#but at the detriment of his own feelings since ya know. this was a HUGE life altering shake-up for him as well. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wispforever · 3 years

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if youre still doing the character thing, how about spirit or marie?

I sure am. How about Spirit And Marie? Both wonderful characters. I’ll do Marie first, then Spirit. Thanks for the excuse to infodump, really. You people are too kind.

Marie Mjolnir

My first impression of Marie was the same impression I get of most female characters in anime. It’s either “why do their clothes have to look like that” or “oh god here comes the obligatory sexist heteronormative romance”. For Marie, it was more of the second. They mention in the same episode she’s introduced that Stein is her “first love”, which told me that if she had a large place in the plot, her assigned male counterpart around which to orbit would be him. Though I’ve never read the Soul Eater manga, I believe they do end up getting together there (I could be wrong). Whatever the case, I was relieved that Marie’s and Stein’s relationship (though heavily implied to be romantic, at least on Marie’s side) was left open to interpretation in the anime. I’m just very sick of cool badass female characters like Marie being reduced to the man they pine after. So, I guess my first impression of Marie and my impression of her now are largely the same. While I appreciate the moments we get to see her strengths and ability to operate on her own, I do think that her character really suffers because of the whole sexist “oh gosh all I want is to find a husband and retire” “oh my I have to take care of Stein” like okay, I had enough at the cat girl smothering Soul with her humungo-tits. I had enough at sexualizing underage girls and women in general. I had enough at making sexual harassment a punchline. That being said, when we push all of the shitty writing to the side, I admire Marie for her strength and how she interacts with the children, Crona in particular. Which leads me to my favorite moment(s).

The relationship Crona and Marie have interests me the most, since I’m really drawn to the parallels between Marie and Medusa. As parental figures (and as characters), they’re about as different as you can get. As Crona’s mother, Medusa is obviously abusive. Along with being negligent, she abuses Crona mentally, emotionally, and physically. In general, Medusa is a person who doesn’t appear to value interpersonal relationships, putting it nicely. She instead is more focused on her own interests, often to the detriment of those around her. Crona is Medusa’s only immediate family (besides Arachne who she is estranged from), and so they suffer the most from her refusal to show even a shred of human decency or warmth. They suffer especially because they are her child, meaning they’re stuck with her essentially, and repetivie abuse between family members like a mother and child often becomes complex because of the necessity of having a parental figure in your life to support you as you grow up. Medusa teaches Crona that their boundaries don’t matter and that they are only good as long as they are useful and do as they’re told. This is what makes Marie’s influence on Crona so cool to watch. Marie is caring by nature, loving and nurturing by nature. Her very wavelegnth is healing. She is kind and does what’s right reflexively. Marie is the exact embodiment of what Crona always needed but what, even upon being rescued by the academy, still felt so foreign to them: unconditional love. Crona struggles to understand why the other kids helped them, why Maka felt the inclination to stop their battle and save Crona instead by trying to understand them, why the kids are still so kind to them even after everything. They do not understand that love is not a bargaining chip. It isn’t leverage in an argument. It’s not a tool for emotional manipulation. Love is caring for the people close to you, just because. Love for the sake of love. The other kids and teachers at the academy are the ones who are able to pull Crona out of all Medusa’s lies, and Marie is a Huge part of that. Even though I have greivances with this being the largest part of her character and what that implies for female characters in general, it doesn’t stop being so beautiful to me that she could help Crona heal in this way. Marie = best mom for the win

Most of the story ideas I have for Marie involve her relationship with Crona or Stein. Say, this covers my unpopular opinion too. I don’t like Stein and Marie as a couple, but I really enjoy writing them as friends, because even though I don’t really jive with them being together romantically, I think their dynamic is an interesting one to explore because they Are so different.

Getting into that a little bit more, I’d like to start by saying I don’t care if other people like Stein and Marie being a couple. That’s great doods, keep doing you. The fanart’s adorable, the meta’s fantastic. Whoever you are, SteinMarie shippers, ffs keep kicking ASS. This is just my preference and opinion. Zero shade in this house. That said, because of my frustrations about Marie’s character I discussed in the first paragraph, I don’t like the idea of her and Stein being together romantically. It’s really a classic sexist trope: the troubled man and his sweet nurse. I’m also just fed up in general with the hetero-nonsense, so there. However, they are both wonderful characters that I enjoy very much seperately. Also, I think it’s worth mentioning that I’ve only seen the anime, so I can’t speak for the manga as far as their relationship or Marie’s character in general.

Oh shit I accidentally already talked about this one lmao [see the second paragraph]

One headcanon I like to think about when I’m writing Marie is that she likes women (in addition to men or not) and she struggles with comphet. Just something interesting I like to think about. It’s really fun for me to take characters who have been written as pining or had 10 million failed relationships and be like “say what if they can’t find a husband cuz really what they really need is a wife”. I’ll talk about that more with Spirit inevitably.

Spirit Albarn

My first impression of Spirit, obviously him being a cheater, really came with a lot of distaste. I come from a family that was torn apart by infidelity, among other things, so it really rubs me the wrong way. However, his saving grace for me was that he genuinely loves his daughter. It appears that, whether it’s played for laughs or not, he just can’t find fulfillment in his romantic relationships. The reason is left up to the veiwers. Spirit, ultimately, is not just a shitty person, which is how most cheaters are protrayed in media. “Well, they cheated because they don’t care if they hurt people”, “they cheated because they are shit and that’s it”. That’s a fine explanation if you plan to do nothing with whatever character you’re describing, but Spirit is relatively recurring and is shown to be neither mean-spirited or emotionally unintelligent. It bothers me that his cheating and routine sexist behaviour isn’t taken seriously enough to be a subject that Soul Eater tackles and deals with. But that’s fine. I’ll just do it myself. At any rate, I still feel that same way about Spirit’s character, but I find it intriguing that he seems to genuinely want to become a better father and is actually a pretty good dad when it comes to his interactions with Maka. If Soul Eater had been brave enough to develop him more, maybe delve into the reasoning behind his impulsive romantic affairs, I think Spirit as a character could have been done more justice. It seems to me that he could be suffering from some of that wonderful compulsory heterosexuality that I mentioned before, then becoming confused when the woman he claims to love leaves him feeling empty. Rattling my gay little cage

When I think of my favorite moments with Spirit, I think of his moments with Maka, but I’m gonna hold off on that until I get to favorite relationship(s). In reference to what I talked about in the first paragraph, one moment I find really interesting when I’m thinking about my interpretation of Spirit’s character is the scene where he and Maka are on the roof talking. Maka asks Spirit why he cheated on her mother if he did, in fact, love her. He doesn’t appear to know the answer, and he doesn’t really understand how to effectively communicate that, though he was shitty husband, what he really wants now is to try and be a better dad. We hear his inner monologue, and he says something like “I love you [Maka] and your mama. That’s the truth. That’s the truth. That’s the truth.” Every time he says “its the truth” it sounds more like he’s forcing it. This is actually something that is SO strange to me. Even if I didn’t project a queer narrative on to the characters I love, I would look at this and be like “huh that is a Weird thing to say in that specific way”. Why does he say it like that? Why does he have to say it more than once? He’s only talking to HIMSELF. It isn’t like he’s trying to convince Maka. Why does he have to convince himself?? Could it possibly be because he’s reached a conclusion about his romantic/sexual orientation that he’s been trying to swallow his Entire Life??? makes ya wonder, doesn’t it, queers?

Just like I said when I talked about Stein, most of the stories I have in mind with Spirit center around that sweet gayness. But also, I like to think of ways Spirit could come to terms with his sexuality, how it might have affected him when he was young, his relationship with all these women, with his wife. I love to think about him being a dad at 18 and trying his best, but how much responsibility that must have been. Lots of great ideas when it comes to Spirit.

Um? unpopular opinion would be all the standard like I said with Stein lmao. “Oh no!” scream the heteros, “that they/them on tumblr is making Soul Eater queer we canst not allow that in our church!!!111!” But besides that, maybe even the fact that I think he’s redeemable?? Idk most everyone I’ve met thinks Spirit is funny at least and just calls him a dumbass and a slut (affectionate). Doesn’t mean anybody thinks cheating on your wife 56 times is okay so. I like this fandom, it’s chill here. My favorite is when I see my art tagged like “aw the stupid man and his crazy bf” like YOU ARE RIGHT

My favorite relationship when it comes to Spirit (besides Stein cuz if I start talking about them again I’ll never finish this ask) is the one he has with Maka. If you can call it a relationship lol. I guess I just find Spirit’s approach to Maka as a parent really refreshing. Not that the parents in other shows don’t love their kids or whatever, it’s just that the loving parent always seems to be paired with some other trope that makes their character hard to approach. especially in anime. Like the perfect mother who dies in the first episode, and we spend the rest of the show mourning her. Or the father whose love is somehow everlasting even though he’s never home. It’s really the fact that Spirit is even THERE that I love. He knows what Maka is up to. He talks about her. He’s invested in her life, and he loves her. All he wants is to spend time with her, and though he’s sad when she turns him down, he doesn’t push her. god dammit I just like a dad who actually loves his kids without all the usual strings attached like. oh my kids are a huge pain in my ass, but I love them in spite of it. oh i’m a man so can’t relate to my children in a meaningful way but i try. Get the fuck outta here with that shit. I want all the dads to get so happy when their daughters wanna hang with them that they throw up like Spirit. Give me the guy who loves his daughter so naturally, whose daughter is such a huge part of his life, that it doesn’t even occur to him stop trying even if she literally wants to murder him. That’s Spirit. jfc

To end with a cute little headcanon, I really love to think that when Spirit gets older and starts losing the color in his hair, instead of getting white or grey, his hair turns a pale pink color cuz he’s such an aggressive redhead. Wouldn’t that just be adorable? late 30′s, early 40′s, Spirit starts getting little pink streaks in his hair and then bam. Little pink old man Spirit XD

There ya have it. Thanks for the ask, and feel free to send more.

#Soul Eater #Ask #Ask game #anon #Marie Mjolnir #Spirit Albarn #this is wisp

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years

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sorry for all the harry potter posting in 2021…. but like….. reflecting on just how dark the later books were/are, why on earth did every harry potter fan always romanticise having a movie marathon with the movies??? like yeah, it’s basically what i’ve been doing for the last few weekends staying at my sister’s on my own…. and since i’ve been awake this morning, i’ve gone through ootp, hbp and deathly hallows part 1 so far….. and like…… these movies, to me, aren’t really made for marathon watching/binge watching in a sense….. due to the heavy subject matter imo. they’re made to be standalone (although part of a series) viewed movies one by one, not back to back to back in succession; when there’s just so many incredibly substantial themes like death and obviously racism, systemic corruption etc etc. to be thought about while watching.

like of course everyone is going to say that im reading far too deeply into this and that the hp books and movies are trash….. but like the constant romanticisation in the 2000s and early 2010s of wanting to do harry potter marathons as if they were as cutesy and happy go-lucky as romcoms…. or simply just as lighthearted kids movies backed by whimsy and fuzzy feelings back in the day, was just so fucking backward.

like obvs since im older now, i can see that harry was abused by petunia & vernon for example. and by reading other teen fiction (specifically aussie YA fiction series’ tomorrow when the war began series and the ellie chronicles trilogy); harry’s horrible dreams/flashbacks of cedric before/after he was killed in goblet of fire is a symptom of PTSD (which i read in harry potter essays in uni when i did i philosophy essay on epistemic injustice in ootp in the courtroom scene). i can actually see how harry is being used as a pawn by dumbledore in his master plan. and obvs in analysing these things im putting my apparently “useless” arts degree in english and philosophy to use lmao. and of course as kids, we either ignored those themes or never picked up on them because they went straight over our heads.

on this bent then, another YA movie series that is NOT made for binge watching is the hunger games. which i found out to my own kind of detriment last year….. considering that i had never bothered to read the books back when they were popular past the titular namesake hunger games book (and had also forgotten all the early 2010s tumblr posts about how dark it was)…. while deciding to watch all the movies til catching fire part 1 in a binge watch sesh in the middle of 2020. the binge watch sesh was also spurred on by the book about young president snow that came out in 2020 lol.

so last year, when i finally decided to watch hunger games, i could actually understand and contemplate the political ramifications of katniss’s & peeta’s behaviour and defiance… which was something that i completely brushed off while it was hugely popular in the early 2010s because it was “too political”…… while i utterly denied the GLARINGLY OBVIOUS major political undertones and themes in harry potter because i was so obsessed with it….. but I obvs was most specifically preoccupied with what hogwarts house i’d be in lmao and whether i was more like hermione/luna/ginny or a mix of all of them. like yeah. it was so backward.

of course, the HP movies do have a bingeable quality to them; but my god. from really goblet of fire onwards, they’re heavy as fuck and really don’t need to be binged back to back in succession….. like you can do with how i met your mother or Loki eps in terms of tv shows. or idek, for movies, old rom-com faves like suddenly 30/13 going on 30 or rom-coms starring sandra bullock (bc they’re some of my faves)…. or teen indie comedy faves like juno or napoleon dynamite.

bc harry potter at it’s core, is a war story, more obviously from the end of GOF til the end of the series. it’s heavy, it’s dark, and emotionally devastating (for me when i was younger obvs). in some scenes, such as when harry returns with cedric’s dead body in GOF and it’s backed by the cheery marching band music but then drowned out by fleur’s scream and amos diggory dramatically scream sobbing “MY BOOOOOY!!! MY SOOON!!! MY BOY IS DEAD!!!!” (which as a kid i used to laugh incredibly inappropriately at every bloody time i watched it)…. but NOW??? THE PAIN! THE SUFFERING! THE TURMOIL! which is finally paired with the sad score music and camera panning out from the tri-wizard cup school stadium??? oh! i am but torn asunder by it all (okay not really, but i feel amos’s pain more acutely and i can shed a tear or two is the point here). and speaking of GOF, it’s pretty sad that over the years, it’s always been reduced to “C A L M L Y” and hermione’s yule ball dress being pink instead of blue bc of both the real and supposed lack of book to film accuracy…. when there’s obvs more important things to focus on lol.

bc literally one of the most horrifying scenes in the gof movie for me, in retrospect, is voldemort being reborn???? and wormtail sacrificing his own hand to get that essentially cursed silver hand that ends up strangling him to death in DHP1. and also david tennant’s albeit very disappointingly short appearances as barty crouch jr???? that was good casting. and also the incredibly fucked up storyline in GOF of BCJ imprisoning the real mad eye moody in moody’s own enchanted chest for his hair for polyjuice potion???? it hit me last week again (bc it hit me in 2020 when i reread the series with audiobooks as well) just how ridiculously FUCKED UP and BATSHIT that ENTIRE storyline really was. and i read and watched that???? and was fine with it at 10 years old???? jesus christ lmao.

okay. i went a bit off topic and overboard. but y’all get what i mean??? it’s so weird that an entire generation romanticised a YA series that was essentially about a war in its later instalments (and obvs a full blown one by deathly hallows) as some cutesy marathonable story bc it was/is so whimsical and its filled with childhood memories. but in doing it myself over the last few weeks, it’s just not. it was definitely one of the heftiest book series for kids/teens back then. but also for the movies, aside for their run times mostly all being close to 3hrs long, they’re quite emotionally charged and are astonishingly dark & dense in subject matter/themes for a KIDS movie series for the backend of the series. and mostly the only reason it’s “marathonable” in a sense, is because we all know the story so well.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona liveblogs her rewatching of the hp movies #harry potter #HP

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lavendersoft · 4 years

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Until I met you.

-Street fighter!Jimin x Reader

1/?

Synopsis: While on a date for their 2nd anniversary, Jimin loses Yoongi while being attacked in an alleyway by a robber. Yoongi sacrificed himself for his lover and Jimin could never forgive himself for not being able to do the same. The survivor’s guilt ate away at him over the months and it definitely didn’t help that he saw Yoongi’s face everywhere. In mirrors, dreams, large crowds, on trains, and even when he closed his eyes. Although, Jimin found a way to cope. He began a rigorous training schedule. Boxing, self-defense classes, Tae Kwon Do, he even started street fighting and got caught up with bad people. Anything and everything. His hands would bleed, his muscles would ache, his bones would break. Jimin was offered multiple full scholarships to prestigious martial arts schools for his talent, all of which Jimin turned down. He didn’t want to make a career out of this, he just didn’t want to be haunted by his dead fiancé. The only time Yoongi won’t haunt every moment of Jimin’s life was when he’s training, as if Yoongi is saying “I won’t rest, nor will I let you rest, until you’re stronger.” Jimin will never lose anyone that he loves again.

Everything felt like a downward spiral,

until he met you.

Warnings: (There’s a lot- and it’s kinda dark, be warned) PTSD, implied schizophrenia (sorta? take that with a grain of salt), PTSD induced delusions/hallucinations, depression, paranoia, night terrors, character death, major angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, masochism(?), alcoholism, minor gore, mention of drug abuse, mention of blood, mention of asylums, profanity, Jimin goes through one hell of a mental breakdown.

Author’s notes: super slow burn :/ basically, in which jimin copes with the traumatic incident of his fiancé’s brutal murder by street fighting. this story isn’t yandere but has dark themes.

The air was lifted right out of Jimin’s lungs. Tears were flowing freely, his hands were stained red, he couldn’t even see the golden engagement ring through the thick blood. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own sobs and heartbreak.

“Please... please stay awake. They’re coming, okay? Help’s coming. Just look at me. Look at me, please.”

He’d remembered somewhere that you were supposed to put pressure on wounds this big to stop the bleeding. If only his hands could stop shaking.

Yoongi had stopped responding about two minutes prior to this but Jimin refused to accept his fate. His last words replaying in Jimin’s mind like a mantra.

“Survive. Please, live. I love you.”

Two wallets.

Two fucking wallets with about 150,000 won split between them.

That’s how much his fiancé was murdered for.

Jimin jerks awake in a cold sweat. His bruised fist clamped around his bedsheets, heart rate much higher than it should be. He rises out of the creaking bed to stretch his overly tense muscles.

He can still feel the weight of his deceased boyfriend’s limp body in his arms.

Every day starts like this.

Every morning he’s pulled from the same reoccurring nightmare, then he starts his cold shower.

He can’t even take warm showers anymore, remembering how hot Yoongi insisted on keeping the water temperature when they showered together.

It’s been nine months.

Nine months, two weeks and four days since he lost the love of his life forever.

He hasn’t even taken off the engagement ring. It’s as if it’s glued to his finger now, his hand feels empty without it.

Jimin avoids looking in the mirror at all costs. In fact, he’s gotten rid of most of them in his home. The ones he couldn’t get rid of, he smashed with his bare hands in a fit of rage. The scars on his hands are proof.

How could he look at himself knowing how weak he was?

He scoffs.

Back then... how could I bare to tolerate myself back then? I was so flimsy and weak. Could barely open a fucking jar by myself. Absolutely pathetic.

Jimin’s heart has gotten callous. He is easily provoked and irrational. The takes unnecessary risks and is impulsive.

His therapist said it was “self-sabotage” or something.

Just two weeks ago, Jimin bleached his hair a striking blond, almost white- which burned most of his scalp- just because. And before that, on the nine-month anniversary of his lover’s passing, he went to get a tattoo on a whim. Just because he felt like it. He drinks alcohol for breakfast and has recently taken up smoking. The smell of cigarettes remind him of Yoongi, who also used to smoke.

Jimin liked pain. It was invigorating. He likes feeling things. Feeling has become a rarity, a privilege, a novelty.

Although irritable and easily angered, Jimin is not an unkind person. He gives to charity and volunteers at animal shelters. These things have also made him feel again, because he can feel Yoongi there, the real Yoongi. Yoongi was a huge advocate for human kindness. He used to say it was never justifiable to be a hateful person for no reason at all.

Jimin clings to this principal.

But it’s hard. It’s so hard to act happy when he’s so broken inside. He almost wishes he could just-

“Don’t you dare use me as an excuse to be a miserable person.” Yoongi’s voice rings out from behind him. Jimin screws his eyes shut and covers his ears.

“Go away.”

This person- this being- wasn’t Yoongi, that much he knew. If anything, it was a demon. A poltergeist that feeds off Jimin’s suffering. Yoongi would never do that.

This is why everyone around Jimin thinks he’s the sweetest, loveliest, most endearing man they’ve ever met. If only they knew about the unyielding hellfire that burns his very core.

“Good morning, Mrs. Jeon!” Jimin’s sweet voice cuts through the morning air.

He was on his way to his best friend Jungkook’s house to meet before Tae Kwon Do training. The Jeon family owns a martial arts studio and they’ve been training together for months now.

“Oh, good morning Jimin! How are you today?” The nice woman is always so cheerful, Jimin respects that.

“I’m wonderful, thank you. Have you heard from Jungkook? He’s supposed to meet me here.” Jimin hurry’s to catch up with the woman in front of him and takes her groceries off of her arms to carry.

“Yes, actually. He was running a tad late this morning since his class ended late. He should be here soon. Would you mind bringing those up for me?” She gestured to the apartment right above the studio, where the family lives.

“Not at all.”

When Jungkook finally arrives, he brings with him thirty-two excuses as to why he was late.

“I lost my phone.”

“My car ran out of gas.”

“My girlfriend broke up with me.”

Jimin chuckles as he suits up his training gear.

“Dude, if all of those things are true, you really need to get your life together.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Jimin’s heart stops when the cold, low growl sounds from behind him again.

“You’re far from qualified to be giving life advice.”

Jimin hides his frown when the oblivious Jungkook punches him on the shoulder playfully.

“Haha! Shut up, dude! Let’s go.” He chides, padding off to the ring.

Jimin’s falters a bit behind, throwing a quick but cautious glance at the bloody image of Yoongi that glares back at him.

“Pathetic.”

“Seriously, dude! You’re way too talented at this to not make some money off of it.”

Jungkook’s been trying to get Jimin to take the scholarship he was offered by a scout that visited their studio not too long ago.

“I don’t know, man. This was just supposed to be a hobby remember?”

Jimin knew better. This was much more than a hobby. It was his anchor. It was his stress reliever. It was keeping him sane.

“Come on. We both know better than that. I see the way your face changes to stone when you fight. You have something. Something real. You could make it in the business!”

“You sound like a mafia boss.”

Jimin smiles as he eats the last of his ramen.

“Ya. I’m serious. If not a professional fighter then at least a coach. I mean, I’m doing it because I wanna be a cop but,” Jungkook sips from his energy drink. “Do you really just want to be a dancer?”

Jimin sighs. Yes. That was his dream before everything happened. He still clings to the idea. Before nine months ago, the idea had seemed just within reach. He’d applied for so many dance and art schools, even getting into a couple.

But after everything, he’d given up. He stopped dancing. He hates music. Even if he tried, his skills wouldn’t be anywhere near the place they were.

He’d totally abandoned his dream.

“Yes. I do.” He lies.

Jungkook shrugs, “Well, if anything, it’s made you a better fighter. Your moves are so fluid, it’s amazing.”

“Careful, you’re getting a crush.” Jimin jabs at him with a chopstick.

“Ugh. Please,” the younger rolls his eyes, “like I could ever. Plus, my girlfriend probably wouldn’t like that very much.”

“Oh? I thought you two ‘broke up’, no?”

“Nah. I love her too much.” Jimin finds it cute that Jungkook actually loves his girlfriend. Before, he was a player, only using girls for sex or free food.

“Don’t use girls like toys, Jungkook.” Yoongi would always keep Jungkook in place when he broke another heart.

“Well, this ones on you. Since you lost. Again.” Jimin’s giggle makes Jungkook pout.

“One of these days, I’m gonna beat you, Park Jimin.” Jungkook pouts.

“One of these days.” Jimin reiterates.

Jimin says goodbye to his friend and pushes through the restaurant door. He misses the worried look Jungkook gives him when he turns his back.

The raindrops hit the top of the hood of Jimin’s jacket as he walks down the busy street. He hates being too alone these days. Jungkook really helps keep Jimin grounded, he’s one of the only people that don’t totally annoy him now. He reminds Jimin of all the times Yoongi, Jungkook, Tae, Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, and himself would hang out as teens and young adults. Just fooling around without any worry. No cares or responsibilities, young love, parties. That was their lives.

Until nine months ago.

The grief of losing one of the group was detrimental. It seemed like no one was recovering properly, except maybe Jungkook. That’s why Jimin cohered himself to Jungkook, he seemed to be the most stable out of them all.

Namjoon and Tae both landed themselves in jail on multiple occasions for a plethora of reasons.

Hoseok checked himself into a mental asylum for a while. Last Jimin heard, he was abusing drugs of some sort.

And Jin moved across the country, said he wanted to start fresh. But really, he was just doing what Jin did best- running away.

None of them kept contact, except for Jungkook.

The entire carefree, wild group of friends had dissipated into nothing.

He feels his eyebrows furrow into a stern look.

They all left.

“They all left you.” His jaw clenches at the familiar, yet slightly inhuman voice. “They never cared about you. And Jungkook will leave you one day, too. No one is forever.”

Jimin’s turns down an alleyway and stops about halfway through, tears gathered in his eyes.

“No one is forever, but at least they keep moving forward. You’re just stuck.”

Yeah, Jimin truly hates being alone.

The not-so-subtle red neon sign flickers with the bright name of the “club.”

The large metal door makes a shallow sound when Jimin’s taps on it three times. A man wearing all black with sunglasses answers, “Passwo- oh, Jimin-ah. Come on in.”

Jimin nods once to the tall bodyguard as he passes him. The man towers over Jimin in height but the energy around the two doesn’t match. The man takes a small, nervous step back when Jimin starts forward.

Jimin hates how skittish everyone is in this little hole in the wall.

The biggest underground fighting ring in Korea was right next door to Jimin’s apartment, who would have thought. How convenient.

Heads bow as he passes. No one makes eye contact. Some mumble respectful greetings while putting honorifics next to his name, no matter what age or status they have.

He’s basically a king here.

But he doesn’t want the throne.

Jimin’s peers into the crowd and sure enough, sights his dead lover. He just wants this damn demon to leave him alone.

Yoongi never bothers him while he’s fighting or training. It’s like he goes dormant or something. That’s why Jimin keeps doing it. Well, that and because he wants to be strong. Stronger than he’s ever been.

And he is. He’s undefeated in this hellhole. He sort of blanks out when he fights anyone that’s not Jungkook. That’s how he earned the appropriate nickname “Demon”, for good reason. He’s heard from others that’s he’s terrifying when he’s in the ring. Although no one but his manager and couple other higher-ups dare to call him that, and he barely even tolerates that.

The last newcomer that called him that learned through a crushed windpipe to not.

He only does this to pay the bills. Everyone here knows that. It pisses some people off. For some, this was their entire life, what they were raised to do. Born to be fighting machines.

So, naturally, some don’t like Jimin. Especially those who he’s fought and won against. But Jimin couldn’t care less about what these people think about him.

“Manager-nim,” Jimin addresses an older man, somewhere in his forties, “I need you to schedule another Gold for me.”

See, the underground business is one built on ranking.

In the underground street fighting business, fights were categorized by prize earning and rank of the fighters. Gold rank fights could only be scheduled by- and usually for- the highest members, the Elites. The grand prize for a win was seven hundred million won. Only the greatest of the greatest won the prize and thus, earning an elite status (if not an elite already).

Jimin’s won it twice.

“Ya, getting pretty greedy now, are we? You just won it a couple months ago, Kid. Where’d that money go?”

“It’s gone.”

The suited man scoffs, “You need a better budgeting plan, Demon.” Jimin fights the urge to uppercut him.

“Can you do it or not?” Jimin’s patience is already wearing thin and he’s been here for a whole five minutes.

“You know, contrary to what you might believe, I’m not a money machine. The money you win when you fight comes from somewhere. Not only that, I’m not the only Elite that gets to decide. We take a vote.”

“Well vote.”

“Aish.” He growls, “You’re something else. People here are gonna start to think I favor you, and that’s dangerous for the both of us.” He pauses to look Jimin in the eyes, “You know, you have all of the qualifications to make the Elite status. Why don't you do the initiation-”

“Let me know when you have an answer.” Jimin’s made his feelings on the subject clear already. He has no intention of making this a permanent thing. This isn't a lifestyle, this isn't his job. It’s just a way to relieve his stress and make some cash.

With that, Jimin takes his leave, disappearing into the same direction from which he came. He’s truly a mysterious phenomenon.

Jungkook: hey do u wanna meet me and Jiyoo tonight for dinner?

Jimin peers down at his phone in confusion.

Jimin: uh third-wheeling really isn’t my thing lol

Jungkook: no, no we have someone we want you to meet. she’s Jiyoo’s sister and she’s just come home from college.

Jimin groans. This isn’t the first time Jungkook’s tried to set him up since Yoongi passed. He appreciates the sentiment but Jimin doesn’t think he’ll ever love someone like that again. It’s too much to ask for.

Jimin: idk man i’m pretty tired from training today. i think i’m gonna pass.

Jungkook: pretty please?

Ugh.

Jimin shoves a pillow over his face in frustration. He’s never been able to tell the kid no. And besides that- Jimin can feel the beady eyes of the shadowy figure in the corner. No, he doesn’t really want to stay here.

Jimin: fine.

—

The restaurant is filled with all sorts of people. From children to the elderly. Jimin gazes from person to person trying to decipher what kind of person they are. He tries to hinder the negative thoughts from entering his mind about them.

Jungkook’s always late. Always. When Jungkook says “5:30” he really means “6:00.” You’d think after almost a decade of knowing the kid, Jimin would learn.

He fidgets with the sleeves of his sweater. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? Was it because these blind dates never end well? He thinks back to the last blind date Jungkook had set him up with.

Jimin shudders.

He can still hear the innocent girl’s cries as she fled his apartment, heartbroken.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as an arm slings around his shoulder, “Hey, man.”

Jungkook’s bright smile beams at him.

“Hey. Hi, Jiyoo.” He greets the couple as they take their seats.

“Hey, Jiminie.” Jungkook’s girlfriend was super cute, he’ll give her that.

“So..?” He’s confused time see that they came alone.

“Oh, she’s coming. My little sister is always a little late.”

Later than you both?

Jimin stops himself from the bitterness that threatens to erupt again. Not tonight. He’s going to try to be on his best behavior for his friend’s sake.

He’ll save all those pent up emotions for the fight he has scheduled tomorrow.

He vaguely registers the figure that makes its way into his peripheral vision, although he pays it no mind at first.

“Oh, Y/n! It’s good to see you again.” Jungkook seems a bit overly excited. What’s all the fuss about? It’s not like-

Oh.

Okay, so she’s, like, really pretty. So what?

“Hi, Jungkook. Nice to see you. Jiyoo!” The girl walks over to embrace her sister tightly, “Oh my God, it feels like it’s been forever.”

After they take their greetings, the woman sits down across from Jimin.

“Hello, you must be Jimin. Jungkook’s told me so much about you. I’m Y/n.”

Okay, so she has the voice of an angel, big deal.

“Um, hi- yeah, I’m Jimin.” He reaches out to take the hand she offers.

“So, Y/n’s a dancer,” Jungkook starts when the food is placed in front of them, “and she’s really good.”

“Not that good.” She blushes.

“Don’t be modest, Y/n. She’s going to a really prestigious dance school on a full scholarship!” Her sister beams.

“Oh? Which one?” Jimin presses. It’s not like he’s interested or anything. Definitely not.

“Global. Global Dance Studio.” She answers.

“Ah. I heard they were good.” Jimin knows more than he let on. That was literally his dream school.

“Yeah, but strict. The training is brutal.” She emphasizes. He knows, he had to go through the same treatment. He hates that he feels a pang of jealousy and resentment towards this person he’s just met.

“I’ve heard.” He finishes as he takes the first bite of his food.

The rest of the hour-long dinner was pretty boring, with Jiyoo and Jungkook mostly taking ahold of the conversation. Although, Jimin will admit that he couldn’t stop glancing back at the beautiful girl across from him.

And he won’t pretend that he didn’t notice her treating him the same.

He was charming and kind, as usual, but he remained on the quiet side of the conversation. Jimin knew that Jungkook could tell he wasn’t being quite as flirty as he usually is with setups like this, from the way that the younger kept trying to tie Jimin in the chit chat.

Jimin stays subtle for the rest of the date.

When the group says their goodbyes, his eyes linger on hers for longer than the rest.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/n.”

“Likewise.” She grins and Jimin feels his heart stop.

And then he leaves. Really, really fast.

That’s not good.

—

#Until I Met You #bts fanfiction #bts #park jimin #min yoongi #yoonmin #jeon jungkook #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfiction #jimin x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jimin #yoongi #jungkook #street fighter! jimin

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franklyshipping · 6 years

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Marvin The Mischievous ~ A Septic Ego Series ~ Part 9 ~ The Finale

Whew.....here it is....the bonus finale to what has been a wonderful series to brainstorm, plan, write, post, and receive feedback on. Thank you all so much for reading and I hope this series has been as fun for you as it has been for me. LET'S GO!

TAGGING: @marvin-lee-magician and @anti-switch-glitch

Marvin the Magnificent smiled to himself.....not an evil, malignant, mischievous smile, just a really damn happy one. It had been a few days since The Great Tickle Revenge of 2018 had occurred, and honestly Marvin had never felt better within himself. It was strange. Everyone seemed to be spending so much more time together, people weren't split into pairs of people they were comfy with....everyone was close with EVERYONE. It was so lovely. Even Anti and Shawn, the recluses, had found themselves feeling safe and at ease when in everybody's company, and it meant that everyone was just so much happier. Marvin played with his cape as he stared into the distance, thinking of all the newest happy family moments they'd shared, feeling profound....until he was interrupted. I wonder if you can guess the one person guaranteed to cause a cheeky ruckus in this household?

'Sup kitty cat, been lookin' for ya!'

Marvin shut his eyes and let out an audible groan, which resulted in a delighted giggle from Anti as he plopped on the couch next to the magician.

'Why, so you can gloat again about my magnificent downfall?'

Marvin mumbled as he opened his eyes and looked to Anti, who dramatically gasped in the most affronted manner that you ever did see. He slung an arm around Marvin's shoulders, making the magician squirm and growl as he reverted back to a state of smirkiness in his reply.

'I meeean, ya can't really chastise people who tease ya since ya brought it o-'

'Brought it on myself YES I know!'

Anti giggled and flicked Marvin's nose playfully, making Marvin twitch and glare.

'Exactly! So, I can tease ALL I want!'

Marvin rubbed his nose and shoved Anti off him. Obviously he wasn't at all angry or annoyed with him, it was just their way of interacting. Playful fighting, banter, annoying one another, creating feuds over the dumbest things just because it was so much fun for both of them. Everyone's friendship with another person is different to how that person's other friends may interact with them, like Marvin had banter with Anti, Jamie meanwhile was constantly molly-coddled and babied and teased by the glitch; since Anti dubbed him 'a fucking human marshmallow'. Anti was sneering at Marvin, amused by his embarrassed blush and child-like stance of bad posture and folded arms on the couch.

'....friggin crimeny asshole poo-glitch....'

Anti raised an eyebrow.....before bursting into wild, happy cackles, which only made Marvin blush more. It was rare to hear Anti's real laughter when it was unforced, and to be fair Marvin still thought it was lovely....but he was oh so salty at how it was at HIS expense. Through his laughter and manic grin, Anti leant towards him and taunted.

'Whahat wahas that Mr ''P-Please I Can't Take Much M-More!''?'

Marvin hid his face in his hands, letting out a huge whine of despair as Anti managed to reign himself back to giggles, though his eyes had been glistening and threatening tears of mirth. He just found all of this ceaselessly hilarious.

'SHUT UP! YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO HELP THEM, I NEVER GOT YOU!!'

Marvin exclaimed as Anti smirked, and it was true, Anti could see how it was true. But he remembered so distinctly when he and the rest of them had rescued Jackie....he'd wanted nothing more than to tease the magician, to watch him be tickled, to help make that happen. To be part of a scheme like that had just been too enticing to pass up.

'Oh but I wouldn't have missed it for the world, the chance to watch you squirm and shriek in ticklish madness was just so much fun! Yeah ya never got me, and ya never will, but any chance te see ya knocked down a few pegs is fuckin' awesome!'

Marvin's face was a burning crimson now, it never ceased to fluster him to see how enthusiastic people were when it came to tickling him. However....there was a little something that gave Marvin a lifeline from his embarrassment. Something Anti had said. Something that, in Marvin's mind, very much sounded like a smug challenge. Marvin started to smile; how bold Anti was to assume he was immune.

'Never.....is that right?'

Anti tensed....what was with this new tone? The man was instantly on guard as he watched Marvin's curled up form, hoping to anything and everything that he hadn't accidently given Marvin confidence. His hopes were no use though. Anti gulped when Marvin's face emerged, and the magician was grinning ear to ear. There was silence, stillness....then a pounce.

'NODON'TYOUDARE MARVIN YOU LITTLE SHIT!'

Anti tried to scramble off the couch, but Marvin was on top of him in an instant and reaching for his wrists with a maniacal grin. They were practically wresting, Marvin smirking and focused whilst Anti growled with threatening intent. Anti was cursing himself, goddammit WHY did he have to keep teasing? He COULDN'T let Marvin get away with this, but Marvin as we know....is a determined bugger.

'One way, or another....I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha!'

Anti's cheeks warmed up and he let a smile slip out at Marvin's tease, noticing how he used some lyrics of a song Anti liked. Hearing the words in this context caused the first waves of embarrassment to quiver in Anti's tummy, and spurred him to glare and snarl.

'I SWEAR I will tickle torture you for this! Stop while I'm giving you the chance!'

Marvin knew Anti wouldn't go down without a fight, it was so admirable. Even though the magician did feel a quiver of fear at the threat....the threat itself was proof that Marvin had the upper hand. Marvin knew Anti well enough to know that when he started making threats, that's when he was the most nervous. Marvin snatched Anti's wrists and shoved them under his knees to pin them, and cracked his knuckles in response to Anti's growl.

'Well maybe YOU should have taken a deep breath while I gave you the chance!'

Anti was struggling and tugging with all his might, but nothing stopped that mighty shriek leaving him when Marvin's claw-shaped hands dug into his vulnerable tummy. He was encased in mad cackles instantly.

'AAAHH! NAHAHA GEHET OHOHOFF MEHEHEEE!'

Marvin snickered as Anti writhed beneath him, the magician was always amused how Anti's reactions to tickling were THE most wild and sporadic out of everyone; not that it's surprising, given his wild character. As Marvin let his ''claws'' drag over Anti's stomach, and the thin t-shirt Anti wore offered no protection, he cooed teasingly.

'No can dooooo! Coochie coochie coooo!'

Anti's face lit up at the babyish teasing, and his arched his back whist wailing in ticklish agony; this was already evil and this was the first goddamn ticklish spot. Anti knew he was doomed.

'YOHOHOU BAHAHSTAHARD!! FAHAACK WHYTHEDAHAMNCLAWING?!'

Feeling Marvin's fingers just drag and scratch at the same time just made Anti flinch and quiver, it was quite the effective technique. Marvin kept it up as he crooned.

'Why it's my favourite tickly technique! After all, you're the one who called me a kitty cat! I'd have thought you'd be happy to feel my claws!'

Anti was shaking his head maniacally as the clawing reached his waist, making him buck and squeal as he babbled. He never knew something could tickle so much!

'NONONOHOHOHO IHIHAMNOTHAPPY NAHAHAT HAHAHAPPY!!'

Marvin pouted softly, but it was very exaggerated, as he removed his claws and put his fists on his hips.

'Awwww, well that won't do will it? I'll just have to try harder!'

Anti was making the most of his break, taking breath after breath as he tried to force his smile away, but for some reason his mouth just wasn't co-operating. He was grinning and shivering as he looked up at Marvin, still giggling from the atmosphere....almost like he WAS happy....ha! What a preposterous accusation, ahem moving on. Anti's voice had dimmed to a gentle, jittery form as he replied.

'N-Nohoho M-Maharvin, th-that w-wahas ahalready e-evil!'

Marvin cocked his head to the side as he giggled, eyes glinting.

'Oho Anti.....I think I need to help you redefine what TRUE evil is.'

Anti's blush was dark and prominent from embarrassment as he watched Marvin with eagle eyes, trying to anticipate something, anything. Marvin started lowering his head towards Anti's abdomen, making Anti squirm as his muscles tensed and twitched nervously. Then Anti shrieked. Marvin had definitely thrown build-ups out of the window today.

'NONONONO DOHOHON'T DOHOHO THAHAHAHAT!!'

Marvin giggled once more as he swiped his tongue back and forth along Anti's waistline, knowing how much this technique in this place drove him absolutely crazy. As he tormented Anti's soft, delicate skin, he growled playfully like a feasting beast.

'Mmmm, I never knew glitches could taste so good....'

Dammit dammit dammit, the animal trope AS WELL AS the lickling? Anti was in hell. Anti whimpered through his high pitched laughter as he squeezed his eyes shut to try and block out the wet, warm, tickly sensation; but if anything, it only became more amplified. It was like he was being sloppily painted, but the paint was warm and the brush was slick and immeasurably soft. Anti cried out.

'P-PLEHEHEASE YOHOU KNOHOW IHI CAN'T STAHAHAND THIHIHIS!!'

Anti squealed when Marvin wiggled the tip of his tongue over the skin playfully, then gazed at him amusedly as he purred.

'But you don't have to stand it, you're lying down!'

Anti let out a groan of despair at the pun, to think he thought things couldn't have gotten worse. Now Marvin had brought his detrimentally terrible humour into play. Marvin snickered at his own joke as he flicked his tongue under Anti's navel, making him squeal and buck adorably.

'YOHOHOU FUHUCKER!! YOHOHOU'LL REHEGREHET THIHIHIS!'

Marvin sighed.....more threats. Will he ever learn. He stopped and crawled on top of Anti, making the glitch gasp as Marvin glared at him; it was partly terrifying in all honesty. The magician looked fierce and fiery as he snarled down at Anti.

'And I'll make sure YOU regret it if you keep up those threats. I can make you submit to me.'

Anti's heart was pounding.....oh why oh why had he let his brain convince him that being cheeky to Marvin was a good idea? Anti KNEW how ruthless he could be. He KNEW that he wasn't to be underestimated or belittled. And yet, his subconscious convinced him to goad the magician anyway....and it was his subconscious that controlled his stammers now.

'I-I'll....s-still g-get you! Y-You can't TRULY defeat me!'

Except, this just proved that Marvin already HAD defeated him. Marvin smirked, now all he had to do was make Anti admit that he'd been bested.

'Still got that defiance....heh, I shouldn't really be surprised. If anything....this is just going to be so much more fun.'

Anti quivered as his gaze flicked over Marvin's excited expression, and he was already smiling as Marvin leant down and nestled his face into the crook of his neck. Anti was so tense. His mind was bubbling with questions. What was he going to do? Anti tried to stay quiet as he felt Marvin's warm breath move over his neck....dammit the suspense was actually killing him. This was, of course, something that Marvin was dragging out on purpose. The magician purred.

'Gotcha.'

Anti gasped and squeaked. No, he did not fall into hysteria, he simply was overcome by a stream of squeaky giggles as Marvin's sharp teeth started nipping and nibbling at his very sensitive, pale skin.

'F-Fuhuhuck.....M-Maharvihin......y-yohohou cahan't....'

Marvin snickered, which sent more chills through Anti's system, whilst dragging his teeth over his victim's vulnerable skin; he'd still managed to keep Anti's arms trapped beneath his legs too, he was pretty good at this tickle torture malarkey.

'But I already am....you might as well admit it Anti. You've lost.'

Anti flushed, filled with embarrassment since he knew deep down it was true, but before he could respond.....Marvin's fingertips came into play.

'AH! Th-thahat's n-nahat f-f-fahahair! P-Plehehease!'

Marvin's fingertips had joined the party and were drawing little shapes all over Anti's bared, sensitive sides; galaxies and nebulas and patterns and shapes, all of them sending jolts through Anti's nerves....making him crumble more and more every second. Marvin whispered in a wispy voice, that almost sounded tickly all by itself.

'Come now Anti, you know what I want to hear. It's just....a little confession.'

Anti weakly shook his head, even though he barely had an ounce of willpower left he was scrunching up his face as a way to distract himself from the evil feelings.

'I-Ihihi cahahan't Ihi c-cahahan't!'

Marvin was just....so happy. Hearing Anti become undone was sublime. To think earlier he was his vibrant bratty self was almost unbelievable, but it just goes to show how being ticklish can reveal every hidden part of you. In this instance, Anti's prickly exterior was a shield for his meek interior; he was a soft little turtle on the inside basically. Marvin was gonna tease that little turtle to death.

'Sure you can....otherwise, heh well, I don't have anything to do today, and this is quite a comfy position....'

Anti gulped as he squirmed and whined, but any energy for potential escape had long been used up, he was hardly even glitching too. His body was only exhibiting the odd crackle and shift by a millimetre, but other than that, Anti was just completely vulnerable. And he knew it.

'Y-Yohohou h-hahave toho h-have mehehercy ohon me!'

Marvin giggled softly, finding a soft spot behind Anti's ear that he latched onto with his teeth, all the while his blunt nails relentlessly teased the dips of his poor sides. He only had to utter two words....two words that made Anti realise, he'd honestly lost.

'Do I?'

It went on....Anti didn't know how long. Time didn't exist it seemed. It was just tickling, tracing, nibbling, tracing, nibbling, tracing, nibbling. Anti's eyes were watering just from his high-pitched giggle fits as he tried and tried to endure. However, with every passing moment, he just seemed to get more and more ticklish, and Marvin wasn't even using magic. It was just plain old tickling. Tickling, just in itself, is torture....classic tickling with deft fingertips....can never go wrong. Marvin was about to find this out, to his utter glee.

'OKAY! Y-Yohohou w-wihin yohou d-d-defeheated mehe pleasehavemehercypleasepleaseplease!'

Anti babbled, he honestly couldn't have handled any more, it was like he was being hypnotised via touch. His breathing was raspy and erratic, his gaze was glazed and focused on the ceiling, and his body was caught in a haze of jolts and shivers....but now....a calm had been reached. Anti sighed in relief when Marvin's fingers retracted and his arms were released from under his legs; Anti bent his arms, he'd almost forgotten he had these two limbs. As Anti regained his senses though....he realised that Marvin hadn't gotten off him. Oh no. Quite the opposite. The magician was cuddling him, and smiling at him.

'I win.'

Anti pursed his lips when Marvin giggled, snuggling into him....like a goddamn cat. Fuckin' affectionate piece of cute. Anti begrudgingly hugged him back, giving his back a little pack as he mumbled embarrassedly.

'Yeah...ya did.....'

He paused, which made Marvin look at him again curiously. What he said next though, meant Marvin was the one blushing.

'I'm proud of ya.'

Marvin couldn't stop smiling, and Anti felt a wave of satisfaction....even after all that, he'd gained an inch of the upper hand. He chuckled, then playfully shoved Marvin off him onto the carpet so his could stand up and brush down his clothes.

'HEY!'

Anti snickered as he looked down at Marvin, who was playfully glaring. However he soon grinned when Anti gave him a hand up, rolling his eyes. Marvin smiled as he watched Anti start to saunter from the room....oh if only he'd since the glitch's smirk as he spoke offhandedly.

'Ugh I was not prepped for sappiness today, to think i only came here to tell ya Jackie wants to go on a date with ya...'

Marvin's eyes bugged out of his sockets, whilst Anti cackled to himself. Marvin blushed, frozen in place. Jackie. Cute Superhero. Date. With him. Actual Jackie....smirky teasy pretty kind selfless Jackie-WHAT?!

'WHAT WAIT ANTI COME BACK?!'

Anti merely kept on sauntering, hands in his pockets and head held high as Marvin's flustered, jittery voice followed him. Ah, the sounds of someone yelling Anti's name in frustration or in vain...things were definitely back to normal.

DOOONNNEEE!!! Wow I can't believe it's done....genuinely though I'd love to know what you guys though of this finale AND the whole series! LUV YOUS XXX

67 notes · View notes

p-redux · 6 years

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I Thought We Were Done, But I Guess Not...More Draaaamaaa Coming Right Up! I Know It’s Long But There Will Be TEA SPILLED. :-) Hope you read it all the way to the end...

Below is how ContemplatingOutlander responded to my post pointing out that the reason the MAJORITY of NST have her blocked is HER treatment of them, and my suggestion that she take some time for self-reflection.

Let me offer some more TRUTHS and some clarification that should have been done a long time ago. Here we go...

CO, a wise person knows that there are 3 sides to every story: hers, his, or in this case, hers again and the truth. So, whatever my “former friends and acquaintances” have told you is one sided and only from their perspective. Obvi. I would like to clarify some things I have kept my mouth shut about for far too long. Here they are...

You don’t have the complete picture, CO. But that’s what happens when you only listen to people who have a vendetta--their hate clouds their judgment and ability to be completely honest. I am not on my “4th or 5th inner circle.” I still have my ORIGINAL Twitter DM chat inner circle I have had for 3 years, it’s just missing a few backstabbing members, with whom I parted ways going on 2 years now. And that’s who you have talked to, not the people who have had my back this whole time. If the “former friends and acquaintances” you talked to were right about me, and I was this horrible and deceitful person, there would be NO ONE left in my inner circle, YET they are still with me all these years later. And as a result of their continued loyalty and real friendship over the last 3 years, I have recently shared things with them that I have not shared with anyone. They know my real name, and they know the identity of my original industry source, among other things. No one else does.

You know who’s not in the group anymore? Someone with whom, at the other members’ pleading, I had to have regular “talks” in DMs because the group members were so tired of her controlling manner in chat (no surprise that she’s one of your favorite people from that group...birds of a feather, I guess). Someone whose stressful job and tough situation with her son started to affect her thinking and made her very paranoid. Despite me showing her concrete proof that negated who she thought I was in real life, she didn’t believe me. Someone whose physical health problems caused her to have mental health problems and become very angry and lash out at me. Someone who was the source for the private Tony pics at the Outlander premiere in April 2015 and whose identity I have continued to keep private, even to my own detriment, yet she has had no problems betraying me. (note: this person is not my Tony family source. That’s someone else). Two individuals who run a well known and popular Outlander fan Twitter account whose identity I have also kept private because they don’t want the fandom to know that they run the account, and that they were in my inner circle. Someone who said she was married and rich and turned out to be totally lying, yet she had no problem badmouthing me behind my back, accusing me of lying about MY identity. And various other women, who although they were allowed to be completely Anonymous in the group (their Twitter names were Anon and in group they did not divulge personal info about themselves) yet somehow I was chastised by group members for not sharing my real identity. In addition, for a short period, I stupidly let into group a former shipper who I KNEW was playing both sides. But I guess the info she could divulge about her ex shipper friends was just too juicy to pass up, so she joined for a bit. And, as I knew would happen, ended up being a huge back stabber, but that was not a surprise. I knew better.

CO, THOSE are the assorted “former friends and acquaintances” who have talked to YOU, to Extreme Shippers, etc about me. Ya think they might be a wee biased and unreliable in retelling their version of the truth? Um, yeah. But despite me KNOWING that some of them have talked shit about me to YOU, to Extreme Shippers, to anyone who would listen and REVEALED some things we all swore we would take to the grave, I “big, bad Purv” have NOT betrayed THEIR confidence. What I’ve written above is the most I have ever shared. And I do feel badly, and somewhat cringe that I’m doing it, even though I’m not revealing anyone’s name, or any identifying details, but this is how far I’m being pushed. CO you have NO idea what you are stepping into. The amount of secrets I have kept private is staggering. Is that something that a the terrible person I’m portrayed to be would do? NO. A terrible person, the minute her ex friends started spilling tea, would have spilled right back, and blasted all their private info too. BUT I didn’t do that. Because I’m not a terrible person. Do you know how much easier my life would have been if I had told everyone who my Tony pic source was and posted all those pics publicly? But I didn’t. Despite being stabbed in the back by my former friends. Do you know how many secrets I could have shared that would have cleared my name in certain situations, and prevented some of the attacks on me? A LOT. But I didn’t, because doing so would have entailed betraying people’s trust and despite all my faults, I wasn’t willing to do that.

So, CO, when you make veiled threats insinuating that my “former friends and acquaintances” “didn’t appreciate being played” and therefore they may continue to betray me, what you don’t realize is THEY PLAYED ME. And they PLAYED YOU. They didn’t tell you the WHOLE TRUTH. They KNOW that even though they are privy to many of my secrets, I ALSO HOLD ALL OF THEIR SECRETS--secrets they didn’t tell you. Once we parted ways I assumed we would be at a detente. If they tried to take me down, they knew they would come with me. I underestimated how dangerously they liked to live, or how emotionally unstable some of them turned out to be. And so they continued to betray me and I SAID NOTHING. But if you or anyone else continues to push me, that will change. Enough is enough. All their secrets and their names I have kept under lock and key, THAT’S my insurance policy, should they, or YOU choose to take this further.

The same goes for Extreme Shippers who also talked to my “former friends and acquaintances,” and like to talk shit about me. It was always understood that there is also a detente there, since ES know that everyone knows most, if not all, their REAL IDENTITIES. The only ES who is Anon is Jess. Any Extreme Shippers dox me, find me, find out my real identity, and try to mess with my RL and all I gotta do is go down the list of NON-ANON ES: Lauren, Julia, Kim, Nipuna, Sherri, Leslie, Deirdre, Trish, Erin, Angie, Stephanie, Marcy, Suzanne, Lynn, Jo, among MANY others. I’m sure fellow ES wouldn’t want to be the catalyst for that. So THAT’S my insurance policy on that side. As for Puffy, I hear she’s still at it with her “investigation” of me and fleecing her minions of their hard earned money, I stopped looking a long time ago. She can keep going, but I hope she knows the minute she finds my real identity and messes with my RL, her bestie, co-owner of her blog, and partner in crime, Amanda E.S.H will be getting a knock on her door from the authorities. THAT’S my insurance policy on that side.

For now you’ve been splashing around in the kiddie pool, CO, you want to get in the deep end with the big girls? Be prepared to SWIM. Again, I suggest you STAND DOWN, Doc. You blog on your blog and leave me alone, and I will blog on my blog and leave you alone. Like a fellow NST said, “no one is drowning kittens here.” Fandom isn’t supposed to be so serious, this is supposed to be FUN. I’ve been playing nice, and I will continue to do so. I am nice, to people who are nice to me. But do not mistake my continued silence all these years for weakness, you push me too far and the bitch I’ve been made out to be, aka “Big bad Purv” WILL come out. Mark me.

PS: Yes, I have people here on Tumblr who I talk to in DM regularly and consider my friends and inner circle here. That group is separate from my original Twitter DM chat, who I still maintain. None of the people in the Twitter group chat overlap with the people in Tumblr DMs. Two totally separate groups. And I appreciate all of you so much. :-*

We done now? *cracks neck, shakes it off* Okay drama session is over, can we go back to some actual fun now? JFC.

#co #contemplatingoutlander #extremeshippers #drama #teaspilled

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lovemesomesurveys · 6 years

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What was the last song to bring out strong emotions in you? I don’t know.

What’s something you’re currently looking for in this life? I just want to be in a better place health wise, physically and mentally.

Metaphorically speaking, what was the last thing to crush you? Finding out I’m going to have to have surgery.

Do clingy people bother you? I don’t like too much clinginess. Although, I can be kind of clingy myself. I don’t let it show when it comes to like a guy, but I am clingy with my mom.

Is there anyone that you’re currently trying to get over? No.

When was the last time you just felt numb all over? I haven’t physically felt that way. Have you ever thrown up on a dentist? No. What is something that you wish you were better at? Life, ya know?

Have you ever met anyone in person after meeting them online? No. You are about to die; what do you do with your worldly possessions? Give them to my family.

Is it really better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all? I believe so. Have you ever (accidentally) given someone really bad advice? Possibly.

Are you going to have a New Year’s Resolution? If so, what? No, I stopped doing that years ago.

When a lot of things go wrong at once, how do you react? I don’t handle it well. I just kind of shut down.

Do you consider yourself sensitive to others’ feelings? Yes. Are you a saver or a spender when it comes to money? A bit of both, but I have been getting a little bit carried away lately with the online shopping. Do you think change is good, or detrimental? I mean, it depends. Have you ever yelled at a telemarketer? No.

Have you ever performed on a stage? Yes, when I was in choir and band in elementary school and then when I took piano my senior year in high school our final was a recital so we performed in front of people. Suuuuper nerve wracking.

If you were going to a costume party tonight, what would you be? Hmm. I don’t know. Something simple.

If you could, where would you max out a credit card? I wouldn’t do it at one place. Actually, if I could I’d do it to travel.

Are you independent? Yes, but I’m more dependent these days with everything going on.

What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Coffee is always what I drink first thing.

If you could spend a summer anywhere in the would, where’d you go? I’d like to visit various places in Europe. Who’s someone that you consider to be absolutely brilliant? There’s a lot of people. What’s your curfew, if you have one? I’m 29 years old. But when I was younger my parents never had to set one because I didn’t do anything, ha.

Are most of the friends in your life old or new friends? Sigh. Do you hang up your jeans or fold them? I put them in my dresser.

Do you enjoy buying things for yourself or for others more? I enjoy both, but I love buying gifts for people. At what point were your parents most disappointed in you? I feel like a major disappointment now. They have never said so and they never would, but it’s just how I feel about myself.

Have you ever had to go to a therapist? I need to. I’ve had the referral for awhile, I just haven’t called to make the appointment. :/ Have you ever ridden in a taxi? Yeah.

Do you ever wear mis-matched socks? No.

Does your family have a close relationship? I have a huge family on my mom’s side so it’s hard to see everyone and some we’re not as close with, not because of anything bad like there’s no beef or anything, we just don’t see each other. We were close to a couple of my aunts and a few of my cousins, but we don’t see each other often anymore. People get busy with their own lives and time passes so quickly and before you know it you realize you haven’t seen each other in months. I haven’t seen some of my cousins since last year. It’s just crazy because growing up we were super close and saw each other all the time. As everyone gets older that’s how it seems to go. I also have been going through a lot and just have been distant from everyone these past couple years, including family. :/ And as for my dad’s side, his family is really small but we still don’t see them a lot and we aren’t as close. We have a good relationship and it��s nice when we do see each other, but it’s just not very often. What’s sad is that apart from my paternal grandparents and one of my uncles, we all live in the same city, or within 45 minutes of each other.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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psychedelictrashpanda · 3 years

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It’s been awhile, weird old blog with unspecified direction. How about more of me me me?

I finally did DMT again, and WOW. It’s been at least a full decade since the last time. I still didn’t quite “break through” enough to “meet the entities” again but mein GOTT was it healing. Speaking of God, we’ll get to that soon... But before smoking the dimitri, I was beginning to sustain a mania in slow motion with dissociatives again. Not to any extreme like I did with PCP long ago (btw, glancing at my Eyehategod poster, I realize that horror/metal fest when I was blasted on PCP the entire time was all the way back in 2013! It seems to much more recent, but the way these drugs interact with memory is very peculiar. or maybe it was the traumatizing effect of it and other things at the time that makes me block out and thus distort the time signature of the memory... I digress). And I don’t have the destructive tendencies I did in the past anyway, so I’ve never been apt to push it as far as I was when I was shooting up 3-meo-pcp and blacking out for days at a time. I mean, I did push it I suppose. For the main George Floyd protests I was loading up on a combination of things. Can’t even remember if that was my sober window between methadone detox and the suboxone I’m on now. But, I was combining bits of weird PCP offshoots with opiate offshoots (4-map iirc) and/or kratom with maybe a drop of benzo... straddling the line between going overboard and a “party dose” for lack of a better descriptor; between recreation and desperation. In retrospect, I was summoning the courage to act like my old self used to in these sorts of situations. That is, giving it my all, being novel about it, idk, summoning the spirit of Dr Gonzo I suppose (who, after reading his two books, was more slimey of a jerk than he’s presented in Hunter’s stories. well, I need to finish the Cockroach People book, he started getting into his attraction to underage girls as a young 20-something man himself and ugh, gross). My true wild & adventurous spirit has been hampered, weighed down with anxiety and depression and all manner of undiagnosed mental illness. Who knows if it’s more the drugs or the environmental factors that trigger drug use, but the spirit is tortured like Griffith in the torture dungeon, the heart is wrapped in a black grime guarded by the Beast of Darkness, the will is subordinated to authoritarian capitalist hegemony...

Where was I? Oh so I started suboxone for the second time in my life innnn... February I want to say. Last time I did it I was able to detox myself simply buying subs off the street, but I did it too quick. That’s been one problem, every time I detox rapidly it’s too harsh a push back into reality and I succumb to relapse less then a year into sobriety. The reason reality is harsh is the same reason my stance on anti depressants has been further cemented. I’ve articulated it better lately... Basically I believe it’s a weird solution to depression to force your chemical makeup into the right position to function properly in the same environment that caused it in the first place. “It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” One of my conversations with a young college friend really illuminated why many don’t even consider this position. She was insistent there’s no cause of depression, you’re just born with a fucked up mind. Now sure, hereditary disposition is a thing, as a drug addicted child of an addict I should know. But for example she pointed to another friend with hard depression and was like “his life seems fine what explanation could there be?” But I put forth maybe his childhood of having to closet his homosexuality in a hard conservative family that had the possibility of disowning him if they knew about it contributed to that “natural chemical imbalance,” as it’s implied. YES, some people NEED it. But for the most part, it really seems to me to be what I’m gonna call the thyroid phenomenon. That is to say, a medical explanation for a small fraction of severely affected patients is used as a broad brush by the public to diagnose themselves. Forewarning: I am not fat shaming here, forgive the example. Dietary practices are a personal thing so my feelings are stronger as well. Anyway, it seems to me as soon as this thyroid malfunction became a hard biological explanation for obesity beyond the psychological, suddenly everyone was a candidate. It’s fine to think “maybe I have it” but when a growing and significant portion of the obese crowd started screaming they all had thyroid problems and can’t help themselves, when a teensy percentage actually do... well it sort of touches on the “addiction as a disease” narrative that’s never sat well with me. Addicts use the disease reasoning to skirt personal responsibility. I'm not denying it is a disease, but I believe calling it as such in the public discourse isn’t terribly constructive. (Okay, you’re seeing an opinion change in real time here... I changed my mind.) I was vehemently against the narrative, but I need to readjust to simply make people WARY of the narrative. As an addict, I could easily see myself using the excuse of it being a disease as a fatalist function; that is to say giving in, relinquishing personal control over my fate. Hereditary disposition, Rat Park, addiction as a disease... there’s also a severe lack of control it all conjures. Paradoxically, drugs can used to meticulously control your state of mind. I can’t control my desire to control myself?

God where was I going with this... Oh! God! May as well mention I’ve been warming up more and more to the spirit of monotheism beyond it’s structural and institutional dimensions. I could get deep into my recent past of not believing in the idea of a spirit, soul, etc. How the pendulum of my ideology swings between cold rationalism and loose spirituality, especially as I go through phases of rebellion against perceived oppressors. Growing up in a red state with a lot of Christian ideals, society around me was always telling me everything I seemed to like was the work of Satan. Naturally, I started reading into Satanism. I never self identified with occult-esque belief structures, except maybe chaos magick because it’s whole idea is to merge whatever practices work into something of your own, but I did staunchly identify as anti christian. Not a hard thing to do when you’re already a metal head, which definitely fueled the trajectory. Not to mention metal helped goad me into DXM use (thanks Velvet Cacoon ya bunch of goons), the first real psychedelic journeys I had. Because I never gave real consideration to myself having depression, I moulded my personal ideology around the symptoms it causes. Which is why for awhile after coming to terms with depression as a problem I probably have, I was only able to identify it in retrospect. I never felt it in real time because it was so old-coat to me, I adapted to it like an addict adapts to their drug of choice and ti becomes their world. So I would decide to skip social events, let my room get messy, watch only old comfort shows, etc... but only AFTER emerging from that state was I able to immediately look back and think “wait... I was doing all those things because I was depressed.” In the moment, it’s rationalized as “I don’t want to see these people for these reasons” or “I want to watch spongebob because it’s fun and an old favorite.” Rationalization, the concept of the west, serves as a detriment to the individual in a number of manners. This is one. I was a MASTER at rationalizing away my drug use. Statistically, more people die from this this and that, why be worried that I’m on this drug instead? Statistics quelled the perceived danger. It was also a formative tool in my skills of justification. I always felt I had to justify every action I took, but that’s getting back into family matters...

But why not bring that up? it’s a sore spot. I feel like the tables have flipped from my dad always saying “you all just think I’m an asshole!” to me thinking I’m the asshole. It’s too much to get into but I’ll touch on a couple important things... I’ve learned a major source of my anxiety is not being able to draw the boundaries between business and family and myself, because they’re not properly defined. When I’m told by my bossfather after explaining the distress I feel simply thinking about the family company, and he goes typically all-or-nothing when I touch on crucial issue and says “if you want out just tell me you want out”, I can’t separate between whether he’s saying it as a father or as a boss in the moment. He would say, “of course I just mean the company”, but where does company end and family begin? It’s also an intense pressure, maybe shame, simply typing this and thinking in the back of my head about someone who might read and think “what a spoiled brat, has a family company and blah blah.” But who put all that in my head? He says he’s changed from the days of putting immense pressure on me with the sort of sentiments that cause that shit in my head like always telling me how great I have it and all the opportunities, shit, I’m feeling it right now, the frustration and I can’t even identify these emotions. At least I am aware of them, that’s a huge milestone for me. But the only thing that’s changed is he sees me as a the broken mother fucker I am and treats me as such. Sometimes it’s nice, and sincere sympathy, other times his frustration with having to check his language all the time is palpable so it does no good to do so. The immense pressure, the intense urgency, the confusing complexity, all those market pressures haven’t changed. This is evident when we were driving somewhere and I suggested not worrying about the fastest route on the map because one minute isn’t a big deal and he insisted that one minute IS a big deal. Sweating one fucking minute indicates a mountain of reputational pressure. In a way, that one minute is putting business ahead of family, but I feel harsh saying it because as he’s pounded into my head the business is what allows the family to survive. Not to mention why put the crack head of the family above that one minute (not literal crack, but it was obvious as soon as he saw I was “fucking around” on ketamine he decided to not take me as seriously) Still, I’ve made my decision that survival reasoning is fucking bullshit already. He’s the one that wants a mansion and wants enough mailbox money for us not to have to worry ever again, so he’s the one deliberately creating the pressure. Maybe he hasn’t considered how hardened he’s become to those feelings after a lifetime in the street and in prison. I really feel for mom. She’s okay now, but her spirit... It’s part of the reason I can’t relax myself at home. He has always painted her as dead weight in the past, never getting a job, sitting watching TV, but he’s unable to connect the dots psychologically because we’re all layman that part of the reason she’s like that is because her actions have been demonized already so who the fuck she got to prove herself to? Same reason I fell into relapse sometimes. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t sort of deal. The damned if I don’t being the reputation of yourself you have to live with after getting sober. He says “don’t worry about it” but I couldn’t accept that because the reason he doesn’t trust me (never mind respect, that’s even further away) is informed by my past. I can’t complain that he never allowed me to contribute to a crucial decision like choosing the building for the dispensary, talking about whether we want a certain investor or not, etc, is because that’s not something to entrust to a druggie. I’ve always felt he let me play make-believe CEO and gave me an allowance for it, while telling me otherwise. He’d say “this is all for you” but he’s making the decisions that truly move mountains and then putting it on us. Which is why I have a hard time saying “I want out”, he can be a baby about things just as much as I am, and I fear he’d let his entrepreneurial drive be affected by my departure. Sigh, this is already getting to be a headache to think about... He’s tired. I’m tired.

There was also something I wanted to say regarding the role social constructs play in all this, but it’s getting long enough already. Suffice to say I’ve been getting into psychoanalysis lately and it’s scratching the right itch for knowledge and wisdom. I can see why Zizek is enamored with Lacan, and why it’s so important to mix it with Marxism. And not to toot my own horn, but what the hell... There are a lot of lofty ideas I’ve been coming across that are already parallel to ideas I’ve developed through my own life experience, and it makes me think I’m meant for this sort of stuff. If I’m lucky in my pursuits (not to put too much weight on the luck aspect), I’ll be a journalist of some sort. Articles, video essays, whatever. Need to rein in my indecisiveness and dispel FOMO tho.

Back to DMT. But not really. Earlier in the summer I got some straight Ketamine and it was also immensely healing. But it has a great abuse potential, especially for me, so it’s harder to “hang up the phone” after I get the message as TmK would say. It made me feel again, and start to understand what love is. Partly because it conjured all these lost feels I had for Kat. She’s great people though, I think I’d just stress her out too much. Idk. Whatever. My love life is a total mess. Anyway after I ran out I wanted more of course and stumbled on some DCK, a somewhat rare ketamine offshoot. Coupled with my increasing propensity to trip acid more than once a week, they started building on each other. I was happier and happier at home, but at work/fam was getting more and more distressed about my place in that whole show. In his show. Simply thinking about the company, especially after having read that article about procrastination and how much it resonated with me, caused me unnecessary levels of distress. Normally as quickly as I can feel that, my mind will tuck it away and bottle it up somewhere so I can go about my day. The problem with drugs is they cause you to act instead. So he was doing the usual “it’s so easy! you’ll have it made!” and I interrupted with this torrent of shit I’ve been holding back forever, and he would not yield on his “you didn’t let me finish...” Incidentally, has he really never picked up on every time I interrupt I already know what he’s talking about? I said as much, something like “it’s not the labor” and he keeps saying “no you’re not listening” as though a frivolous detail changed the main thrust of the fact he’s always trying to make it easier for me. I wish he could simply let me go off and have the strength to take it a little less seriously, but considering how often I take things personally I shouldn’t be surprised he does to. On top of this, his brother/my uncle was in the hospital for some serious shit. But another reason I picked this time is because I only feel safe even confronting him when non-involved parties are around. He doesn’t care that I don’t feel safe confronting him though, he says “don’t worry about me” so maybe I shouldn’t. I feel like such an asshole about it, but that feeling is conjured by the ideological structure he helped to create. Where does my shame end with him being the causation and start with my personal ideology? How much can a person create their own ideology, truly? It’s about as small a window as free will, I imagine.

SO after feeling awful for going off after having all this stuff build up in my mind, I felt awful and went home to drug up some more. Again, not recklessly to the extent I used to be. But I did a fat line of DCK while on a couple hits of LSD and a smidgen of Zolpidem (a wholly underrated substance). Everything was getting to me all at once. A perfect storm of my problems. All the while another doubt caused by ideology from without (society and family both) was making me think it’s all the drugs. But the developments I’ve made are huge strides, I’ve matured so much from it all. And I realized every time I do this, those developments are wiped clean because the validity of them is rendered null due to both the general social stigma of drugs and my history with them. And maybe that’s a major trigger fo rmy relapse in the past. I’m not suppose to be on drugs, but I dabble, have incredible experiences and make strides of maturity, but because it’s drugs the exact opposite effect is percieved from the outside; the experiences are simple chemical euphoria, the strides of maturity are false delusions. It triggers a sharp roll back down hill. I wish someone respected me for who I am, I feel so alone sometimes.

Drugs as an umbrella term, drugs as a vice for the worst dregs of society. There are so many problems in our world regarding drugs. I could write a book. But how much I’ve written here touches on another pressure I feel. IS it simply him again? When he asks “you’re gonna be gone in a few days right?” is that what’s making me feel like this is a waste of time? I’ve got to get out of here. It’s so hard though. I simply have to be strong. The strength is in me to take the massive cut to pay and benefits when I move. Maybe I’ll get a portion of my strugglers card back and shit heads like Blasey Shomas can’t simply say “why don’t you take care of yourself instead of daddy taking are of you?” anymore. Part of me wants to say he says that because he’s driven by his own emotions and not smart enough to directly debate my claims, his insults should hold no weight. Another part of me is truly trying to be... I don’t know a proper term for it without sounding egotistical, but “enlightened”? This is why monotheism is sounding more interesting to me. Jesus’ position about those dregs of society. I’ve always tried to be a trusting person, understanding of people’s struggles, the ideologies they function under that make them lash out or otherwise act the way they do, etc. I even changed my wording there from “I’ve always been” to “I’ve always tried to be.” Not so much for my usual reasons of dodging a committing claim (which I’m working on -- instead of “I think ___” just say what I believe to give the claim more sense of authority so as to be taken more seriously), but trying to be more humble. And not to think lowly and use myself as a punching bag like I used to... ugh, whatever. This post is messy enough.

So that night after having done DCK every day for a couple weeks and tripping every other night on acid, I was at my wits end on what to do, where to go next, everything. The outside world is crumbling, the inside world is lost. I finally whipped out that DMT I’ve had for a long while, something inside told me it was time. Oh duh it was the wits end part, I had no other chemical recourse. I sat in my bed with a foil sculpture loosely resembling a pipe, repeated to myself “it’s okay, just let it happen to you, it will be okay.” A part of me even had a small fear based on those rare reports of those interdimensional beings mentally raping some people, but I don’t know what to make of those experiences, seem like flukes. I took my three deep hits and set the pipe aside as soon as the rusb began and laid back. It wasn’t enough to break through, so I need to get a proper pipe, but it was enough for a “being” (which I am convinced is a part of your mind, not from another dimension or otherwise external source) to appear before me. At least I think. Whatever it was slowly came closer, reassuring me that I’d be okay. The most profound part was an overwhelming sense of all these puzzle pieces suddenly falling perfectly into place where they should be. As though the answers to all my struggles obvious and within me the whole time. For example as soon as I came back I adjusted my posture, as that’s something that I’ve been wanting to work on, and because I was reminded of that just now I adjusted my posture in my seat while writing this. I felt an overwhelming sense of forgiveness toward myself, I think. Amazingly, the inebriation I felt before the trip was largely dissolved, as though the stuff I was on somehow all lost it’s potency. The distresses melted away. At least, the power behind them was nulled. I’m still facing the same problems, but there’s a zen(?) quality to my thinking when they come up in my mind. No longer will a pin drop trigger everything I’m feeling all at once. When I came-to completely, I started BAWLING. In being overwhelmingly consoled by the trip, I became inconsolable. Tears of joy. Tears of healing. And that was the main takeaway. The loudest words of the experience were “Now the healing can truly begin.” At the same time, now the real work also begins.

Balance is key

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taakofromtaz · 6 years

Note

For the prompts: "Its just a cut, really." Ango angst?

oooo this was Very Good,

team building exercise

words: 1607

under a read more bc it got Really Long,

[writing tag] | [fic index] | [prompt list] | [please consider donating!]

It’s not often that Angus gets invited on a mission with theReclaimers. In fact, Angus can count on a single hand the amount of missionshe’s been asked to physically go on while employed at the Bureau and the numberis both a blessing and a point of utter frustration. He’s been working on hisown for years now and this is the longest stretch of time he’s ever gonewithout some kind of action since he was given his first job. He can handleworking on his own so, whether Madame Director meant to or not, Angus feelslike he’s not being trusted to handle himself on the field.

It is painfullyobvious just how detrimental the unintended downtime has been for him themoment the four of them end up in a confrontation with a band of mercenaries.

Angus tries tostay out of the fighting, really, he does. He sort of knows the way these threefight, having seen them on the train, so he falls back a few steps with Taako,keeping Magnus and Merle between them and the obvious threat.

Magnus rushes in waving Railsplitter with one hand and hisshield with the other, Merle reads a passage from his bible in an effort to setup his Guardian of Faith, and Taako targets the weakest link to hit with awell-aimed Magic Missile.

Angus, meanwhile, is making a concentrated effort to bothfind a safe place to hide and formulate a plan of attack. Unfortunately, hefailed to take the number of mercenaries when they first ran into them and theamount that the Reclaimers are fighting now.

The numbers don’t line up.

Before he can call out a warning, large hands grab him frombehind, one around his waist and another covering his mouth. Angus screamsanyway, the sound muffled, until his snatcher—A rouge, obviously, Angus deduces—steps on his foot with a hissed, “Quiet,brat.”

Taako’s ears twitch and swivel and half a second later,Angus and the guy are pinned under Taako’s sharp stare. “Hey!” the elf shouts,twisting to face them. “Hands off the boy, dickweed!”

Magnus looks up from where he’s just downed one of the mercs.“Angus!” He kicks his opponent to the side and adjusts his stance, looking likehe’s contemplating the best way to rush in. Merle glances at them as hefinishes his spell. His guardian easily finishes off the mercs the three hadbeen fighting and dissipates, leaving just the guy holding Angus up like ashield.

The rogue moves his hand away from Angus’s face to pull aknife out and lay it against the boy’s throat. He hides himself somewhat behindthe boy and says, “Give me your shit or I kill the kid.” He shoves the knifejust close enough to draw a bead of blood from Angus. It surprises him that acut that small stings so much.

Taako shifts his weight and Angus can see him visiblyfighting himself from saying something sarcastic. Angus is impressed at the self-control.Taako tightens his grip on the Umbra Staff and jams the tip into the ground. BehindTaako, Magnus shoulders his shield and moves into a two-handed stance and looksbetween Taako and Angus, twisting his hands around the handle of Railsplitter.

“Easy, now, fella. Let’s not get carried away,” Merle says, holdinghis hands up, his bible closed and held in one hand while the other remainsflat and open.

The rogue jerks himself and Angus backwards. “One more step,old man, and the only thing that’s gonna get carried away is this kid’s corpse.”

“Oh, fuck this,” Taako says, and before anyone can comment,he lifts a hand, mutters a word in Elvish, snaps his fingers, and disappears.

Angus immediately recognizes the spell as Blink but therogue obviously doesn’t, and jerks away from where Taako used to be, draggingthe knife with him. Angus feels another sharp sting but thinks nothing of it asTaako reappears behind them and blasts the rogue with a wordless Fireball. Therouge screams and falls away from Angus, trying to put out the clothes he’swearing that have caught aflame.

Taako jolts forward and catches Angus by the arm and dragshim away from the mercenary while Magnus steps forward to finish him off. Taakostares hard at the boy, ducking his head down slightly to look at the scratchon Angus’s throat.

“I’m okay, sir. Really!” Angus waves a hand dismissively andgestures at Taako’s hand, still wrapped around Angus’s arm. “You can let gonow.”

It takes Taako a second, but he does let go, jerking hishand away like it was his idea to release Angus to begin with. “Good. Wouldn’twant you to die a shitty wizard.”

Angus smiles widely at the elf as Taako sticks his nose upand lords his scant few inches over Angus. “Of course not, sir.”

Taako squints at the boy for a long moment before he huffsand struts off, swinging the Umbra Staff up onto his shoulder. “Whatever, yalittle shit. Pay more attention next time, yeah?” Angus opens his mouth toanswer, maybe accuse Taako of not paying attention either, but Taako continuestalking. “Did’ja get ‘im, Mags?”

“Dead as dirt over here,” Magnus says, and kicks the rogueoff, blowing the corpse a raspberry.

Angus laughs as Merle steps up to his said. “You good, kid?”the dwarf asks, wiggling his bible. “I can give ya a heal if ya need?”

“It’s just a cut, really,” Angus insists. “No need to wasteslots on a little scratch, sir.”

Merle gives him a critical once over that says he doesn’treally believe Angus, but he doesn’t argue. “If you say so.”

“I do,” Angus says firmly, giving a decisive nod.

Merle rolls his eyes and trails after Taako, Magnus boundingup to his side in a couple of huge steps. The three start to chatter, Magnusleading the conversation with observations on how cool Taako and Merle’s magicis and how hard he hit the mercenaries. After a couple of minutes, Angus noticeshow warm his side feels. He dismisses it as the adrenaline of the situationwearing off.

Ten minutes later, he realizes that maybe he should havetaken Merle’s offer for a heal seconds before his vision goes dark and hecollapses.

Angus wakes up in Magnus’s lap. Merle is crouched besidehim, his hands glowing as he channels Pan’s divinity in a healing spell. Taakois leaning against a nearby tree, his umbrella hooked over one of his crossedarms. He’s pointedly looking resolutely in a different direction. Angus keepshis eyes cracked as slightly as he can, feigning sleep.

After a minute, Merle’s hands stop glowing. “There, good asnew. He might have a snarly scar, but it’s all healed up.” He pats his bible. “Thanks,big guy.”

“Good work, Merle,” Magnus says, smiling earnestly. Heglances down at Angus. “Poor kid.”

Taako scoffs and turns to look at them. “‘Poor kid?’ Healmost let himself die because he was too stubborn to say something.” Taakosighs, hard, and shakes his head. “Stupid.”

“What, like you haven’t done the same thing?” Magnus teases,cocking an eyebrow.

Taako glares at him, leaning more heavily against the tree. “Fuckyou. I have excellentself-preservation skills. Unlike somepeople whose names rhyme with ‘Agnus.’”

“And which one is that supposed to be?” Merle asks with asmirk.

Taako groans. Angus can’t see him all that well through hislashes, but it looks like Taako is fighting a smile. “Shut up, old man! I’mtrying to be mad, here!”

“Doin’ a piss poor job of it.” Merle’s voice oozes petulance.

“Don’t worry, sir. I liked your goof,” Angus says, finallydeciding he’d basically eavesdropped long enough.

“Angus! You’re awake!” Magnus smiles hugely down at him. “Youreally had us worried, bud!”

“You lost a lot of blood and that’s why you collapsed,” Merletells him, gesturing to his side. It’s covered in blood and Angus has no ideahow he didn’t notice it before. “You’re all good now, though.”

“What did I tell you about not dying?” Taako snaps, shovinghimself off the tree and uncrossing his arms. The umbrella slides perfectlydown his arm and dangles from his wrist and he puts his hands on his hips.

“Sorry, sir. I swear, I didn’t notice how injured I was!” Angussits up with help from Magnus and watches as Taako’s face relaxes somewhat.

Taako waves a limp wristed hand at Angus and suddenly his clothesare clean, the blood prestidigitated away. “Paymore attention next time,” Taako tells him for the second time in one day,and Angus flushes.

“Right. Sorry, sir.” He gives the Reclaimers a sheepishgrin.

Magnus hugs him. “I’m just glad you’re okay!”

Merle pats him on the shoulder and he climbs to his feet. “Nexttime, kid, just take the healing, yeah?”

“You got it!” Angus gives a thumbs up and smile.

Magnus stands up and pulls Angus up and up until he’ssitting on the man’s shoulders. “C’mon, guys! We still got a mission to do!”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” Taako says, rolling his eyes andgiving Angus one last hard look that ends with a single, quick wink. “Let’s getgoing. Preferably before I start to get old.”

“What, like you’re not already?”

“Very funny, old man!”

Magnus laughs underneath Angus and the boy smiles. Thesethree might not be the nicest all the time but they do care, even if they have a hard time showing it.

#taz #tazb #thezonecast #taz fic #angus #taako #merle #magnus #thb #student teacher #ask #answer #prompt fill #emily-the-almighty #kiera writes fics

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badonkodank · 7 years

Text

Who We Are, Who We Want To Be

ao3

A/N: Requested by reviewer: AvengeTheCap

People assumed a lot of things about the Pines twins.

They assumed because Stanley looked bigger, bulkier, he must be the older one.

They assumed because Stanford was smart, he must also be an overbearing know-it-all.

They assumed because Stanford was the nerd, Stanley must be the jock; that if Stanley was strong, Stanford must be weak.

And because Stanford was a genius, they assumed he must look down on his brother and think him a moron. Because if Stanford was brilliant, Stanley had to be dumber than a stack of bricks. They assumed nothing ever bothered Stanley, because he was too stupid to realize he should be upset.

That was so far off the mark it might have been hilarious if it wasn’t so detrimental to the way the brothers were treated.

It wasn’t something Stanford had immediately picked up on, of course; he may have been smart, but with that intelligence came the awkwardness of trying to hold a normal conversation with his peers. They wanted nothing more than to ignore him, because they assumed he was going to flaunt his intellect and treat them like illiterates. It made picking up on a lot of social assumptions and cliches that had been thrown onto him and Stanley rather difficult.

Granted, those assumptions were hard to miss on days like today, when people made no attempt to veil the true meaning behind their words. Ford tried not to wince as he set the book he’d been reading down on the bleachers to watch Stanley walk out of the locker room with their coach looking annoyed, speaking in that harsh tone that echoed throughout the, by now, empty gym.

“...I don’t care if he looked like a baby or an adorable bunny rabbit! When someone steps in the ring opposite ya, ya take ‘em out! I don’t care how inexperienced they look, that’s how they get ya! Do ya understand me?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Ya old man ain’t gonna have it if ya lose. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Keep it up an’ I just might ‘ave Stanford ‘ave a go.”

“He doesn’t wan-”

“Least he wouldn’ta looked like an idiot.”

“... Yeah.”

“A’ight, get outta here. Fix ya face.”

Ford might have attempted replacing his frown with something lighter when his brother came over to grab his backpack, but seeing that their coach had been right in saying Stanley needed to do something about his injury, he couldn’t bring himself to wipe away the displeased expression. He had paid attention to the fight, of course he had, but seeing how he’d been in one of the back rows he hadn’t been able to make out the extent of the damage. Stan had played it off as nothing in the ring and since Ford hadn’t been able to get a proper glimpse of his face, he’d figured that it must really have been nothing to worry about.

After all, the guy he’d fought had been small in terms of… well about everything. It had been a win for Stanley, as everyone had assumed it would be the moment they saw the kid, but just barely, and it hadn’t been as easy as they’d expected either. That was probably why it had been so surprising when his brother had let his guard down in the first few seconds and allowed his opponent the opportunity to strike. Ford had been worried for half a second when that had happened, but when Stanley had recovered as if it had been no more than a subtle breeze that had hit him, he’d decided his brother was fine.

And while the split lip and black eye Ford now stared at certainly weren’t the worst he’d seen him sport after a match, they still looked painful and in need of a good icing when they got home. At least Pa hadn’t been there to watch, otherwise Stanley would’ve had to worry about dealing with more than just a short chewing-out from their coach.

His brother was probably thinking along the same lines, because when he spoke he asked Ford if he would back him up in saying the other guy was huge when their father inevitably asked how it had gone.

Whenever the man asked, Ford always had to swallow his waspish retort of, “if you wanted to know so badly you might actually come to a match once in awhile.”, that would do more harm than good in the end if spoken aloud. It was just so upsetting, seeing Stanley win in the ring nearly every time he stepped into it, and knowing Pa would only ever be showing up to the big, “important” ones. The man had practically forced Stanley into the sport, and now he couldn’t even be bothered to leave the shop long enough to support him.

Meanwhile, here Ford was, coming to every fight, whether it was practice or a real thing, big or small, because he cared about Stanley and was truly proud his brother had carved out a place in the school that was just his.

The pleased glint in Stanley’s eye whenever he landed a proper, solid blow, and the grin that would spread his face when he won made it worth it every time. And Ford would never say at times he thought himself better than their father, but… he did think that.

The proof was in the puddin’, as Ma would say, and there was an abundance of proof that supported the notion of his father not being as good a person as him when it came to Stanley. Perhaps that was conceited, but Ford didn’t care. The fact of the matter was he came to his twin’s events, he listened to him when he needed to talk, he helped Stanley with school, and Pa did none of those things. Ford cared about Stanley and showed it. Their father just didn’t.

Which was why he nodded in response to his brother’s request.

“What do you mean “pretend”, Stanley? The guy was at least half a foot taller than you.”

“Haha, that’s what I was sayin’!”

Ford could see some of the tension in Stanley’s shoulders bleed away and smiled softly as they made their way to their lockers where he’d left his backpack. He was always pleased when he was able to cheer his brother up, even a little, especially after someone had made him feel bad.

Lately Stanley got irritated when he tried to jump into a conversation in order to defend him, so Ford had resorted back to their usual form of comfort that did more to avoid the problem than anything else. This time Ford wished he had jumped in, because the smile his brother wore didn’t quite reach his eyes, and the reasons behind it were easy enough to deduce; even if Stan denied that Coach’s words had stung, he knew better.

He wished he’d just jumped in and told the man to back off, because everyone had their off days, even his brother. It wasn’t Stanley’s fault, anyway. Not really. That opponent kid had definitely used his youthful and slight appearance to his advantage, and it wasn’t like Stanley enjoyed hurting people.

He just liked feeling powerful, and brave. That was all. Ford could understand that.

“Coach doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about, you know.”

The heavy sigh Stan released had Ford wincing even before he heard his brother’s reply. That sigh always meant nothing good would be coming out of his mouth.

“He knows exactly what he’s sayin’, I screwed up today,” Stan said with a shrug, “It happens.”

“But-”

“Can we just drop it?”

“I…” Stan glanced back at him, an almost pleading look in his eyes that had Ford snapping his mouth shut, nodding tersely.

There was no point trying to tell his brother something when he clearly didn’t want to hear it, and he knew how quickly his encouragement could turn to gentle berating if he was allowed to go on. It was just so frustrating when Stan refused to listen when he tried to make him feel better. Sometimes it felt like he didn’t want to feel better.

Ford supposed he could understand that; he liked to feel sorry for himself too- more often than his brother, at any rate. That didn’t make it any less upsetting though.

When they stopped in front of their lockers Ford knelt and got to work with the combination. He sensed more than heard the approach as he pulled his pack out of the container.

When Crampelter spoke, he sighed so heavily he feared it might have echoed throughout the entire hall.

“Sup, Four-Eyes. Sweaty.”

“Oh my God, don’t you have anythin’ better ta do?” Stan’s eyeroll could be heard in his exasperated tone and Ford stifled a snort.

The bully’s harrassments were biweekly by now and the brothers had become more or less fed up with him. It had started to show, too. Crampelter didn’t seem to appreciate their defiance either, if the beating he’d arranged last week had been any indication. Apparently that still wasn’t going to stop Stanley from being difficult.

Ford stood swiftly, scowling at the junior in silent support of his brother. Crampelter only scoffed and turned his attention back to Stan.

“Heard ya almost lost to a wimpy half-pint.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t,” Stan said.

“Ya really sucked out there.”

“Mm.”

“Coach is pissed.”

“I know.”

Crampelter frowned when Stan shrugged, confusion taking hold of his features, and Ford couldn’t exactly laugh at him because he himself couldn’t believe how nonchalant his brother was being.

“W-Well, he’s probably gonna call your parents and let em know how ya messed up.”

Ford bit his tongue to keep from snapping at the older teen. What kind of cheap shot was that supposed to be?

“What’s your point?” Stan sounded more tired than anything by then and Ford narrowed his eyes at Crampelter, daring him to elaborate.

The only thing the other knew about their family life was what he heard his own father gossip about with his officer buddies, but if he was hinting at what Ford assumed he was hinting at, he wanted to hear him say it to their faces.

He couldn’t imagine why the bully would go at anything from that angle today, especially so suddenly and when they’d done nothing to provoke him… but he could be unpredictable.

And oh, Ford dared him.

Go ahead. Say it. Give Stan a reason to knock your teeth out.

“Nothin’. Just bet yer pop ain’t gonna be happy.”

“Probably not, but he never is, so...” Stan shrugged once more and lazily hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “You done?”

Crampelter seemed at a loss for words and Ford tried not to let his own shock show. He always had a comeback… though, Stan was also usually riled up more, which gave him something to work with.

Actually, come to think of it, why wasn’t he more upset? Usually talk like this got him red in the face and ready for a fight. Was something wrong or had he actually decided to heed his advice and not give Crampelter a reaction?

Whatever the reason, Stan’s apathetic responses had the effect Ford had hypothesized they would, and the older teen scoffed and walked away, muttering under his breath words that were better left ignored.

“Yeesh, what was his problem? Am I right?”

Ford started when Stan barked a harsh laugh, but quickly recovered with a light chuckle of his own. “Yep. He has issues.”

“You could say that again.”

The sudden change in his demeanor made Ford relax, his smile smoothing out into something more genuine when Stan threw an arm around his shoulders and ruffled his hair. So he had just been taking his advice on ignoring Crampelter, then. Good.

A yelp escaped him when Stan exclaimed suddenly and turned to drag him towards the nearest exit. Ford opened his mouth to ask what the hurry was about, but stopped himself when he remembered it was Friday; he should have known Stanley would want to move as quickly as humanly possible. Honestly, his memory was better than that.

Ever since they’d found the broken-up craft they’d dubbed the Stan’O’War at age 12 the two had made a commitment to always work on it every Friday after school, whether they had homework or not. The only times they could temporarily pause that commitment were when their parents said they couldn’t go out, or when they were both so tired they agreed they’d do it Saturday. Both pause options were rarely ever needed after they’d hit 14, and now, two years later, Ford was pretty sure they’d only missed a week’s worth of boat work in total. Which was sort of impressive when he thought about it.

But then, it was his and Stanley’s favorite thing to do, their special pet project, so of course they would keep to the schedule.

Though, apparently they were stopping by their house first, since his brother was heading in the opposite direction of the beach. Ford didn’t question the choice, as it was pretty self-explanatory; Stan was usually hungry after a match, and he’d want to grab some ice for his eye as well.

Okay, actually, he wanted to get some ice for Stan’s bruises. His twin didn’t actually care whether his injuries were seen to or not. That was something that always worried Ford, but he never said anything if for no other reason that to avoid annoying him. Stan got awfully touchy whenever he was shown proper care nowadays. It was never something he’d enjoyed, sure, but he didn’t used to make such a fuss over it like he did lately. Ford didn’t know why exactly that was, but it saddened him all the same.

When they got home Stanford sighed at the throng of people they had to push past in the shop to get upstairs. Weekends during the fall and winter months were usually busy, but honestly, it was a little ridiculous that they had to struggle to get into their own house some days. At least the crowd meant their Pa was busy and wouldn’t notice them getting back.

They should be able to sneak in and out without being noticed.

Ma was on the phone upstairs and Ford flashed her a quick smile when she waved at him and Stanley as they made their way to the small kitchen. As suspected, snacks were the first order of business in his brother’s mind. Stanley made a beeline for the cupboard that had been dubbed “theirs” and rummaged around a moment before producing his last bag of toffee peanuts and a sack of jelly beans. After that it was straight to the fridge to retrieve some water and Pitt Cola.

Ford opened up his backpack when Stanley came over with the goods and allowed him to deposit them beside his notebooks. The routine was a familiar one and the brothers worked like a well-oiled machine, with Ford double checking that they had everything needed for the pen and paper aspect of the boat and Stan grabbing the few tools they had to bring home every week from under the sink.

Normally the time doing everything was passed with casual conversation about the day, some playful jabs thrown into the mix because why not, but today, it was different. Stanley was… awfully -uncharacteristically- quiet.

Ford wanted to ask what that was about, but feared he already knew the answer, and that he wouldn't be able to fix it, so he stayed silent. It was better to say nothing then to say something wrong, right? He thought so.

When they finished with that, Ford grabbed a packet of ice from the freezer that Ma always kept on hand for instances such as these, and handed it to his brother. Stanley fought it for maybe a second before relenting and placing it over his eye- probably to get him off his back. Ford would take it either way.

They were on their way back downstairs when Ma’s voice stopped them.

“So, Stanley, how’d that match go?”

Stanley barely missed a beat before answering, his tone bright and falsely cheerful in a way that made Ford cringe.

“Good! I won.”

“I figured ya would, Peanut. Good job.”

“Thanks, Ma,” Stan said, the smile on his face a little softer then, more genuine. “Sixer an’ I are headed out now, ‘kay?”

“A’kay, be back before ten, ya hear?”

“Gotcha!” Stan gave a mock salute despite the fact that their mother couldn’t see it, before quickly heading out once more.

While there were fewer customers downstairs than when they’d first arrived, there were still enough to keep their pop from noticing them and the two were able to get back outside without any further holdups, something for which Ford was immensely thankful.

Besides, he’d ask Stanley about the match, and unlike Ma, he’d want details. Ford never looked forward to seeing his brother so down after those conversations. It was better to avoid those situations altogether.

They walked to the beach in a silence that was both peaceful and tense at the same time, and Stanford wished he could ignore the latter feeling, but with every step it became worse. Still, he didn’t say anything to Stanley about it because he knew his brother was only trying to forget all the crappy things that had happened earlier in the day- if the way he kept shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders was any indicator, he was having some mental conversations with himself again.

Stanford knew the shiner his twin sported would be a sore and embarrassing subject should it be brought up -much like his grades were for him when he didn’t get 100%- so he knew to keep away from that line of conversation. Instead, he began thinking up things they could talk about when they got to the boat; things that would make his brother laugh and put the match and the homework looming over his head out of mind for the night.

It wouldn’t be too difficult considering Stanley already didn’t want to dwell on his own thoughts, he just had to make sure the transition back into talking was casual. Then again, even if it seemed forced, his brother would appreciate the effort and roll with it. That was just one of the great things about Stanley.

“So, Stanley, what do you wanna work on today?”

“Hmm?”

Ford repeated the question and sighed inwardly in relief when Stanley hummed in thought.

“I dunno… We finally got most a’ the hull finished up last week, so… mast?”

“Heh, I was actually thinkin’ along the same lines.”

“Cool.”

“Right,” Ford said as they stopped in front of the craft in question. She was starting to look fantastic, if he did say so. In fact, he bet it would only be another year or two until she was ready to be out on the water. He knew Stanley was looking forward to that day as much as he was.

It wouldn’t be too long after that that they would be able to leave that town behind and go on the adventures they’d only ever dreamed about before. The older they got, the harder it became to work out the logistics of how they’d do it, but thus far Ford had been able to. Sure, it would cost some extra cash they didn’t have at the moment, but Stanley was working on getting a job at the garage, and Ford was sure he’d be able to pick up some jobs around town for the library and school. They were always good for some extra cash, and they loved him.

It would take some time, but thankfully, that was something they had on their side.

“Oi, Poindexter, quit zonin’ out!”

Stanford blinked when Stanley dragged him out of his daydreaming. His brother was already on the boat and he laughed a little at how deep into thought he’d fallen that he hadn’t even noticed the teen move.

“Sorry.”

Ford climbed up the ladder they kept leaned against the Stan’O’War for ease of access and went to stand by him.

“So, what’s the first order a’ business?”

Ford didn’t bother giving that too much thought before jumping into the plan he’d worked up earlier in the day. He knew Stanley was feeling down, but experience had taught him that if anything would pull him from his stupor, it would be working on their baby. Stanley just needed a distraction for a little while, and Ford was all too happy to provide him that for the rest of the night.

Ma calling them down for breakfast was what finally roused Stanford from his comfortable sleep. He combed his fingers through his hair briefly -a habit developed after the insane, gravity-defying bedhead had warranted teasing from Stanley- before rolling off the top bunk with a groan. He proceeded to flop gracelessly onto his brother, effectively waking him too.

“Aw wha’th’hell?!”

Stanley shoved weakly at him until Ford relented and got off, dragging the blankets off as he went before the younger teen could pull them over his head.

“C’mon, Stanley, Ma called us down.”

“Uuuuugh, fine.” His brother sat up and took his sweet time stretching, eliciting an eyeroll from the other. When he finally got out of bed, a few minutes had passed and Ford had gone to the bathroom to change his clothes, brush his teeth and properly fix his hair.

He met Stanley at the stairs and frowned when he noticed the tight grip his brother had on the banister.

“Stanley?”

“Ma and Pa are talkin’. We should probably wait until they’re done.”

Ford tilted his head in confusion then. His twin was rarely concerned with interrupting people when they were in the middle of a conversation on a normal day, so what was different now?

He went to ask his twin that but got his answer when he heard their father’s voice raise enough that his words could be heard clearly.

“He ain’t tryin’ hard enough and you know it.”

“He’s doin’ ‘is best, Filbrick!”

Oh. So it was going to be one of those mornings. But… what had brought it on? Stanley hadn’t done anything bad, their report cards hadn’t come in yet, so what…? No matter how much Ford wracked his brain, he couldn’t find a reason Pa would be upset with his brother.

What he did know, though, was that the words were hurting Stanley, and that he would not stand for.

“Hey,” Ford grabbed his twin’s hand, pulling him out of wherever his mind had wandered, “They’ll live. C’mon, I’m hungry.”

Stanley resisted for half a second before following him down. Ford wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be encouraging. As soon as their parents heard them they quieted, and the two took their respective spots at the table. Ford knew it was a foolish to hope they’d get through the meal without conversation, but he still found himself flinching when their father finally opened his mouth.

“Coach Rogers called last night.”

“... He did?”

“Said ya almost lost. Again.”

“Wha- no I didn’t! I got hit but I didn’t almost l-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Pa snapped and Ford winced, the secondhand discomfort acute as Stanley hunched his shoulders as if he was trying to curl into himself.

“You been slackin’ again, Stanley, and it’s unacceptable.”

“But-”

“I’m tired a’ your excuses too, so shut it!”

“‘Kay.”

Ford glanced over and upon seeing Stanley’s defeated expresion, bit his lip until he tasted copper. This wasn’t fair. At all... But then, Pa’s lectures rarely were. As unfortunate as it was, they’d just have to ride it out like they always did.

“You been failin’ your classes. I ain’t havin’ you failin’ this too when it’s the only thing you got goin’ for you, understood?”

Stanley nodded dully.

“I mean, this is just ridiculous, Stanley! You need to straighten up and do the work. You ain’t gonna be livin’ here forever, and the world don’t accept failures.”

Ford wasn’t sure he managed to contain the scowl that wanted to settle on his face when that last word came from their father’s mouth. He hated that word, especially when it was directed at Stanley. It hurt his twin every time and made Ford’s blood boil.

He’s not a failure! He wanted to scream, but kept silent; yelling would get them nowhere but in deeper trouble. That fact rankled him even more. How come nobody else could see what Ford saw? That Stanley was really smart in his own way- That he was great!

Not that he expected their father to ever see, of course. He never saw anything unless it was staring him in the face. Unless he saw Stanley winning, he assumed he was failing, and nothing else was ever good enough for him.

But why didn’t Stanley stand up for himself? If anyone else were to be speaking to him like this, Ford knew they’d be on the floor sporting a bloody nose, and while he couldn’t imagine his brother raising a hand against Pa, he also almost wished he would. At least then he’d be doing something other than responding to the grilling with a whispered, “I know.”

And the words sounded so hollow, so distant and pained, and that was the last straw for Ford. Without knowing exactly what he was doing, he huffed to grab Pa’s attention.

“He did win. I would know; I was there.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

The cold anger suddenly radiating from the man made Ford step back involuntarily, clasping his hands behind his back as he looked at the floor. Funny… he hadn’t meant to ``stand up. He also hadn’t meant for his tone to sound so accusatory...

“Nothing. J-Just that- I mean, Stanley has been workin’ really hard in boxing. Yesterday was an accident… I, uh, distracted him, that’s why he got hit.” Ford could feel his brother’s eyes on him but he didn’t dare look while he continued, “He’s been doin’ his best in school too. We did some studying last night and he’s workin’ really hard… That’s all I was sayin’.”

Their father scrutinized him for another second before humming under his breath and nodding tersely. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again, you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” Ford swallowed audibly and sat back down, forcing his breath to remain steady when he glanced over to see Stanley staring intently at his food, picking at it but not actually eating.

He wanted to do something to reassure him, but aside from nudging him with his foot, there was nothing he could do with Pa breathing down their necks. Besides, it didn’t sound like the man was done talking yet, and the last thing Ford wanted to do was make it seem like he wasn’t paying attention.

“An’ if that’s true, Stanley, then I expect you to be workin’ hard for all your classes from now on.”

“‘Kay.”

Stanley’s voice was steady but Ford could tell he’d just barely managed to keep it that way. It seemed to appease Pa, though, who went back to eating and reading the paper as if nothing had happened- as if he hadn’t just essentially told his son he was a huge disappointment and that he’d eventually be thrown into the adult world without his parents to back him up.

Stanford kept a tight lid on his anger towards the injustice of it all. He’d almost been hoping Stan would tell Pa to shove it where the sun don’t shine. Almost. He wasn’t dumb enough to think that doing so wouldn’t have ramifications, which was why he was glad his brother hadn’t, but… it never sat well with him when the teen just took the verbal beatings without so much as a scowl.

He’d gotten so used to them.

It wasn’t the first time Ford had acknowledged that fact, but he still felt sick to his stomach at the thought all the same.

The teen pushed his plate away without a word in the same moment his brother got up, excusing himself and heading out of his line of sight. The sound of his footsteps heading downstairs had Ford hastily standing and thanking Ma for breakfast, giving her a peck on the cheek as he did (she wasn’t the one he was upset with, after all) before going after Stanley.

They arrived at the beach without a hitch and Ford took his time catching up, giving his twin time to calm and gather whatever thoughts were bouncing around his head.

Stanley was leaning against the swing set they’d long ago claimed as their own, looking out at the crisp blue ocean with what Ford could imagine were eyes glazed over with misery as he played their father’s cruel words over in his head. To anyone passing by it would have looked like he was simply enjoying the scenery, but after so many years of being there to comfort his brother, Ford knew differently.

The way his brother’s shoulders drooped lower than normal, how he kept clenching and unclenching his fists slowly and shoving his hands into his pockets only to remove them a second later, it all screamed “NOT OKAY”.

“Hey,” he said softly, standing beside his twin.

He didn’t reply. In fact, if Ford was seeing things correctly, he shifted away from him. The movement was subtle, but it had him frowning nonetheless. “What is it?”

Once again, his twin said nothing, not even making eye contact as Ford narrowed his eyes, his earlier irritation towards their father resurfacing and directing itself outward.

Why was Stanley acting upset with him? He’d been the one to get Pa off his back.

“What? What did I do this time?”

“What didn’t ya do?”

The words dripped bitterness and Ford was taken aback by them even as he rose to his own defence. “You’re not seriously making this about me.”

“Technically you’re the one who made it about yourself.”

“I did not!”

“I’m sorry, what was that ‘what did I do’, then?”

Ford glowered at his brother and crossed his arms over his chest. It wasn’t often that his brother got like this. He swallowed the urge to yell at Stanley when his pulse spiked as his frustration levels rose; they wouldn’t get anywhere if he let the anger get to him. He acknowledged that he’d already made a mistake in conversation and steeled his expression as he asked his brother what was wrong.

“Ya had no right, Stanford!”

Ford startled at the sudden volume, his arms tightening their hold on his sides. He hated being shouted at, even when he understood, logically, that his twin was only yelling at him because there was nobody else to yell at. Still, it didn’t stop the stinging and confusion that the words brought on.

“What are you talking about?”

Stanley glared hard, his jaw clenching as he elaborated for him. “I didn’t need your help.”

“Wait, seriously? You’re mad at me for getting Pa off your back?”

His genuine bewilderment must have been evident because Stanley’s glare shifted into a less enraged scowl and he muttered, “I can handle myself.”

And that was a laughable statement if Ford had ever heard one! He didn’t laugh though- couldn’t find it in himself to do so. However, he did allow himself a small scoff before he spoke, looking past his brother so he wouldn’t have to see how the words affected him.

“Right, that looked like you were handling it.”

He knew it was a low blow before he’d spoken, and the way Stanley tensed out of the corner of his eye was all he needed to know he probably shouldn’t have said it at all. Never let it be said that he thought everything through completely before he spoke.

Ford braced himself for the cuss-out he knew he deserved, then, and frowned when it never came. All he got was a growled order to shut up.

Oh. All… right…

“Seriously, what’s wrong? You’ve been so… so passive these last few days.”

The reaction was immediate, if the complete opposite of what he’d had been hoping for. He turned away once more to stare at the waves beating against the shore, his entire frame tense. Ford scratched the back of his neck then, at a loss for what to do next. All he could think to do was stay quiet and hope his brother would eventually come out of it and talk to him… or prod at him until he gave in.

One of the options would be slower and might not yield any result, the other had the potential to make his twin angrier, yet it promised some form of answer.

In the end it wasn’t any sort of real contest.

“I’m sorry, Stanley. I’m not trying to make you mad, it’s just… I’m not used to seeing you this way. You know what I mean? You’re usually so… you, and recently you haven’t been.”

His brother’s stance sagged a little and Ford felt relief flood his system. Good, he was saying something right, at least, even if it was coming out less than eloquently. He wasn’t too keen on speaking from the heart without any sort of “nerdy stuff” (as Stanley liked to call it) backing him up, but at least his twin knew he was being sincere.

“You’re worryin’ me, Stanley, and I’m sure you’re not meanin’ to. I just… Aside from defendin’ you, did I do something?”

“What- no,” Stanley shook his head vehemently before leaning against the swingset, as if using solid weight of it beneath his hands to summon the courage to keep speaking. “I don’t know what it is. Lately…”

“Lately?” Ford nudged gently. He could tell he wanted to keep going, but just like he wasn’t great at speaking from the heart properly, his twin had trouble putting words to how he was feeling.

“Lately I just don’t see the point in tryin’ anymore.” Stanley sighed when Ford frowned, his confusion evident, “I mean, I wanna do better, but what good is trying when nobody cares anyway?”

“I care!” Ford ignored the pang in his chest with the knowledge that Stanley thought he wouldn’t and continued, “Of course I care, Stanley! Why wouldn’t I? And- wait, why didn’t you tell me when you started feeling like this?”

Stanley shrugged and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the sand. “Didn’t want you to think ‘m a loser.”

The admission was so quiet the ocean sounds almost drowned them completely, but Ford caught them, as well as the unspoken “like Pa”. He swallowed the lump that suddenly tried to form in his throat. He really thought he’d think so low of him? Why? Had he ever given his brother an indication that he could ever think that?

Oh, Moses, what if I did? When could that have been? Every conversation they’d ever have tried to spring to mind then and Ford nearly missed his brother’s next words as he searched through his own memories.

“Also didn’t wanna get your hopes up. Y’know, like Pa. Expectin’ somethin’ more from me even though I got nothin’ to give.”

“That’s not true,” Ford cursed the hoarse edge in his voice but powered through, “I don’t know where you got that idea, Stanley, but it’s not true. What made you think it was?”

The question was met with silence and Stanford wanted nothing more than to see his brother’s face then. Stanley could be his own worst enemy when he wanted to be, and if he’d really been feeling this way about himself for as long is it sounded, he was in a bad spot. Ford would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he felt awful for not noticing sooner.

Had Stanley been that good at hiding… or had he just not seen because he assumed he was fine?

Ford waited a couple more seconds for something, anything, that might tell him how his brother was doing. When he received nothing, he stepped forward so he was in front of Stanley; it was driving him insane, not knowing what was going through his head.

The sight of tears swimming in Stanley’s eyes was not what he’d been expecting, and it was enough to make Ford feel like he’d been punched in the gut. He bit his lip as his twin stared back at him, looking as scared as he’d seen him in a long time, and Ford’s hands shot out to grab his brother’s shoulders, steadying him even though he didn’t need it. He didn’t know what else to do.

Just how long had this been bothering him?

“Lee?”

His soft inquiry had Stanley closing his eyes tight and shaking his head. Ford’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. He hated this. This… he couldn’t even fully comprehend what “this” was, but it was awful.

Oh, Lee. I’m sorry.

Without putting much thought into his actions, Ford brushed Stanley’s not-yet-gelled hair out of his face, gentle even though he didn’t need to be. When he spoke again, he kept his voice soft.

“What makes you think you have nothing to give?”

Stanley shook his head once more, a shaky sigh escaping him. “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s upsettin’ you, it’s not stupid,” Ford countered immediately. Stanley needed to understand that, believe that, even if he didn’t believe anything else Ford ever said. If there was one thing he’d always cared about more than anything else in the world, it was his brother, and Ford couldn’t see that ever changing.

Stanley’s throat bobbed as he gulped. “Pa’s right. I’m never goin’ anywhere. And I don’t want you to be disappointed cuz of me. I know ‘m not smart.”

“Of course you’re smart!” Ford gaped and leaned back in his surprise, “Why would you say that?”

Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say, though, as Stanley wrapped his arms around his middle and looked back down at the ground. “Told you you’d think it’s stupid.”

“No, no, Stanley, I’m sorry,” Stanford ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to slow down. If he wanted his brother to keep talking, he knew he had to be fair and not continually interrupt him. It was just hard not to, when he was beating himself up. He wasn’t used to hearing him talk like that.

“S’fine,” Stanley sighed after a minute, “I know what you mean. But… I’m right. ‘M not smart- at least not in the way you are,” he quickly added when Ford opened his mouth to object again, “Not in the way that counts. An’ I never will be, so what’s the point in… in tryin’?”

As Stanley continued Ford noted with growing alarm that his voice sounded closer to breaking with every word he said, and that he had no idea what to do if he started crying. It was rare for his brother to shed tears -which was odd, considering how he wore his heart on his sleeve- and the fact that this was all coming out after a typical, if unnecessarily harsh, scolding from their father meant Stanley had probably been letting these thoughts fester for some time. It wasn’t a comforting realization.

“Sure, I got boxin’, and at least I can do that- or, at least I could - but people expect that. Why try any harder at anything else when everyone’s only gonna care about what they want you to do?

I… I bet I would do good in school, but… why bother? Nobody believes I can do it, and if I do, they assume I cheat, because you’re the smart one- a-and that’s not a bad thing! You’re a genius and you deserve to have people know it. But… I don’t know. I guess, I’m not goin’ anywhere in life, so it doesn’t matter what I do.

I could try to change, but at this point… it’d be pr-pretty useless. Ya know? They’ll never see me any different. I’m the spare, the idiot wh-who can’t do anything right… and I… Sixer, at this point I don’t even wanna have the option of being anything more than what they think I am.”

Stanley choked on the last word and Ford felt his heart shatter several times over. He hadn’t realized... hadn’t even considered… How could he have missed so much? How had he not seen that Stan was so torn up inside? He… he was his twin, his best friend, and he hadn’t noticed how much everyone’s words had been affecting him…

He didn’t even know what to say; how could he begin to apologize or make things better for his brother, but he found himself speaking anyway.

“You’re not stupid, Lee. I wish you would stop sayin’ you are.”

The whimpering noise that came from the back of Stan’s throat kept him going, filling the silence in hopes that he’d say something that would make his brother stop hurting so badly.

“Lee, you try harder than anyone I know- myself included. I don’t care if nobody else believes that so long as you do. You need to remember that. I know you try, I know how great you are. And, Lee, you are smart. Really smart! Sure, maybe not in the same way I am, but who says that’s a bad thing?”

“Uh, everyone?” Stan scoffed and Ford shook his head and gripped his twin’s shoulders once more.

“No. Forget everyone else. If they think you’re stupid, then that’s their problem, and they’re the real idiots. And, c’mon, I’m dumb in a bunch of ways myself-”

Stanley took a turn shaking his head and Ford couldn’t contain a harsh laugh before he pushed on. “Please, Stan, I can’t talk to anyone outside our family without sounding like a pretentious jerk- not to mention I don’t know how to talk to girls at all! Lee, I once had my wallet stolen by a kid who asked to see my library card!”

That pulled a little chuckle from his twin and Ford could’ve wept with joy.

“Exactly! I’m dumb in plenty of ways, if simply not knowing something is your definition of that word. So… you aren’t stupid. And… anyone who thinks you are just because you aren’t brilliant the same way I am, they’re morons- Pa included. Screw expectations, Stanley! Out of everyone in town, you’re the one who’s always saying, what was it? ‘Rules and expectations are for nerds and squares’? Those are things for people like me, Lee, not you, and that’s what makes you so amazing!”

Stanley’s head shot up in surprise and Ford thanked his stars that he was pulled back enough to avoid collision. His brother stared at him, eyes wide and damp and he took the momentary shock to keep going, rambling less as he realized what he wanted to say. What he needed to say. Stan needed to know just how special he was, and damn it all if he wasn’t going to do his best to be the one to get him there.

“Yes, you’re amazing! You think outside the box and you get things done in creative and sometimes downright brilliant ways because of it.” A frown marred his twin’s face at that and Ford huffed under his breath before a memory struck him upside the head.

“Hey, remember back in ninth grade, when we had to make that presentation on genetic functions, and I had been putting way too much thought into it, to the point where I was making myself anxious?”

His brother nodded slowly.

“I had been overthinking it, remember? You were the one who came up with the solution to it for me. I got an ‘A’ on that because of you. Just because you don’t think in ways considered conventional doesn’t mean you’re dumb. And you know what? Pa’s wrong if he thinks you’re gonna end up a failure, cuz you’re not. You’re going to go so far in life. You, Stanley Pines, are one of a kind!”

Stanley sagged forward then, dropping his forehead into the crook of his neck. Ford was quick to wrap his arms tightly around his brother, smiling softly when he felt Stan give him a light squeeze.

“And you could never disappoint me,” He added in little more than a whisper.

When his twin’s shoulders shook as a damp spot formed on the collar of his shirt, Ford shushed him quietly, rubbing small circles into his back until he calmed down. He wiped at his own eyes with his free hand before Stan pulled back, eyes red-rimmed but otherwise looking… Ford almost dared say, better. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Either way, he didn’t look nearly as miserable as he had minutes prior.

“Heh,” Stanley chuckled, doing away with the silence as he gave Ford’s shoulder a light punch. “I still have to get good grades now cuz a’ you, you jerk.”

A smile overtook his own expression and Ford rolled his eyes. “I can help you. Besides, if all else fails, you can just copy off my work… at least enough to keep Pa off your back.”

“Alright, I guess I’m pacified,” Stanley nodded, going to take a seat on his designated swing.

“‘Pacified’, huh? That’s a new one for you,” Ford nudged him lightly in the ribs as he took his place on the opposite seat. Stan only sent an unimpressed raised brow in response, which served to make Ford snigger.

They sat like that for some time, until the sun was high in the sky and they both knew they should’ve been doing homework or chores, or something equally as productive. Ford hadn’t realized how long it had been since they’d both been that relaxed until that moment. Naturally, in the past he’d assumed that Stan was just as at peace as he, but now, after finding out all that he had, he could look back on those moments and see that his brother had always been… out of it.

Now, though, with nothing weighing down so heavily upon him, Stan seemed to genuinely be enjoying the quiet.

Or, perhaps not, if the way he shattered it meant anything.

“I still can’t believe ya actually thought that kid wanted to see your library card.”

“Wha- I didn’t- I mean-he was ten and looked innocent enough, and we’d been talking about books, it was an honest mista- Stanley knock it off.”

Ford huffed indignantly, his cheeks coloring as Stan’s booming laughter echoed around them. Yeah… that had not been one of his finer moments, he supposed. And, honestly, thinking back on it, Ford really could see the humor behind his blunder; it was no wonder his twin found it so funny.

At least Stanley knew he wasn’t lying when he said he could be a real moron. They both knew firsthand how true of a statement that was. The real amusing part of that memory, though, was how they’d gotten the wallet back by having Stan con the kid. To this day Ford wasn’t even sure he understood how his brother had done it so smoothly, but it still managed to impress him whenever he thought about it. He’d even convinced the kid to give them ten bucks for the trouble.

And Stanley thought he wasn’t smart.

#gravity falls #the grunkles #young grunks #hurt/comfort #one-shot #filbrick #ma Pines #abuse tw #my ff #my writing #mine #do NOT tag as stan/cest

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survivormuxloe · 5 years

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Episode #5: “sushi + running isn’t the best combo.” - Mo

Sad to Linus quit honestly. Hope he’s alright but yeah that sucks.

So Linus just quit. It’s unfortunate and slightly annoying that we had another’s person quit. Especially since we had players like Jose and Jaylen who actually wanted to play. But then again I’m just trying to get the crown so I can’t really complain when someone else falls. Final 14 so I’m expecting merge to happen in the next 4 tribals.

Alright so hey I'm a bit late but since we last left off we were heading to tribal, at that point I was actually thinking Jose likely had an idol since you know.. throwing two random names 30 minutes before tribal when you know you can't get the numbers is a very idol-ish thing to do. So me and Tobi decided to vote Mo just in case an idol was played and both of them voted together. But actually at the end of the day Jose voted Mo and Mo well he didn't show up LMAO, which was actually bad because then his self vote would make it a 4-4 tie and while I think voting jose out after that would've been achieavable I would rather not give him the chance to fight. Luckily Mo showed up and voted him so that was it and he prob didn't see it coming but hey the lad was took it well so kudos to him.

So right after that the hosts pulled a sneaky on us and the live challenge was actually a swap (bragging rights I predicted it yay...look at me predicting a swap at f15 I'm so smart....)

And for once luck was on my side since I'm still on mercia alongside Felix David and Mo. With Wes joining us from the other tribe. Now I did vote Mo but maybe he doesn't think it was me? I mean tbf after he didn't show up at tribal I scream_messaged him to vote for Jose so who knows. But either way we have the inmense unit of David with us and Wes who I barely know from another org I'm playing at the same time so there's that

And then ofc Felix the crazy german god bless his soul he saved us this week from going to tribal <3

And as I write this Linus has quit the game so I guess that's 2 out of 2 for wins that I really didn't get to enjoy but oh well. At least this gives Michael and Dani a chance over at that tribe now that it is 2-2. As for Tobi well he carried his own new tribe in that challenge so hopefully he can overcome that 4-1 disadvantage in case they go to tribal.

So puzzle challenge, okay let’s get on it. Wanna win it cause my og tribe are such an unknown. I want to work with tobi. But he will do what he needs to do to stay in. So my paranoid ass is conviced that my og tribe ain’t talking to me cause they want me out. Idk I’m being stupid but ahhh.

Here i am, losing the challenge, feeling a little sorry for myself because i'm like ok it's me i'm going. Then BOOM Linus quits and as much as i wanna be like oh buddy no you should stay it might get more fun i also wanna be like lol bye bye because now instead of getting voted out 3-2 me and Dani can now tie the vote should we go back to tribal which is obviously better than nothing. I'm bad at puzzles but im just gonna try my absolute hardest because i refuse to be Denise Stapley and go to every tribal council.

uhm so the immunity challenge is puzzles... great loll im legit so trash at puzzles and if we lose again ik it's gonna be bc of me ): i'm gonna try my best and not flop but i cant even enter the puzzles so idk whats gunna happen

Somehow I obtained 2 idol clues by sheer luck and honestly it's what I deserve in this game. I'm still debating if I even want an idol so I shared my clues with Jones because I wouldn't mind if she had an idol. But anyways there have been 2 quits which sucks but the only benefit is that now I at least will get 14th in this game.

lol we’re gunna lose again. but i aint going home america.. know that!

So I’m nervous my time might cost us the challenge but do you know what I’m not nervous about.... going home bc I have Dani loyal to me and me to her and also mr Scott and myself have established a f2 alliance named “crumpets and bagpipes” (name subject to change) so yeah hopefully I’m going nowhere hehe

SO IDK HOW I DO IT but people just kind of give me clues and answers to their idol puzzles. SURE I asked Scooty how he was doing for his results, but I never even asked Madison about her clues and she's just kind of,,,,giving them to me? and I love it <3 <3 <3 WELL ACTUALLY I TAKE IT BACK. I LOVED IT UNTIL I FOUND OUT THE FUCKING IDOL WAS TAKEN ALREADY. I was searching the playroom today and WHAT DO YOU KNOW "there was something there but it was taken" and I want to actually PERISH LIKE HOLY FUCK I WAS ACTUALLY!! SOOOOOOO CLOSE!!1!11 but yeah hopefully Linus didn't have it and quit with it I'll actually beat his entire ass

So like... after my amazing comeback last immunity challenge,, WHICH BY THE WAY FUCKIN WAS FOR NOTHING BECAUSE LINUS QUIT LIKE WHY DIDNT HE QUIT BEFORE THE DAMN CHALLENGE AND NOW I OUTED MYSELF AS A CHALLENGE THREAT... stupid..,, we flopped in this one like... madison and jones flopped hard kdjhflksdjfhs like did they even try.. now im in a peculiar situation.. the great thing is that rhys and ryan actually asked me to be a part of a three man alliance (im obv at the bottom) and like im definitely using this to my advantage and hopefully get out of this tribal!! im expecting at least one vote from madison which is natural but like im gonna fight tooth and nail to get out of this!! idc who i have to throw utb to get by but i'll do whatever it takes

HELL YEAH TO MERCIA FOR WINNING ANOTHER IMMUNITY. It feels so good to have come clutch again, especially after a scare from Mo, who didn't do the right puzzle. -.- ugh that pissed me off so much, especially with so little time left to do it. But Ahrre and I DESTROYED everyone else who did the hard puzzle so I can't complain.

Also, a new development. Ahrre and Felix seem to trust me SO much that they wanna share their idol guesses with me, which is fine with me considering I trust them the most on this new tribe. I feel it, omg I feel like I'm SO close to getting that idol and if I find it, it puts me in a huge power position. So I need to find it before these guys.

This was probably the most stressful round for me. So let’s go through the series of unfortunate events

1. I misread the post and I was doing the easy puzzle the entire time when I thought I was doing the hard puzzle. I took a picture on my phone with my score and my name in the search bar.

2. I hangout with my friend, we go get sushi and I buy some macaroons and then we chill in a Starbucks while we play Pokemon Go.

3. I submit my photo at 5:45 PM 15 minutes before the dead line only to get told that not only would the photo not of counted because I didn’t have the date and time in the photo. But I was also doing the wrong puzzle.

4. My scrawny out of shape ass sprints home and it was the kind of thing where like I was coughing because I ran too much.

5. Now I have to do the more difficult puzzle in 20 minutes. I didn’t get the chance to practice before hand, I feel like shit, I’m still coughing and I think I’m going to puke because sushi + running isn’t the best combo.

6. I don’t submit on time, and not only that I don’t abstain on time either. So I get a strike. The amount of fucking despair and sadness I felt as I was rushing through the puzzle only to realize I was too late even after getting granted an extension. It was so awful.

Well, sad linus left but the good news is we won immunity by three minutes! Michaels time was a MESS because we could’ve gotten first if he did better but that’s alright we got second so that’s good. I like my remaining tribe mates so I hope things stay good ❤️

Aye so we've won another challenge after the swap yay! it's almost as if my shitty luck was detrimental during luck based challenges. wh would've thought...

Now we won even though Mo didn't submit and his time was more than the rest of the tribe combined lol but it's ok cause we won anyways, albeit David got a bit pissy about it and Mo told me about it but eh hopefully it's nothing.

Talking about david I decided not to sit around all day even if we're not going to tribal. Since I'm lucky to stay in the same camp I was before the swap I might as well try and find that damn idol if it hasn't been found already. So I decided to coordinate idol guesses with him and Felix which payed out because when we won the reward today he shared it with me (or at least a part of it unless he's lying) and he made a chat with me and felix so I guess now we're in an alliance, so there's that.

As for the other tribes well I hope Tobi can pull something out of the bag and not die this week, maybe he can get madison who has been pretty lackluster at challenges but either way I'm not gonna be holding my breath.

so today Rhys n I made an alliance with Tobi so that's a thing... and then later in the day we ended up losing immunity -___- which is ass because someone literally striked and got 45mins for a puzzle we still lost jalfkdjf like wig ok! I hope this alliance sticks but idk i gotta see what the waters feel like tomorrow... thank rihanna i have an idol it makes me feel like i have some security in this game hehe

Do you hear that? The birds are singing, the sky is blue and the sun is bright because YA BOI FINALLY WON IMMUNITY. Ugh I love winning immunity I’d scream if I had to go back there it’s ugly

Okay. So here is the tea. We lost.

I have an alliance between me Ryan and tobi. So fingers crossed that’s all good, and Madisin should be an easy boot.

However, I feel uneasy as when I woke up I had no messages from anyone on my tribe about tribal. Which is scary as I thought people would’ve been trying to push for w certain person making sure it wasn’t them. Apparently not, or maybe it’s me?. I know I’m a paranoid mess but I’m like 40% worried.

Okay this is post swap and this is a kind of sort of bad, I was swapped into a tribe were I believe I am only member of my og tribe, but we seem compontent at challenges (at least the rest of them do). Plus one person (Ahrre) I kind of sorta know so hopefully I can make something work and get past this.

Lewis quitting sucked since I actually knew him from an alias game a long time ago.

Let me know if you need a longer confessional.

youtube

hmm Madison is definitely the obvious choice to vote out from Sweyn rn... she's exuded the bare minimum of activity and i dont think we've had a genuine conversation in pm's or at all thus far; plus she did the worst in the challenge. I know from Scott that Jones got close with Madison on og Sweyn so that is something on my mind, but I think she would be ok letting her go ultimately; not too sure but I'm talking to her now so we'll see. If our tribe loses again it's gonna be ugly because i would hate to vote Jones out, she's a queen

Hey guys, its me... Hannah Baker. We had a tribe swap last round and I was shook at it being 3-2 with me being in a minority technically if we’re talking number wise. But, Scott said something interesting to me, saying that he thinks its funny that I would go home over Michael which is kind of reassuring. We lost the challenge and Linus decided to quit and I was like ok mood??? We won the challenge after thank god and I won’t be going to yet another fucking tribal. I really like Michael and Scott and I think if we were to lose again, we could vote out Malik. I’m hoping I can make the merge here but I guess we’ll see. Xoxo

god.. pls vote out madison u fucking fucks LMAOAOAOAOOA. liek im good terms with everyone on that tribe so its rly ugly that theyre going to tribal.. but uhm. hopefully its madison that goes bc i dont want to talk to her or wes at merge loll

like i can be social. dont get me wrong.. but like i cant do it with awkward unsocial people.. communication is a two way street after all

Madison is voted out 4-1.

#episode #royallyyours

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