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insufferable-talkstuck · 7 months

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hey callie (if that's your name), i hope you don't mind me submitting an entire essay of sorts so that you could, you know, classpect me. i've seen the stuff you've been posting here on this blog of yours, and i can't help but like it. so uhhh, let the trauma dumping begin, i guess? i'll try not to take this too far, so i'll give you something more palatable to read. if i do, feel free to call me out for it like you did over mentions of politics that other people did.

so...how would i describe myself as a person?

dude, i wish you had a format like a list of questions or something. is this dumb for me to complain about because by being this open-ended, you're giving other people the choice to say what they want to, with those choices ultimately providing a subtle kind of information that may or may not make your readings/analyses more accurate? probably. am i going to complain about it anyway? well, i just did, even though i'm not usually one to actively complain. that translates to absolutely, by the way. all this text is just a transcript for my thoughts while writing this. no wonder this has gotten out of hand so quickly. but look on the bright side: there's more for you to analyse. fuck yeah to that. :)

back to the question: one thing i can say about myself is that i go on tangents and can get sidetracked easily (see the above paragraph for explicit proof). i'm also a very secretive person, especially in regards to my problems and my inner world. when it comes to that, i can't help but feel like i understand them better than how the external world works. to compensate for this lack of understanding, i tend to, figuratively speaking, wear different hats depending on the situation. usually, im quiet and lay low as i keep an eye on what goes on around me, which i attempt to grasp by myself. other times, i do the exact opposite when i feel like i'm supposed to, mostly in attempts to get others to like me. i'm either too much or too little for the people around me to deal with. hell, i guess i could say i'm wearing a different hat right now through the way i'm typing in this ask, and that's mostly because i'm that fucking terrified of being able to be identified via typing style alone even if i'm anonymous. a person's gotta cover their tracks while admitting personal shit, you know?

so to cope with the fact that i find it hard to make friends due to all this, i've gotten used to isolating myself and being self-reliant, to the point where i straight up pretend to be stoic, cold, and boring to talk to out of well, a lot of things. these things include how i'm constantly terrified of social interaction, i'm afraid of hurting other people through whatever shitty choices and words i decide to make or say, and i can't help but feel worthless all the goddamn time. it even goes to the point where i tell myself that i should be so proud to be so "independent and badass" as a motivator to keep getting away with this despite having this deep, contradictory craving to have meaningful interpersonal relationships in my life, which i tell myself is stupid and that any attempts i make at it are bound to be a waste of time and effort to avoid dealing with it all together. and i suppose that also makes me a hypocrite by default. that's a big yikes on my part.

i also guess that according to some people i used to know, there's a side of me that can be best described as sassy, blunt, with a disposition of innocence and sunshine. i mean, i'm probably being incredibly sassy while typing this all out, aren't i? (which is intentional) if you find it hilarious (like some of my friends did), then i'm glad to hear that the interspersed shenanigans i've been pulling as i prose on endlessly about my flaws have made someone laugh. however, i don't fully buy my sunny, pure disposition as part of who i am as i can't help but feel that only developed as a way to avoid conflict, especially by preventing any sign of my problems and stress from leaking into the day-to-day conversations i had with them at the time. however, there were occasions where both my positive and/or negative emotions got so overwhelming to deal with that i accidentally snapped in front of them. even though i try to prevent those kinds of occasions from happening at all, i regret every single time i lose my composure like that without meaning to due to how i felt rejected every time i did that. and well, in my eyes, rejection scares the everloving shit out of me as well.

i've also been described as a "robot" and a "cryptid" on previous occasions and well, i don't entirely know how to feel about those kinds of descriptors. but i'm not complaining about it because being any of those things sounds badass to me when trying to be positive about it.

so yeah, i'd say that im a person that's damn good at usually playing the role of a stone-cold, sassy hardass with nothing interesting to offer beyond that while wishing it were the truth.

and well, i feel like i've talked enough about myself to feel the need to not mention anything else, so that's where i'll end this. like, i'm usually private about my interests, especially the ones i'm the most emotionally invested im (which can go to the point where I lie about them out of embarassment) and my aspriations in life are something along the lines of "i want to do all this cool shit, but i realistically don't have the energy for all that and worrying about what other people need from me is more important anyway."

hope you got something out of all of this. it was nice for me to type it out, even if all i did was talk about myself. but that's the point, right? and hopefully, i don't regret saying any of this. sorry if this was a long one to read, i hope that doesn't bother you too much.

Witch of heart

my name is Calliope, on this blog, nicknames are appreciated tho i find them sweet.

ah hem, you must excuse me, i am a little rusty, for i have not classpected in a while. But i "tried" my "best" here so take it however you will

you managed to talk about yourself while also avoiding talking about yourself. people majorly view themselves as.. a collection of titles, a community they're members in, interests, morals and their overall attitude twords the world. but you only talked about personality, which is certainly a rare case. No music or art that you're into? do you sit infront of a mirror all day and pass your time on..... self reflection ? you did say your interests are private so, maybe they're too private for even the classpect blog to know. how sad

i assigned you a witch of heart because, you're certainly a steriotypical heart player, from the way you're speaking. i do think I could manage assigning you a blood player with more information... perhaps hit my inbox again soon.

i struggled a bit for the class but then it was obvious, you change heart, you manipulate it to your given situation you put on a... hat. ( why did you say a hat of all things? )

✷ sometimes i add in a little bonus when the answer is too short, my guilt is practically eating me alive for responding with such a short classpecting sesh to such a big ask, but you did use a whole bunch of words to talk about nothing so, not exactly in my pay range to fix my reply, I will say i think you're the first person I don't think I could find a moon for, you could go either side but not in the sollux way, just in the: I think it took you way too long to wake up way

#homestuck #classpect #classpects #classpect assignment #homestuck classpects #witch of heart #<— blood player if anon talks again

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

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PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 5

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Revenge is sweet but a well-timed dick joke is sweeter. xoxo gossip girl. Please supervise one Bucky Barnes on the internet. Questionable music taste. Detention is the price we pay for justice. Bruce Banner is too precious for this world, too pure.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! 🎶🎵I love you biiitch ain't ever gonna stop loving you biiitch 🎵🎶

"Initiate phase one," I added a growly undertone to my whisper, holding my phone inconspicuously, as if I was making a simple phone call. There was no answer but I didn't expect one: I was testing the voice recorder app that I had downloaded for the sole purpose of documenting and relaying the inevitable fall of one Flash Thompson.

Making my way through the crowd of students during the busiest time of the day, I made the most intrigued and outraged facial expression I possibly could. Spying my targets, I leaned against a nearby wall, putting a hand over my mouth in fake outrage, keeping my eyes wide and trained on the opposite wall. Just as I had predicted, the two sophomore girls started giving me side-eye by minute two of my staring and finally approached me as I contemplated the wall for whole five minutes.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" The brunette asked, her blonde friend hanging a step back.

"Yeah, totally," I mumbled. "I'm, like, shook beyond imagination, but nothing, like, bad."

The girls traded a curious look, seemingly coming to some sort of conclusion. The greedy gleam in their eyes had me internally cheering. "What happened?" The blonde one asked, coming closer.

"I'm not sure if I should tell that to anyone," I stammered, watching them bodily move forward. "Well, okay, I can't keep quiet. But you must never, ever speak of it or I'll get expelled or something," I said nervously. They both nodded so rapidly it reminded me of Funko Pop figurines. "You know the senior guy, Flash? Brown hair, kinda hot?" Again, they both nodded, conspicuously grinning. "I think I just saw him in the closed girls bathroom on the third floor with, like, some brunette from Ms. Johnson's History class," They both gasped. Predictable. "But that's not the worst! They were like, y'know," I made an obscene gesture with my hand and they instantly covered their own mouths with their palms in shock. "And the chick was like 'is it in yet?' and he was like 'yah' and I just closed the door and ran, oh my god I hope they didn't hear me," I squealed at the end, playing the part of a mortified teenager.

All three of us giggled uncomfortably for a moment. The blonde girl stared at me suspiciously. "And what were you doing there?"

I faked a nervous stammer, looking around briefly and showing them my lighter for a moment. They both gasped and nodded in recognition. "Don't tell anybody or my mom is going to have kittens," I pleaded. Both of them nodded solemnly, noticing their own group of friends approach. I used the brief moment to get lost in the river of pupils and by the time they turned around to introduce me, I was already at the opposite part of the hallway.

For the time being, everything seemed peaceful. There were a few giggles and side-eyes directed towards Flash Thompson but nothing out of the ordinary. He was disliked by most of the student population even if nobody dared to admit it outright. I took care to walk around without my earbuds for the day and pulled out my phone to record the most interesting conversations around me whenever I caught the tell tale signs of a gossip mill beginning to run its course around the school.

"Oh my god, I heard about this girl that was caught fucking Flash in the girls bathroom and she literally said 'is it in yet', can you imagine the shock, jeez!"

"Some chick literally just rejected Flash because his dick was too small."

"Rebecca from AP chemistry told me someone saw Flash's micropenis. Poor guy!"

"I wonder if his girlfriend dumped him because he can't do shit, I mean, he doesn't look like the type to eat the kitty."

Those were just the highlights of the Friday afternoon. Come the weekend and the news of Flash's unfortunate condition will make the rounds through every single group chat that the school has and by the time Monday rolls around, nobody will have a clue who started the rumour in the first place. I had to carefully select the girls who were to distribute the rumour and I was happy with the outcome: Marissa and Layla with their squad of chatty, bored rich girls were the perfect choice. I thought they would jump at any opportunity to cause drama and I was right.

It was sufficient to say I was bristling with pride as I cut and compiled the audio track from today's school day before sending it to the group chat.

Clint, Peter and Natasha appeared online as soon as the message delivered and I was delighted at their response. Romanoff's kind words, specifically, made me all warm and mushy inside. I didn't resist the feeling, basked in it even as I did a happy dance around my room. Peter's nonsensical string of emojis was another point of laughter for me.

It wasn't exactly the smartest way to go about killing Thompson's reputation... Alas, simplicity is the way to success when it comes to large crowds of teenagers. That tiny little vindictive part of me was very much looking forward to the weekend and the results of the inevitable distortion of the rumour I had started. Who knew, maybe by Monday Flash Thompson would not only have a micropenis but horns and hooves as well.

Near bedtime, I had all the avengers send me their regards and thumbs up. I answered the flurry of texts as quickly as I could but there was no point in keeping up with ten or so people constantly streaming their questions, opinions and comments.

I settled on a single easiest response: pulling my dad's old uni sweatshirt over my tiny lacy pajamas to preserve some modesty, I settled in front of my mirror, turning on my Bluetooth speaker to play "Boss Ass Bitch". In true gen-z fashion, I put on my best resting witch face and solemnly lip-synced to the song's eponymous chorus. My eyeliner was sharp enough to cut paper and my prismatic highlighter glittered enigmatically in the cold light of my blue lava lamp.

The response was, once again, delightful and I genuinely belly-laughed at the adults' attempts to meme after Peter. His blushy face emoji started a whole nother conversation that I didn't participate in but watched from the sidelines with glee, snorting every time his friends and mentors gently teased him about the very obvious crush he harboured on me.

Seeing Peter starting to go absolutely nuts, I interjected with an offer (more like a dare) of a lip sync battle. He jumped on the bandwagon, immediately going offline to undoubtedly film an epic video of what I thought would be dorky-dancing to some hipster song. I was pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be a pre-recorded tik tok video of him and Ned fighting with lightsabers while mouthing the words to Fergalicious that played over the Imperial March.

Weirdos. I still followed him on the app, though, it was pretty funny.

Bucky interjected with a very well executed rendition of "Bring Me to Life": he was wearing his full Winter Soldier get-up, complete with an AK-47, dramatically serenading Steve who looked seventeen shades of done with his partner's antics. Wanda's following twenty second voice message consisted of nothing but pure hysterical laughter, summing up everyone's reaction to the video. Bucky was going to go viral one of these days...

Obviously, I had good competition and nobody else seemed to want to participate so I rearranged my surroundings a little bit and stood up at my full height and swapped the old sweatshirt for a cute crop-top hoodie. My thigh-highs were on display and with my make-up, I looked like a proper internet e-girl. I leaned against the mirror as I mouthed along to the song with my best interpretation of the famous Lucifer smirk, seasoned with a tiny bit of angelic innocence: "Doctor, doctor, give me the news, I got a bad case of loving you..."

Needless to say, I won the competition. Eventually Wanda joined in, looking menacing and ominous with her dark clothes and Natasha's red hair flashing somewhere in the background; even Tony did a round (AC/DC as his soundtrack of course) with one of his Iron Man suits but nothing beat my stunt and the reaction that it caused.

I had accidentally called out Bruce with the choice of my song and his teammates gave both of us a lot of cheeky comments about it. We relented and flirted with each other a bit as the conversation flowed into more mundane discussion; I said my good nights somewhere between Tony's bitching about the hobbies of my generation and my nightly skincare routine. The little green heart that I'd become accustomed to over the past few weeks greeted me just as I was about to lock my phone.

Bruce was really too precious for this world. My crush on him was different than the one on Tony, it mellowed out in comparison. I wanted him to hold me, to stroke my hair, to call me his darling and wrap me up in one of those dorky button-ups that he insisted on wearing in spite of Tony's unwanted, however very valid, fashion advice.

For all that's worth, the scientist probably knew or at least suspected and had the good grace to play along just enough to satisfy my deep need for attention... Without crossing any actual lines. It was frustrating, it was disappointing but I had virtually nothing to complain about. Besides, I didn't want to lose the quirky friendship that we had. Banner was, probably, the least judgemental person I knew and I wasn't about to trade that for an awkwardly stolen kiss.

Monday and Tuesday passed in a flurry of giggling and snorting every time Flash walked by. His girlfriend broke up with him, very publicly, accusing him of cheating and he didn't even deny it - just insulted her and stormed off, leaving even his friends looking lost and clueless. I started dragging Peter and his two pet nerds along with me just about everywhere I went in case Thompson decided to do something stupid again. If judging only by the looks he was throwing our little company, he was on his way to figuring out who began nibbling at his reputation.

The week was coming to an end and the rumour began dying off, slowly. That just didn't sit with me, I wanted the fucker gone. Due to the obvious time constraints, I approached MJ regarding Peter - after a brief argument, we came to an agreement regarding Peter's safety should I need to leave him alone in the hallways or at lunch.

I needed to do this alone so if I got caught, I won't drag them down with me. Granted, I would probably get something like a suspension and the school will attempt to call my mother (she never picks up) but that's about it. That's where her reputation comes in handy-people consciously avoid dealing with her, she can be that unbearable.

But first, I needed to get a teacher that's on my side. After carefully considering the candidates, I settled on my Social Studies professor - he taught the college-level classes and was overall a very chill, nice dude. And he disliked bullies with a flaming passion. So it didn't take me long to work him into a righteous fury - just a quick chat over a cup of tea in his homeroom and a few pictures of Peter's bruised face, complete with my own pleading puppy eyes. We agreed Mr Davies would "accidentally" leave the teacher's lounge unlocked during third period and I would sneak in. The plan wasn't foolproof but if it worked, not only Flash, but also his whole misogynistic, bigoted family would go down.

As I was leaving, Mr Davies looked up at me with a bright smile: "Give them Hell, alright?" And I suddenly noticed he was, in fact, very attractive. The smile brought out the fine wrinkles around his mouth, the crow's feet around his eyes - he smiled a lot. Silver strands mixed in with the wooden brown of his hair.

I let my eyes slide over him briefly before baring my teeth in return. "I owe you one," I don't know what possessed me to say that. My mouth really had a mind of its own sometimes. The room suddenly became hot.

"Sure," He replied, totally oblivious.

On Friday, I made myself a small nest in the empty classroom opposite the teacher's lounge and sat waiting for the signal from Mr Davies - he'd tap on the door once and I'd quietly go inside the teacher's lounge, retrieve Thompson's file and make my way back to the empty classroom to grab my backpack and carry the file to my locker for further examination.

The first part went successfully and I managed to snag Thompson's file. It was heavy and hefty, all the evidence of his rowdiness compiled into one flimsy plastic folder. There were A LOT of pink slips and I rejoiced internally: at least there was a paper trail of his exploits. The principal didn't do anything about it which was... If not against the rules then at least frowned upon; the plan was to take copies and anonymously submit them to the school board prompting at least an investigation into the blatant disregard for Flash's immoral and illegal behaviour.

On my way back I stumbled upon the principal herself which got me not only a stern talking to, but a whole detention for skipping class. Whatever, I was too elated from potentially ruining the life of a dumb fuck who ruined my friend's face.

Surprise came in the face of Mr Davies, who, having heard the commotion in the hallway, stepped out of his class and saw me being lectured by the principal.

"I'll take her for the detention," I heard the familiar voice behind me. The principal nodded solemnly and I had no choice but to sigh in resignation. "Three thirty, be here," He nodded to me, walking back, looking way too smug for his own good. So I wasn't the only one excited about the successful completion of stage two of my nefarious plan. Cue evil laughter.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #bun writes #party favours #author doesn't advocate for small dick jokes but tbh the abusive fucker deserves it

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annaphoenix1994 · 3 years

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Horseshoe Overlook - Paying a Social Call

Four days went by as the coarse ropes dug sores into her wrists and ankles. She was still wearing the dress that she had changed into before her father was killed. She was only offered water early in the morning and food late in the evening. Her stomach constantly rattled, telling her brain that she was on the brink of starving as well as fatigue. She felt utterly weak and severely dehydrated. She leaned her head back as she felt another wave of nausea hit her, wondering if death would be a better option.

"What's wrong? Ya hungry?" She heard Colm mock as he sat in one of the chairs at the small table, counting heaps of money.

"Not too bad," She croaked, not wanting to give up her fight.

"Good, 'cause ya got a few more days," He smirked.

"Before what? You kill me? I can't wait." She rolled her eyes.

"No, before we turn ya in." He replied.

"I'm countin' the hours." She replied, looking up at the ceiling, wishing that those days would never come.

"Boss, you sure this is a good spot?" One of his men asked as he walked into the cabin, looking down at Minnie before giving her a sharp kick to the hip, rattling her wave of nausea once more.

Colm's brows rose as he put down the money he was counting, "We ain't been shot up yet, have we?" He snarled. "Besides, looks like her pa had some money stashed away in the chest there. Looks to be a few thousand." He chuckled, purposely fanning the money in front of Minnie, showing her that it was in fact the money she would gift to her father every time she came to visit, realizing that he never deposited it as it was stolen money.

She frowned as she remembered the thought before her hazel eyes stared daggers into Colm's, "That don't bother me." She taunted.

He pursed his lips as he didn't like being mocked by the only woman he wanted most. He thought twice about killing her himself after he had his way with her, but something about her emerald hazel eyes and her flushed complexion made him rise and he couldn't think of her feeling cold.

"What're we doin' with her?" One of his men asked.

"Few more days and I'll have you and Tom take her to Saint Denis and turn her in for the bounty. That money will be enough to get us outta this dump and somewhere nice. Sell her horse, too." Colm suggested as he finished counting the money before storing some of it in the brick of the chimney, keeping it hidden.

"And you?"

"I'm gonna finish countin' this money here and have a few of my guys follow me back to our other hideout to stash it. A place like this is likely to catch like a torch. Can't have all of it goin' to waste." Colm explained.

"Alright, boss. I'll keep a lookout while you're away," The old man said. Minnie looked at him disgusted as his thin brown hair and thick mustache coaxed his face. His brown eyes had the look of hatred in them as he did his best to be at the top of the pack, earning a special place in the O'Driscoll gang.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Arthur stretched as he awoke with the morning sun, embracing the cool spring air as it was his ideal temperature. He walked to the fresh pot of stew, spooning his bowl full before getting a tin of coffee, wondering what he was going to do throughout the day. He looked around to see what members were missing as they all had a few side quests and activities to do, seeing that every member, except Trelawny, was not present.

"Mister Morgan," He heard a familiar voice say, meeting him at the table he was eating at, taking a seat next to him.

"Yes, Miss Grimshaw?" He asked.

"Mister Matthews gave me a message for you, he said when it was convenient to head into Emerald Ranch. He's lookin' at a few business things there." Susan explained.

"Okay." Arthur nodded.

Susan chuckled, "He'll find something, too, he always does."

"That he does." Arthur chuckled.

"Well, you be well, Mister Morgan," She smiled.

"I'm always well, Miss Grimshaw." He assured as he put his daily token of gratitude within the camp funds box. With his tin of coffee, he made his rounds throughout the camp, smirking at Kieran Duffy still tied to the tree since they arrived in Horseshoe Overlook. 'He's damn lucky we picked out a tree with shade,' Arthur thought to himself as he walked up to the young man.

"Please, talk to them for me!" Kieran begged.

"You got some speakin' to do of your own... About that old gang of yours." Arthur taunted.

"I said... I told you... I don't know nothing!"

"That's what I thought."

"Woah! Hold your horses there," Dutch intervened as he was accompanied by Bill, walking quickly to the situation, afraid that Arthur was going to start beating the man. "It seems the cat has got our friend here's tongue. I was thinking Mister Williamson could have a word."

"You ready to talk boy?" Bill taunted, puffing his chest.

"I told you, Mister... I told all of you. I don't know nothing, okay? They-They ain't no friends of mine. I just been ridden with them for a while." Kieran explained.

"Horseshit!" Bill hissed, clenching his fists. "You see, we heard that part, so why don't you tell the truth? Dutch, what do you want me to do?" He asked.

"Hurt him so the next time he opens his mouth, it is to tell us what is going on!" Dutch commanded. "Ah, who am I kiddin'? One of O'Driscoll's boys couldn't open his mouth but he'd tell a lie. Screw it, let's just have some fun, huh? Geld him." He said, using his fingers to mimic a scissor to Bill, seeing that he was eager to do the deed.

"Oh yeah!" Bill replied, quickly breaking away to retrieve the tongs from the fire.

"What's he doing? Where's he going?" Kieran asked before Dutch pulled down the young man's pants, exposing him.

"Oh don't worry! They're only balls, boy! Just gonna cause you trouble!" Dutch warned. "You know, in Imperial Rome, eunuchs was among the happiest and most loyal of courtiers." He explained.

"No, no, no, no... You're kidding me right?" Kieran panted, his legs shaking as Bill was coming closer with the hot tongs.

"Of course." Dutch replied.

"You sick bastards! What do you want from me?" Kieran cried, trying his best to keep his legs pressed together.

"Well, you are going to talk. The only question is now or after we got these little fellers off?" Dutch explained.

"Okay! Okay! Listen, I know where O'Driscoll's holed up and you're right, he don't like you any more than you like him. He's supposedly at Six Point Cabin! He's been talkin' about it for months. I'll take you there... Serious," Kieran panted. His eyes looked around frantically, hoping that the men wouldn't continue their torture antics. He looked over at Arthur briefly as he never said a word while Dutch and Bill were interrogating him, regarding the pale look on his face as if he were worried, but he didn't think much of it. "I don't like him. I mean, I like him even less than I like you, no offense."

"None taken." Dutch replied, fanning off Bill to put away the gelding tongs.

"Okay then, partner," Arthur finally said, taking his knife and cutting Kieran free from the tree. "Why don't you take a few of us up there right now. I got this, Dutch," Arthur nodded, jerking the young man along with him as well as Bill. "Should be fun. Alright you, come on!" Arthur said as he shoved Kieran in front of him as he pulled up his trousers, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Bill and Arthur chuckled along behind him as they walked to their horses, "Let's both hope you ain't tryin' to trick us, O'Driscoll." Arthur warned.

"I ain't no O'Driscoll!" Kieran protested.

"But you sure as shit was," Arthur growled. "John, come on! We got a social call needs makin'! Where we headin'?" He asked as his heart was beating rapidly. Six Point Cabin, the same cabin the old man he met in town told him about. The same cabin that he associated with Minnie Barlow as the old man was in fact her father. 'He better hope she ain't dead,' He hissed to himself, taking out his anger towards the young man, still wondering to himself as to why he felt the need to be so protective over her when they never even officially met.

"Up into the hills behind Valentine, I'll show you." Kieran said.

Arthur groaned as he mounted his horse, "John, you take this little rattlesnake with you... Any nonsense, kill him."

"Sure." John replied, also mounting his horse.

"We're gonna pay your buddies our respects." Arthur mentioned.

"He taking us to Colm?" John asked.

"That's what he says," Arthur grumbled. "Come on."

'Off to rescue a damsel in distress,' Arthur thought to himself as he was hoping this ride to the cabin was quick.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Arthur's heart pounded as they approached the cabin, seeing that it was overrun with O'Driscoll's. He grew angry at what they had done, not even knowing if she or her father was alive or not.

"The cabin's in the clearin' down there," Kieran whispered. "There'll be a bunch of fellers hidin' out there too."

"Are these fellers armed?" Arthur asked.

"Armed. Drunk. Wary of strangers." He replied.

"And Colm O'Driscoll?" Arthur added.

"Oh, he'll be holed up in that cabin. Be passed out, booze blind, likely as not."

"Over there, someone's comin'." Bill warned as he motioned for them all to get down, John doing so by covering Kieran's mouth to keep him from yelling to his former gang.

"So, uh, who's gonna tell him we ain't got nothin' for the pot?" The men heard the strangers say from below the ridge.

"Let me think, the feller that spooked the game I reckon!" The other replied.

"I'm gonna drain it, I-I'll catch up," One of them said, leaning against a tree to relieve himself.

Arthur looked to John and Kieran, "Shh... Come on," He whispered to Bill, sneaking down the ridgeline.

"What're we doin' about the pisser, Morgan? The one by the tree?" Bill asked as they both took out throwing knives from their possession.

"He's yours, Williamson," Arthur directed, watching Bill nod as he easily took out the man before they both moved on to the pair of members waiting on him, also keeping watch on the camp.

"Good work. We movin' on the camp?" They heard John whisper after killing the two guards. "I left our guide up there. He's meek as a little lamb." John chuckled.

"He better be." Arthur growled.

"What about the one on the log?" John whispered.

"Kill him quietly, Marston," Arthur directed. "Get your hands dirty for a change." He teased.

John chuckled as he made his job look easy, hearing a 'Jesus Christ' from Arthur as he witnessed it.

Their stealth killings didn't go unnoticed as they were spotted by a lone guard, triggering the hail of gunfire in the quiet oasis of the wilderness. A few, long minutes later, Arthur finally halted his gunfire, insisting for Bill and John to start searching the bodies. "I'm gonna go search the cabin!" Arthur announced before being shocked at the discovery of Jameson's body hidden in the old wagon just outside the cabin. His heart broke as the old man had so much to live for, yet he wondered if the same happened to his daughter or if she had escaped. As much as he wished to rescue her, his mind immediately thought of the worst. He sighed as he holstered his pistol, walking up the steps to the cabin before being pushed down by the door, greeted by a smirking man and a shotgun barrel in his face.

Arthur accepted his fate as he braced himself for the blast, only to be halted by the man above him being shot. With a confused look, he turned his head to see Kieran shakily holding a pistol, shooting the man and saving Arthur's life.

"You alright?" Kieran asked as he made sure the enemy stopped breathing.

Arthur's breath hitched as he didn't even want to think that an O'Driscoll saved his life, let alone admit it. He lay his head back down, taking a deep breath, "Sure, thank you." He replied sarcastically before groaning to his feet, storming to the young man as he was soon met by Bill and John. "Colm O'Driscoll... He ain't here. You set us up!" He growled. "Come here!" He demanded as the young man slowly approached him with his hands up. Arthur was sure that if he was a dog, his tail would be tucked between his legs while he pissed himself.

"What?" He dared to ask.

"You set us up!" Arthur hissed.

"No, I didn't!" He protested.

"You did, Colm O'Driscoll ain't here!" Arthur argued, aiming his pistol at the young man's head.

"He was here, I swear! I sw- If I was setting you up, I-I wouldn't have saved your life," Kieran pleaded.

"It's a good point, Arthur," Bill intervened, putting himself in between Arthur and Kieran.

"Alright then, go on, get out of here." Arthur addressed.

"Eh?"

"I won't kill ya."

"I didn't set you up,"

"Get lost!" Arthur demanded.

"Get lost?"

Arthur's face wrinkled as he grew angry, grabbing Kieran by the collar, "I'm lettin' you run away now go on, get out of here!"

"That's as good as killing me!" Kieran argued, daring to walk back towards Arthur. "Out there, without you- Colm O'Driscoll's gonna lose his mind about this!" Kieran pointed.

"So?" Arthur scoffed, resting his palm on his hip.

"So I'm one of you now." Kieran addressed, pointing his finger at him.

Arthur sighed, scratching at his beard, "Give me a break. Aright then," He said as he walked closer to Kieran, pointing his finger in his face, "But I'm warning you."

"Oh, I know,"

"Come on, let's get to camp." Arthur directed as his immense heartbreak couldn't dare to handle the sight of a deceased Jameson and Minnie Barlow.

"So you got the cash then?" Kieran asked, stopping Arthur, Bill, and John in their tracks.

"What cash?"

"Yeah, there's usually some cash in the chimney. Colm always talks about it whenever he plans to take over someplace," Kieran said as he attempted to walk towards the house, only to be stopped by Arthur.

"I'll check it! Rest of you boys get to camp, quick."

"See, Arthur, I ain't so bad!" Kieran proposed.

Arthur turned on his heel, "Hey Bill, you tell Dutch old Kieran ain't worth killin' just yet!" The men nodded as they made their way to camp while Arthur was eager to search the cabin for clues of Minnie Barlow, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by the woman herself, tied up harshly to the cot post with her head tilted back. His jaw dropped as he assumed her to be dead by her pale complexion. He lost all moisture in his mouth as he was still shocked. He hesitated to take a step towards her, even though he didn't think she had any life in her. 'Jesus,' He thought to himself, feeling that it was wrong to search the cabin, feeling like he was robbing her.

He slowly moved around the cabin, the two photos on the hearth catching his attention. He grinned as he looked at the photo of Jameson and his wife on their wedding day before looking at the photo of Minnie as an infant. "Minnie Anna Barlow," He said to himself before putting the photo back on the mantle before turning back to look at her still in the same position. "Guess I'll bury you and your pa someplace proper," He said quietly, knowing that she wouldn't reply. He took out his knife, cutting the rope from her ankles before locating the rope tying her wrists together, finding that there was no rope binding her. As he realized what was happening, the cold feeling of a revolver's barrel was pressed against his exposed chest. 'Smart woman,' He thought, his blue eyes meeting her hazel eyes once more. His breath hitched as she was the most beautiful woman he had seen in quite a while, which was a long while. He didn't want to admit that no matter how beautiful she was, she scared him.

"I don't think so, cowboy," She hissed. She recognized his eyes immediately, but she didn't know what he was capable of and why he was there. In a way, she was grateful that he was, even in the unfortunate circumstances that were about to unfold.

"Woah, easy," He pleaded, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Then why are you here?" She questioned, slowly standing to her feet.

"It's a long story," He sighed, shaking his head, hiding his embarrassment by the brim of his hat.

"What? You one of those O'Driscoll's comin' to finish me off?"

"No, we just killed all them O'Driscoll's, Miss," He tried to explain. "I-I met a man named Jameson in Valentine a few days back and he invited me up here to go huntin'. Well, a couple of weeks ago, we picked up a straggler that ran with Colm and were plannin' to use him as bait. We threatened to torture him if he didn't talk and he said that he knew Colm was plannin' to hide out here and I immediately thought of Jameson," He explained, his hands still up in surrender.

Minnie sighed, lowering her weapon, "Jameson is my father. Colm killed him. He was plannin' to turn me in for the bounty. I don't have much to live for anymore, just take me in." She frowned. As much as Arthur would've liked to have eight-thousand dollars, he couldn't bring himself to take her in, especially in such a fragile state. He could tell she was on the brink of personal famine as well as dehydration. "Do you want me to take you in?" He asked.

She nodded as she refused to look him in the eyes, ashamed of herself. He frowned too before daring to step closer to her, "You know what I'll have to do." He stated.

"I don't care what you have to do. Those men tossed me around like a ragdoll and I couldn't fight back. They starved me and tried to take advantage of me, only to beat me harder when I fought back. Please, Mister, swinging by the neck is far better than this pain I'm in now," She frowned, holding her wrists together, waiting for him to tie them together.

There was no way he was turning her in, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He looked down at the sores on her wrists before looking back at her delicate face, "Do you have any more weapons on you?" He said quietly.

She shook her head, dropping the pistol on the floor.

"Turn around," He said even softer, hating himself for even having to talk this way to a woman, especially one he was minorly attracted to, but he shook that thought from his head as he had to treat her just like every other bounty. He had no idea what she was capable of.

She nodded as she did as he asked, turning her back to him, hoping that he was just going to shoot her, but he didn't. She started to sob quietly as she felt his calloused hands gently grip her wrists, gently tying them back together, trying ever-so desperately to not cause more pain to her.

"Thank you for bein' so cooperative, Miss," He said as he started to guide her towards the front door. He was relieved that she didn't respond as the sound of her voice alone made his skin flush. "You have a horse?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, tied up over there," She replied, her eyes fixated on the ground below. "C-Can I see my father?" She asked. His breathing hitched as he didn't know what to say. "I...Erm, I don't know where he is..."

"I do," She frowned, looking at her feet. "They dumped him over there - didn't even bury him," He nodded as his reply, simply following her to where she saw the O'Driscoll's dump her father's body. He stood back to give her privacy, but couldn't help the burn in his chest as he heard her sob after collapsing to her knees. After a few moments, he slowly approached her, seeing that Jameson's body had already started decaying. If he wouldn't have known Jameson by his mustache and clothing, he would've looked like a stranger. "Miss... W-We need to go. The law probably heard all of those gunshots..."

"Then leave me here. They'll come for me." She cried as he helped her to her feet, noting that she was weak.

"I can't do that, Miss."

"Why not? Have other plans for me?" She snapped. He understood that she did it because she was scared and no longer valued herself, feeling like she had given up.

"No, that's not it. C'mon, let's go," He said quietly, untethering her horse from the tree he had been tied to. "Do you have any belongings you wanna take with you?"

She bit her lip, "His banjo and the money I had left for him. I'll burn it before I let the O'Driscoll's get the rest of it... And some of my clothes."

"Okay, I can help you, but we gotta hurry up and get outta here," He warned.

"This I know," She replied. He nodded as he cut her loose, keeping the pistol he had taken from her in his off-hand holster, afraid that she was going to try to rob him. He helped her grab her essentials from the cabin, especially the two photos that were on the mantle that he remembered. He helped her put her extra clothes in a burlap sack, wrapping the two photo frames in a pillowcase to protect them before putting them in the sack too. She grabbed her father's banjo as Arthur slung the burlap sack over his shoulder, ushering her out the door of the cabin, hearing a few weeps coming from her pale lips as he couldn't understand how hard it was for her to leave her home, especially knowing that her father was still there. "You think you're okay to ride your horse?"

"H-Honestly, no. I don't have enough energy." She panted.

He nodded before turning around and picking her up to place her on his horse before tethering her horse to his own, putting her belongings on the saddle, tethering them with the provided saddle strings. He couldn't explain why he did so, but he had figured it was because he was selfish and craving a woman's attention, even if it wasn't intentional. His action didn't make much sense, but he didn't care. 'At least I asked her,' He thought.

"Alright, let's get you back to camp," He said.

"Camp? I-I thought you were takin' me in for the bounty?" She questioned, confused.

"You thought a lot of things, Miss. Remember when you saved my life on that train?" He questioned as he looked up at her from the ground as he was about to mount his horse.

"Yeah?" She questioned, holding brief eye contact with "the man in blue" as he had verified his identity with her as they have in fact met before.

"Let me save yours."

#rdr2 #reddeadredemption2 #arthur morgan #arthurmorgan #minniebarlow

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alannahaisling · 3 years

Text

The day I slipped into a Panic and anxiety attack.

This, this is going to be long winded.

I'm just going to come out and say it. No, I don't want sympathy. This is just me using this particular blog for what it was meant for. A space for me to vent, to be my authentic self. To reflect, to just let things spill out from my mind through my fingers and onto the screen on which you may be reading this.

First things first. The Icons I'll be using here are not rp muns, they are simply my emotions on display. My IRL self as displayed by characters I adore from the Teen Titans fandom.

Ooookay lets get down it.

I help moderate a stream, have been doing it for a while. I became fast friends with the streamer and pull long hours. Roughly 4-5 hours per stream, unless I have class the next day.

To my knowledge, nobody ever had an issue with me. Save the odd person here or there, that may have disagreed with me, but at least they would tell me to my face, and I would shrug it off and move on. It was as simple as that.

My friend, who I love to death, has on more than one occasion had to reassure me that I was actually doing a good job. I lost count how many times I asked if I needed to improve, or if there were any rough areas that may need to change.

A good chunk of the time, they would just kinda raise their voice, and be like. "Damnit, you're good. You're fine." and then try to cheer me up with silly cat pictures. My ultimate kryptonite.

This friend of mine has worked with me for a few years now, talking about deep heavy personal stuff. They know I am medically diagnosed with ptsd, social anxiety, and have been dealing with depression for years. So they're not a stranger to my triggers and I love them for respecting when I need to just be alone, or only want some quality time one on one for a few hours. You hear that you knucklehead? Yeah you, I know you at least read this shit.

Moving on.

On friday, we had a.. bad night of it. Not even an hour in, after happily gathering folks who wanted to play the chosen game with us that night, someone. Who I will call 2P, dumped a huge paragraph, attacking my character and personality as a mod, in my friends private discord DMS.

2P for months, had been telling me to my face, that they saw me as a best friend, that anything I ever said and or did would be safe to do. You know the whole, you can trust me bit. I blindly trusted, and hind sight maybe I shouldn't have.

Meanwhile the entire time, I apparently had been talked about behind my back, negatively for a while? I don't know.

So we paused the stream, and go into another server that's locked down to a limited set of people and discuss it. Friend is, PISSED, but is trying to not yell, and asks me what we should do about it.

In my head I'm just reeling. I'm asking my friend, if I'm a bad mod, if I've fucked up somewhere, I'm totally confused. I can't concentrate, and there's this choking hurt in my chest. One I know all too well.

The feeling of dread. The feeling that I messed up, that I'm useless, and a fraud.

My friend is trying hard to make sure I'm okay, by this point they know, this has fucked with my head. In a huge way. 17- going on 18 years of therapy suddenly going down the drain, spiralling out of control.

They Cut the stream short.

I'm exhausted, tired, feeling beaten. I just say a few things to 2P and leave their discord server, kick them from my private one, and from the one I made for my streamer friend for the game we play with other people. In addition, also a possible person who may cause me issues, because 2P's probably been shit talking me for a few months now.

Friend is arguing on my behalf, another mutual and their friend, instantly demands to get in call. We'll call them... Uh.. Fuck, Tataru , and Estinien for sake of ease. Tataru is having none of it, they are witnessing my typed anxieties. They are hearing our mutual friend, trying very hard to not just *yell*.

2P is dropping the nasty paragraph in other dms now, belonging to other regulars. It's escalating pretty fast. I am now a villain, and a victim in one role, and 2P is also playing the role of victim because my dearest friend just told 2P Off.

"2P, isn't getting it!" My friend is saying with a calm anger. "2P is just constantly going on and on about how (my name) is bad for the stream." Or something to that effect. "They don't even fucking realize how fucking hurtful they are being."

"You need to stop responding." Tataru is saying. "Just, tell the mother fucker, NO and block 2P on everything."

I guess 2P is quickly realizing that they are losing the fight, so they come into my dms. Shit forgot to block them there. I think in my head, and I see them trying to bring the argument to me. They tell me, that I'm handling the situation all wrong.

I don't even respond. I'm tired. I'm just done. I'm mentally slipping back to the days I was mentally and emotionally abused, and gaslit.

GASLIT.

GASLIT!

I block 2P. For my mental health.

Estinien with their calming voice, is outlining streamer etiquette rules. 2P is definitely out of line, as a viewer. If we want, Estinien can pretty much hit up a wider streamer network, and have the name of 2P blacklisted from other communities.

By this point, another regular is talking to my friend asking what is going on. Then another. Slowly, I read through logs my friend has dumped into the 4 person private call.

Then I see it.

"I'll just lie through my teeth to her about why I'm leaving or something. Just don't tell (My name) I said any of this. " In regards to the in game guild My friend and I Co Run.

Silently mutter to myself. Not that the others can hear me, my headsets broken. "Ah, the other shoe has dropped. 2P's been lying to me the whole time. I've been gaslit all over again. No wonder I feel like I do."

Estinien and Tataru get sleepy and go to bed. My friend stays up as long as they can as I sort my head out, trying to timeline events. I'm given logs, screen shots. 2P's been blocked. I lock down my twitter for a day. I lose 20 hours sleep.

I spent those 20 hours of no sleep, asking and apologizing to regulars if 2P has ever talked to them about me. Most of them say NO, and reassure me I'm a good mod, that I make the stream warm, fun, welcoming and comfortable for all kinds of people.

A good friend of mine, who I will ironically call Angellica, because we call each other sis, and I view myself as Eliza from Hamilton. Once had told me to be careful with 2P from the start, because they had a bad vibe about them, is PISSED off, and yeets them out of an in game group chat. "Fuck em, 2P's a troll."

I realize, that Angellica literally stood by and chose my happiness. Cause yeah, I thought 2P was someone I could trust. After what happened though, I realized that I had been mistaken and apologized, To Angellica.

Now 2P is going around seeing who still will consider them friends, or are neutral parties. I was made aware of this because one of them, a mature friend actually asked me what 2P was going on about. So I gave them the run down. They were disgusted with 2P's behavior.

Now a days, 2P takes screen shots of anybody on twitter, that has blocked them and smears their names.

2P still doesn't get it.

But I'm moving on from it.

I have screenshots and logs. But I don't ever plan on releasing them publicly.

So yeah, 2P if you ever come across this, and figure out I'm talking about you, I severed ties with you, because friends don't lie to each other, Friends don't talk behind each others backs, they don't force other good close friends to sit on the *truth* of how you feel. Friends can disagree, and can have different opinions.

But You burned your bridges yourself.

I've always had a three strike ruleset.

One: You lied to my face multiple times.

Two: You pretended to be my friend.

Three: You actively gaslit me, and my friend.

Sooo THAT'S why I cut ties with you. Your behavior after that was just you playing the victim, and none of us 30 plus year olds were just going to sit by and let you have your 20 something year old tantrum.

I bare you no ill will, and I doubt any of us are going to even blast you in an open space like twitter releasing the logs or screen shots. I'm just noping out of this parasocial relationship because that's all it was. I refuse to be used, as a way for people to get close to and use my friend as they work on their passions and goals.

Adieu 2P , nothing was lost the day I walked away, except all the work my friend did to get me out of my isolated shell. But you know what? They'll just pull me back out, and support me 100% You'll never break us up.

#Mental health #STORY TIME

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