

The song starts off starts off slow, with a deep base undertone accentuated by an electric violin that Eddie thought feels so sexy once they get to the chorus. He's never performed it live before, only twice at practice before the concert tonight, but in his head it's going to be sexy. Mostly, he just had alot of feelings about one resident asshole Billy Hargrove that he needs to get out. The stage is where he healed.

#sinful sunday post #figure you out #steddiegrove #rydon #eddie munson #brendon urie #panic at the disco #ryan ross #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #find me on ao3 #sunwarmed ash #links in bio #i post new stuff every sunday #sinful sunday

5 notes · View notes