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hsfan94 · 2 years

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Sweet Nothing

Harry had a rough few weeks. He hardly had a break between his LA shows and the South American leg. Then, after the second show of the leg fans crowded his car. He appreciated the support and the enthusiasm but he’s quite claustrophobic and anytime he gets surrounded by people, it gets a little hard to breathe. On top of the go-go-go and the mild mobbing, people wouldn’t stop asking about his breakup.

He hadn’t been with Olivia for a few months and if it was up to him he wouldn’t have even made an official announcement, but she insisted they put it on record. He wasn’t sad or anything because he had been in love with Y/n for a long time and he decided he didn’t want to be with anyone that wasn’t her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be asked about it or see stuff online about it. Sometimes it just felt like everyone wanted something from him.

Harry had met Y/n around the time One Direction went on hiatus. She knew who he was but desperately tried to pretend she didn’t. She was an up and coming actress and she told him that if it was her, that she “wouldn’t want to be treated any differently just cause she was in some movies”. Y/n never expected anything of him. She just wanted a friend and that’s what she got. Y/n wasn’t in the same level of fame as Harry by a long shot. He thought the world of her but she was very selective with her parts and had yet to become a household name. She never had to experience the things he did, such as often being treated like a zoo animal, but she always tried to understand and cheer him up.

Presently, Y/n was staying at his home in North London, as she was shooting a movie in the UK. Harry couldn’t wait to see her. He drove up to the house ready to go inside and go right to sleep. But when he walked through the door, he was met with the most mouth watering scent and sweet little hums of his songs from his sweet little best friend.

He walked into the kitchen and there she was, cooking and humming away. He walked right up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Harry! You scared me!” She jumped a bit but remained in his hold.

“What’s all this, Angel? I thought you were just sleeping here?” He settled his chin on her shoulder and nuzzled his cheek against hers.

“I had an inkling that you wouldn’t eat if there wasn’t someone here to feed you.” She stirred the pan one more time then turned in his hold. “‘Sides I had nothing else to do and I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh yeah? What about?” He pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “And thank you. You were right. I was just going to go to bed.”

“I heard about your breakup and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she said.

His heart melted. She was too sweet.

“I’m okay. Thank you.”

She didn’t drop it though.

“Are you sure? You were with her for a while and I want to make sure you’ve had time to process alone. Without the media’s opinions, y’a know?”

He ran his hands down her arms until he got to hers. He gathered them in his and brought them up to his lips.

“I’m fine. You know why?"

"Why?"

"I broke up with her." He paused. "I’ll be honest I was feeling a little down the last few weeks because I was overwhelmed. But I’m better now that I’m here. Wanna know why?”

She nodded for him to continue.

“Because I came home to you.”

She was lost, he could see it on her face. She carried on the conversation.

"Well, I'm glad I can help." She turned back around and continued her humming.

Harry just rested his chin on her shoulder deciding not to push his feelings on her tonight.

"Harry?" He hummed and she continued. "Why did you break up with her?"

"I decided I didn't want to be with someone I didn't love."

She paused her movements.

"You didn't love her?" Her head turned to look at him and she was so close he could feel her breathe.

"No."

"Then why were you with her for so long?"

It wasn't judgemental. She was purely curious about it.

"I kept thinking I might get over the feelings I have for someone else. That I might fall in love with her if I gave it enough time but here we are."

"So... You love someone else?"

He nodded.

"Hmmm." She turned back to the stove. "Well, are you going to be with them now?"

"Hopefully. I just don't know how they feel."

"Well, anyone would be stupid not to love you." She leaned her weight into him a bit more.

He was astounded that she seemed to have no clue he meant her.

"Angel?" He said after a moment.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Are you stupid?"

"Oi! What the hell does that mean?" She whipped around, a look of offence on her face.

He chuckled.

"You just said anyone would be stupid not to love me. So, are you stupid?"

She smiled at him.

"No. I'm the most clever of them all." She turned back around.

God she was clueless, he thought.

"So, you love me?"

"H, I tell you I love you all the time, how could you not know?"

He groaned, she didn't get it.

"Never mind."

He detached himself from her and went upstairs to change. How did she not understand he was talking about her?

He stumbled into his room and there on his pillow was a welcome home card. He picked it up to see it was hand made. She was too sweet. He opened his dresser to pull out something to sleep in and he found a T-shirt she had got him for Christmas in 2019.

"Open mine now!" Y/n shoved a bag into his lap.

They were gathered in a circle on his living room floor. Their small group of friends (Jeff, Glenne, Mitch, Sarah, Tom and Jenny), had decided to do a small Christmas party with each other to celebrate his album coming out.

"Okay, okay." He laughed at her excitement.

He slowly took the tissue paper out and pulled out the T-shirt she had stuffed inside. When he opened it up fully, he laughed so hard he nearly peed.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it. Now you open mine." He handed her a small box wrapped in Frozen paper, just because she loves that movie.

Watching her unwrap it carefully so it didn't tear was torture. When she had the paper off and opened the box she was rendered speechless.

"Harry, it's beautiful."

It was a ring that had both of their birthstones and initials on it. She got up from her spot and straddled his lap hugging him tightly.

"I love it. Thank you."

That had been his favourite Christmas to date.

He slipped the shirt on, wearing only it and his underwear and headed back downstairs.

In the kitchen, she was finishing up putting their food on plates. She stopped her movements when she saw him come in wearing the shirt.

"Why are you wearing that?" She laughed.

"Because," he pointed to the words on it, "Y/n is my best friend in the whole world and I love her more than anything."

"I know that's not true, but thanks for humouring me." She was laughing as she walked to the table with their plates.

"It absolutely is true. That's why I put it on." His face was serious now. He was done letting her deflect her importance to him.

"More than anything? Really? More than tequila? Wine? Vintage cars? Touring?"

He felt she had more she wanted to put out there but he stopped her by coming over and draping his arms over her shoulders.

"Yes. More than all those things."

"Why?"

"Because. You're the one person who doesn't want anything from me. You make me feel so normal. And I love all that other stuff but it doesn't give me that feeling."

"I still don't know if I believe you but I'll take it." She giggled but he wasn't pleased.

"I mean it. Coming home after a stressful month where everyone wants something from me, wants me to be doing more, and you're just here cooking me dinner, because you want to take care of me. How could I not just be head over heals in love with you." He hadn't wanted to confess tonight but she was so frustrating.

"What...did...did you just say?" He mouth was parted in shock.

"I'm so in love with you. I'm sorry to just dump it on you but...god I just..."

She cut off his mumbling by pouncing on him. She wrapped her whole body around him, her legs around his waist and arms around his neck, and peppered kisses all over his face.

"I love you too."

"Really?" He looked at her, not believing it just yet.

"Really. I can't believe you didn't know. I thought it was so obvious. Especially when I asked to stay with you. You remember I have a place in London right?"

"No. I thought you sold it and that was why you were always staying here."

"Nope. Just want to be around you as much as possible."

She kissed his mouth this time.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Coming home to you in the kitchen humming and getting sweet kisses? Hell yes." He was smiling so big but he couldn't help it.

"Good. Me too." She looked down at his shirt. "Think I need to get a new one made for this Christmas. I have a new title now."

"Sounds like a great idea to me." He kissed her once more and then said, "Come on, let's eat."

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles best friend #harry styles #one direction #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry's house album #sweet nothing

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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 3 months

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"Of course, the weather and the issues about all the logistics from the very first night of her concert weren't Taylor's fault."

Sorry, no diss, but I cannot agree. She's a massive star, plans worldwide tour many months in advance and decides it's a good idea to do South American leg during the time when Southern Hemisphere is in the summer? Yeah, sure, no way to say for 100%, if it's gonna be a heatwave specifically at the date of the gig, but looking at average temperatures in that region at that time chances are damn high.

And in case of miscalculation on weather, she absolutely could have said that she's not gonna play unless people can bring in their own water or give out water bottles to everyone by entances out of her own pocket, because she can afford it. She's a damn billionare with incredibile pull, her PR brags about her upping economy wherever she goes, companies and stadiums definitely would bend to her will if she had asked. But she didn't.

I've also heard about vents being blocked, so people in the parking lot, who didn't pay for the tickets, couldn't listen to whatever would able to pass those vents.

Also Swift not adressing this tragedy almost at all, her blocking tribute that fans prepared for Ana on the next concert during usual short break by suddenly not taking it and rushing to next stage, and the fact, that a lot of people outside of South America, even Swifties, still reacts to this situation with astonishment, because news about it never reached them, suggests that Swift's PR was actively squashing them.

If Travis Scott is partially responsible for Astroworld Festival disaster, then so is Taylor Swift for the concert in Rio de Janeiro.

Yeah- no disagreement here. I didn't say that Taylor Swift wasn't responsible for her death. She is absolutely partially responsible. I meant as much, when I said that she could have postponed the event due to the heat wave.

I'd also have to agree with you- I do not understand why she chose to host a massive event like a stadium show during the summer months.

Everyone on Earth is aware of climate change, especially Taylor Swift who is the subject of much scrutiny to how her own private jet use is affecting the Earth, so we all know that the heatwaves are getting more intense.

Honestly, I don't understand why she needed to go south during their summer months. Personally, I think she wanted to be in North America for our summer months- because she enjoys being in North America more than she likes South America.

The other option would have been to spread out the Eras Tour dates even more- so she could go to the Southern Hemisphere during their winter, and still be able to be in North America for our summer the year after or something. However, I think she didn't want to spread out the tour dates- and would prefer to not have North American dates occurring in our winter, which means having to go to Brazil during their summer months.

It's confusing to write out but remember that the

summer months of North America are roughly: May to August/September.

and the winter months of Brazil are roughly: June to September.

It overlaps- thus the need for her to choose who to prioritize, and thus she ended up doing Southern Hemisphere dates in their summer (Nov.- Feb).

I also think she just wanted to stay in the USA for the summer (because she's a USAmerica-centric person who wanted a cut of the summer-vacation revenue in the USA).

#anti taylor swift #ex swiftie #taylor swift critical #anti swifties #brazil concert #rio de janeiro

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george-weasleys-girl · 1 year

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North Star Series

Chapter 36 ‐ Hello, Lovely

Summary: George and Y/N go owl shopping

Warnings: Bit of innuendo at the end

Start Here:

Errol tumbled through the open window into the living room, skidding across the coffee table. Y/N scooped him up in her arms and took him into the kitchen for a little treat.

"Poor thing," she said. "Your parents really should consider retiring him. Let him spend his golden years chilling on his perch and being spoiled rotten."

"Yeah, mum and dad have had him forever," George agreed. "You know, the holidays are right around the corner," he added thoughtfully while he removed the message from the owl's leg. "Maybe we could surprise them with an early Christmas gift."

"How would your mom feel about that?"

George shrugged. "I think she'd be fine with it. And we could maybe adopt Errol so she doesn't have to worry about taking care of two owls."

Y/N looked back down at Errol, who was happily gnawing on a piece of bacon. "Love the idea," she smiled, leaning over to look at the message. "What does the note say?"

"Family dinner on Tuesday night."

Y/N simply nodded. She knew this wasn't a cordial invite to a quiet family gathering. Family dinners at the Burrow were usually relegated to the weekends. Gatherings on weeknights meant one thing and one thing only, Order of the Phoenix business.

"I think I'll apparate over with Errol to let mum know we got the message. Give the poor fellow a break," George gazed down the elderly owl. "Wanna join us?"

Y/N thought for a moment. "I think I'll pass this time." Having already changed into her loungewear, she didn't want to get dressed again. "I'm pretty tired tonight, and I don't really feel like going out again."

"No worries, love," he leaned down for a quick kiss. "I won't be long."

~•~

Eeylops Owl Emporium was one of the few shops that remained open for business on the north side of Diagon Alley. "Our selection is pretty thin," the manager, Mr. Turbit explained. "With everything going on, we thought it best to keep our inventory low."

In case we have to close.

He didn't speak the last bit aloud. But he didn't he need to. Every few days, another shop shuttered it doors. It was only a matter of time until the joke shop was the only place open. George and Fred had vowed to keep it going until the bitter end.

"We're keeping them back here for safety reasons," Mr. Turbit said as he led them to the rear of the store. "Got a couple of barn owls and several brown and grey ones. Sold our last snowy owl yester - ."

The bell on the door jingled, and they all turned to see another customer coming in. "If you'll excuse me," the proprietor said before hurrying away.

George and Y/N turned back to the owls. "Do you think they'd want to stick with a grey one, like Errol?" Y/N asked.

"Dad won't care, but mum's a creature of habit. Grey would be best, I think."

Y/N nodded and turned her gaze to the grey owls to her right, while George scoped out the left.

"Well, hello lovely," George cooed a few minutes later. Y/N looked over to see a little brown owl perched on his arm.

"Who's this little one?" Y/N asked, giving the owl some head scratches.

"Don't know. She just hopped up on my arm." George smiled at his new feathered friend.

"Have you taken a look at her eyes? They seem...different," Y/N leaned in closer. "Bring her into the light."

They both gasped the moment the late afternoon sun hit her eyes. "They look like galaxies," George marveled.

"Almost like the Milky Way," Y/N's awestruck voice was barely above a whisper.

"That one there's been with us the longest," a voice said. The couple turned back to find the manager standing behind them. "She's completely blind. That's why she keeps getting passed over. But it doesn't seem to hinder her too much. Had her deliver a couple of messages for me, and she did fine."

~•~

A half hour later, Y/N and George emerged from the Emporium with a stoic grey owl sitting tall and proud in his cage, and Nyx, the little blind owl, perched on George's shoulder.

"I think she has a crush on you," Y/N observed.

"No surprise there," George gave his girlfriend a cheeky grin. "Have you taken a look at me lately?"

Y/N stopped, looking him up and down. "Meh. You're alright, I guess."

"That's not what you were saying last night," he said with a wink.

Y/N's mouth fell open, her entire face glowing a bright vermillion. "George!"

George laughed. He couldn't help it. She was just so damned adorable, all red-faced and flustered.

Y/N slapped his arm, trying to hold back her own laughter. "You're so mean to me," she teased. "All the time. Just mean, mean, mean."

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. "But, you love me anyway," he grinned down at her.

"Lucky for you I do," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

~•~

He leaned down, giving her a gentle, lingering kiss. "And don't I know it."

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #north star series

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traipseartist · 2 months

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July 4th - 7th - Yokum's Right of Seneca Rocks, West Virginia

I claim to be a Rock Climber™ but the majority of my experience is actually clinging to plastic rocks inside of blissfully air-conditioned warehouses in the part of town that's definitely getting gentrified.

I discovered I liked to climb at a time in my life when I was desperate to find something athletic that didn't make me want to walk into the sea. My body image after high school was in shambles and I developed a certain hatred for treadmills and ellipticals--symbols of punishment for over-indulgence or a demand I adhere to some kind of standard that I never really could buy all the way into. Needless to say, exercise was always a means to an end. If I could have put my brain in a jar and made my legs run the necessary number of miles to make me a size 0, I would have. Gleefully. Surely athleticism was mastering the ability to fully disconnect your body from your brain? Who wanted to be present for the heaving and the sweating and the oh-god-oh-god-this-is-how-I-die feeling that hangs in the balance?

Then I had a long-distance boyfriend who fell headlong into the sport and in my soft loneliness, I connected to him via chalk-coated climbing facilities. We would chatter on the phone about climbing problems, the world of outdoor climbing, competitions, characters at our respective gyms. When his life drifted away from mine, I stayed close to the wall. I felt not just the urge to be stronger and solve more difficult problems, but the desire to start speaking my body's language instead of pulling out the duct tape every time I needed to push through something that felt physically hard.

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

So, yes yes, a beautiful back story. An illustrative origin that does nothing to explain why I'm clenching a stubborn half-sapling between my thighs and trying to keep all of my pistachio shells in my hat as I dangle my ankles thousands of feet above the valley floor in Seneca Rocks, West Virginia.

My partner Vincent and I are out with the Explorer's Club of Pittsburgh (some 20+ riotous humans with a distaste for a particular kind of self-preservation) on this fine holiday weekend when we agree to do something relatively stupid and exactly what we came for. We want to stand on the top of the biggest piece of exposed Tuscarora Quartz in the north east and shake in our boots while doing it even though we're mostly little indoor-monkey gym-rats.

Seneca Rocks, West Virginia is not like other climbing destinations. Some crags, especially those on the west coast that attract climbers from around the world, have their own sprawling ecosystems born of their touristic revenue. Joshua Tree has the strangest assortment of desert-proof fast-food establishments. Yosemite and the Sonora Pass have many of the trappings of a mountain get away: Adorable high streets in small boom towns scattered throughout the region, themed restaurants, condos and vacation homes stacked high and wide for visitors and returning locals alike. Something (wineries and theme parks and tucked away spas) for the person who has no desire to really disconnect from society, thank you very much.

Seneca Rocks, West Virginia has:

Yokum's Vacationland - a truly grandiose title for a double-wide cabin that feels like a themed gas station with a root-beer stand tacked on the back and some motel rooms up top. All the same, totally beloved.

Harper's Old Country Store - honestly, much cuter than Yokum's but probably less trafficked unless Yokum's runs out of ice or chocolate milk

Princess Snowbird's Indian Village & Campgrounds - not touching this one. It's been here for a second. It has RV hook-ups and could not be more American in nature.

The Gendarme - your local spot for outdoor guides, good advice, and the climbing gear you forgot.

There are campgrounds (Seneca Shadows) up the hill from Yokum's, and a little science center filled with dusty art-deco furniture across the way. All of this within the cast shade of the mountain you came for, and that is that.

The end.

Yet, despite the almost video game-esque limited nature of this local map, Seneca Rocks is obviously its own ticking entity. There are people who live here. The pepperoni rolls for sale in color coded zip-block bags (RED - Pepperoni and Mozzarella, BLUE - Mozzarella only, GREEN - EXTRA Pepperoni and Mozzarella) deposited in big wicker baskets by the cash register at Yokum's are made by a woman named Betsy. The local guides that cart litters of injured recreationalists down from the mountain are no NPCs.

So when you're teetering on routes with names like "Muscle Beach" and "Ecstasy Jr." that drape the mountain high above our tiny valley below, it's hard to feel that same uncaring maw of the great wilderness that I've felt so many times before when I've been playing with my own safety for fun and un-profit far from the sympathy of other humans.

Still, when a rope strains on a carefully placed nut in the crevices of Whorl's Thicket or you see some cotton slings tangled in the branches of a marooned tree under Traffic Jam, you are reminded that your survival--that any human's survival on this little quartz dinosaur spike--is purely by permission and tolerance only. There is no conquering here; there is only playing on the shoulders of a giant. It's reckless, even though it is surely allowed and time-tested.

I learned very quickly that the people I was climbing amongst, however, did not always have a passion for the reckless nature that is the hobby. Some of them had the exact opposite problem with their bodies and their minds that I found I had. They did not wish to separate their mind from their body so that they could push through the soul-crushing boredom of exerting physical labor without feeling much reward or time passing. Instead, they wished to sever the connection so that they could overcome the crippling fear of hanging on the edge, of being too frightened to progress--something I enjoy playing with, fiercely.

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

At the summit of Seneca, there is a small metal lockbox the size you'd see keep cash in a concession stand on the perimeter of a high school Softball field. This box is full of notes, little plastic figurines, found treasure, a cow bell, a whistle. Well wishes, banal little messages for those behind or in front that may find themselves up here soon and again.

At base camp, there is a loose huddle of chairs around a dimming campfire and the air of survival from something we chose. Another day on the rock, another meal to remember the day we didn't fall off of it. Someone mentions a plaque affixed to a large boulder along the path up to the crag, seen just before the turn off to a torturous route upward to some other famous trad classics named "Stairmaster." It's a commemoration to a woman who was part of the Explorer's Club of Pittsburgh. She stepped backwards off of a steep step-around route on the mountain and fell to her death a week before her wedding in the early 2000s.

Someone says they wish they hadn't named her specifically on the plaque--it made the club look careless. Untrained.

There is a long pause before someone else says that her fiance wanted to bury her in her wedding dress. I put my mind back into my body, and my body back into my tent, and I am thankful to sleep on a solid, flat surface yet again.

#travel #seneca #climbing

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moeitsu · 4 months

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This shit-post is dedicated to my weird ass friends and the most out of pocket things they've said that I've written in the quote book I've kept in my notes since 2019. Enjoy:

The mayonnaise did wonders for my hair. -P

The Holy Spirit does not want to suck your balls. -E

That's the scariest thing about Halloween...young women. -N

You can put long pasta in there! -E You mean spaghetti? -M

I don't know what blood type I am, is there an app for that? -G

You already said you wouldn't eat my ass -E

What's your major? -K Oh, I'm American. -G

I'm gonna shit in that trash can. -G

Are we about to exchange insurance cards? -J

I'm pretty sure I don't wanna warm my pussy by the fire. -M

Ugh, I don't wanna be a femboy! -M

If you're so worried about the angles then just stick your fingers in the hole. -M

I wish I could be off the grid. -M Like homeless people? -E

Who needs bleach when you have discharge. -J

Why are there panties in your hat? -G

I think I'm mentally disabled. -M No, you're just mentally ill. -E

It could be a deer with down syndrome. -D

I remember when the only app they had was angry birds. -J

Now that's the kind of guy who should be reproducing. -J

Cute rhymes with stupid. -N

No arms, no legs, not even living. But watches porn. -R

Sweaty balls doesn't sound very appetizing. -T

You're starting to look like a real girl again. -N

I always poop in other people's houses. It's how I establish dominance. -T

No sir, I am from Boston. All I know is drink coffee and cuss. -M

The gas station bathroom was treacherous. Pretty sure I saw blood on the walls. -C

If it doesn't cure you, it'll kill you! -Z

Bone dry dunes? That's where you go when you run out of cum. -E

I live by the thee S's: serve, slay, survive. -G

I will not participate in the ass licking. -E

You white people always have cool ancestors. My ancestors were slaves. -S My ancestors were responsible for that. -G

That gives me a free pass to call you a bitch. I'll take it. -N

Would anyone wanna buy my wick-less candles? Shameless plug I know. -K

C'mere, come into my womb. -G

I like your dads meat. -E

Our family funds the entire therapy on the north shore. -B

You can't be this smart w/o massive mental health problems. -B

She doesn't like gay people? -M Nope, she's up in the air about black people too. -P

We're back to our regularly scheduled racism. -R

That's abortion money, not pedicure money. -K

I'm gonna give you a disability if you don't stop. -M

I can always fuck up chicken. Especially the breast. -N

Nice parking job Alabama. Was your sister giving you head while you were driving? -N

I don't think calories are real. I've never seen one. -M

Do you even know what man boobs are? -E It's literally in the name. -M

Can't men flick their nipples off? -E

Well, 5 out of 6 of us were born with a full spine. -E

What's the point of having a gf if you can't objectify her? -N

Mother fucker we don't own straws. We broke as shit. -N

You're like a lollipop triple dipped in psycho flavor. -P

What are you just not gonna feed your kid so you can afford to go to Disney? -A

Do you think she's trans? Like she was a dude and now she's a guy? -N You mean she was a dude and now she's a girl? -M

The boogeyman wants to suck you're toes. -M He would never, he's asexual. -P

We need a new toilet. -P This is American made! This is a quality toilet! -A

There's no one as Irish as Barack Obama. -N

She called me autistic! -P Well, it couldn't hurt to get tested. -A

The shirt says 'wicked strong' -M It should say 'wicked annoying' -N

What bitch is blowing up your phone? -M Literally your Dad. -N

I'm a white girl, of course I love cheese. -S

Why do bad things keep happening to me? Don't they know who I am! -N

It's because I feel safe here. -M Well, maybe you shouldn't. -N

The real magic happens when you embrace the delusion. -K

Oh look, the Trump tower! What if it just blows up? -R

I'm gonna be honest, I didn't finish the Bible. It's on my DNF shelf. Adam and Eve? I need enemies to lovers. -B

A woman bit me, I'm gonna become a prostitute. No! -S

Technically, I'm bisexual. -M You're too old for labels. -G

#shitpost #quote book #out of context quotes #out of pocket #random #friends #humans are weird

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achtung-attitude · 1 year

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2012. The world’s end was abruptly halted, with no one understanding how or why it had even begun. All-Kill witnessed it alongside everyone else, as time became strange. The sun itself streaked through the sky at alarming speed. Brushing shoulders with oblivion brought clarity to All-Kill. There was something he had to do, something he never dreamed of doing as a boy, but now he was a man of means. There was one last mission.

With the world returned to normal, he took his chance, forgoing his usual caution. It was a journey he had to make alone. Returning by secret channels to his homeland of North Korea.

Up there in the mountains, he made a new acquaintance. A wolf with a Stand, which to his surprise, was intent on following him. As perplexed as he was, he was charmed by the animal.

“너 그냥 연인이 아니니? (Well, aren’t you just a sweetheart?)” he said, patting the wild beast between his ears. He whined in affirmation. Despite himself, All-Kill found he was looking forward to returning to LA and telling Sang-ok and T’onga about his strange new companion.

But upon reaching his destination, his good humor faded. The man and wolf found themselves on a certain plateau. There, pressed up against the mountainside, was a rickety old cottage. A traditional Korean hanok. It was falling apart. All-Kill sensed it beyond doubt. This was the place.

At the front door, All-Kill bid the wolf to remain outside, and he complied. The red eyes watched the human enter the worn down shack.

The walls had been knocked down inside, leaving only a single room, making the small space seem cavernous. What furniture there was old and covered in filth. No-one had cleaned this place in some time. At the window facing the mountain view, there sat an old man in a wheelchair. He had one arm and one leg, and was dressed in faded Northern military garb. He didn’t stir, staring out of the window.

“Pardon me,” All-Kill said, making his presence known.

The old soldier snapped from his daze and turned from the window, rolling his eyes towards All-Kill. His face was set in a bitter scowl, and he didn't say a word.

“I don’t expect you to remember me,” the younger man said, “it was a very long time ago. Allow me to make it clear.” Stepping closer to the dismembered soldier, he explained, “In 1966, you lost your arm and leg while in pursuit of a defenseless family attempting to escape across the border. While firing upon them, you stepped on a landmine, resulting in the loss of your limbs.”

The soldier stared.

“That family was, as you know, apprehended by the South Korean forces, and in exchange for no further escalation, the parents were sent back North, leaving the child behind.”

All-Kill’s shoes creaked on the old floorboards.

“You were the one to identify them. Because of you, that child was separated from his parents.”

He stood directly in front of the crippled soldier, staring down at him. “I never saw them again. It’s been 45 years. I don’t even know their names. Only the one they gave me. Because of you. And now that I am here, I am going to kill you. Have you anything to say before I do?”

The old soldier’s eyes flickered down, glancing at his visitor’s shoes. When he looked back up, there was no fear in his eyes. No plea for his life to be spared. His dry lips opened. In a raspy voice he said, “당신은 미국인처럼 말합니다. (You talk like an American.)”

BLACK KEYS appeared in All-Kill’s hand. He grabbed the old soldier by the collar, pulling him out of the wheelchair and plunged his Stand into his chest. A brief look of surprise came over the soldier’s face, and then he died, slumping against his killer.

All-Kill began breathing heavily, the corpse’s dead weight against him. After a moment, he shoved the body off him, letting it drop to the ground. As he stared at the limp form, his lips quivered.

Outside, the wolf jolts, startled by the sound of the front door bursting open. All-Kill had kicked it open, both hands preoccupied with dragging the soldier’s body by the arm over the stony ground. A panicked look plastered across his face, shuffling desperately to the edge of the plateau.

With a mighty swing, All-Kill hurled the corpse over the edge. The body flew a couple of meters before dropping and tumbling against the cliffside. All-Kill didn’t watch it descend. His whole body shook, until he could no longer contain himself.

“RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!”

He screamed until his voice gave out, his anguish echoing across the mountain. He had been a young boy once, but those days were over. Everything he had was taken from him before he even knew he had it. His home, his family, his country. He had nothing. He was no one. The old soldier made him see the truth,and since that day, it had left him hollow. Never since did he feel intense emotion, neither fear nor anger. Not until they came for him. Those women, whose efforts to take his life returned him to that time on the plateau…

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #achtung attitude #all-kill #yeon in #ch76

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livikattt · 2 years

Text

rereading hall of shame (and easter eggs)

"the" damwon guild (skull emoji)

scout "resets" on the rift. i'm 99% sure that was supposed to be "rests". haha funny reset joke though

"Even if the sensors somehow missed it, I would have." this kind of works in context but it sounds fucking goofy

"I hated the idea of being like Viper, screaming myself awake every night." but he doesnt,,,,,,,,, he doesnt sleep at,,,,,,,,,, [look. i hadn't figured out Viper's Deal back then.]

"even Viper has a tear trailing down his cheek" dude... viper rly was supposed to be this stoic ass motherfucker wasn't he... and now he just has Trauma lmfao crazy how the world works

"Scout does the math on his fingers. “I think that checks out.”" DUDE THATS LIKE 10 APHELIOSES (wait actually i think this was an intentional reference bc i did the calculation on how much of an aphelios that was)

keria picks up guma's call with his words slurred from sleep or something but then he later says he was still awake?? cant tell if this is a consistency thing

“It’s telling me that 2022 is our year,” no,,,,, no it is not,,,,,

noctum is not black. it's silvery blue. thank u aryasage for finding my clownery as usual. listen,,, it's a METAPHOR GUYS,,,,, YEAH,,, PLANNED

"I dropped out of high school, so give me a break." so did faker jojo you ain't special

"“Holy fuck,” Razork says the second he finishes. Danny’s heart skips a beat as he waits for him to finish. The jungler runs his hand through his hair again. “That’s exactly what I was thinking of.”" there's an alternate scene where he says "that's exactly not what i was thinking of" or something, the more u know

Humanoid's TF ult cooldown will become a bit of an aneurysm causer for me later down the line.

I was gonna do regional differences (with koreans saying "void wastes" and north americans saying "void wilds") but I forgot about that so

in giafbot, there's a line where the only thing on it is the letter i and a quotation mark. and a period. i hate it.

I."

"his body wreathed in shadows as he flies through the halls" fucking coward say he's flying through the walls

how fast did they get the fucking statues for the tsm memorial? that shit takes time! unless they had them sitting around Just in Case???

when texting guma, oner capitalizes faker's name but not keria's, and that is OUT OF CHARACTER ASF. NO WAY HE CAPITALIZES FAKER

grounded guma is allowed to have zeus as a chaperone. imagine asking someone younger than you to chaperone you just to get food

guma: hates damwon for losing msi and worlds 2-3

also guma: does the same thing [PAIN]

"That was supposed to be me, Gumayusi finally manages to think above the noise." faker has to think this about keria getting skewered too!

"“What were you thinking?” He squawks," u fool. u absolute buffoon. u do not capitalize that h.

btw sboualh's on-crack summary style is incredible i love it (pats own back)

"despite being fired by someone who has a grand total of half an arm" this is projection

"(btw remember when i said it wasn't T1's year?? guma and keria heard me talking shit)" [PAIN]

the fact I did actual MATH to come up with guma's score... couldn't tell you what it was though

...so did I not have a consistent way of indicating people were talking through their communicators? k great I hate it

I fucking forgot that TSM and DIG headquarters are next to each other didn't I

spica and bjergsen were really about to break the summoner's code just to kill neo for disrespecting their bro

why are there weird spaces between italics and stuff I hate that

referring to spica as ming confused the shit out of me because yes that's his name but also like. rng ming exists. my brain nearly exploded on that reread.

the tone shift in chapter 2 of eticmealloyr kills me,,, we're doing this quiet night reflection and then BOOM IMPACT SHATTERING TACTICALS LEG

"But Biofrost spent way too long expecting to be a doctor to not at least learn a bit of healing magic." IS THIS A FUCKING ASIAN UPBRINGING JOKE I CANTTT

spica's interaction with bb is the same as meiko's with viper and im gonna die mad about that

I DID A DOUBLE SPACE NAH

I almost asked why the TSM squad had to walk out to the teleportation circle instead of driving before I remembered spica's tweets as he learned to drive...

spica's beliefs about death are very asian but idk if that makes sense in-universe

I say a whole army of Summoners attends perkz's wedding but i made the guest list and boy was that an exaggeration

...danny should not be fighting rn

DOUBLE PERIOD WHEN CAT MEIKO IS HOLDING ON,,, I HATE THIS TOWN

why the fuck did I hyphenate mid-laner only once

does faker laugh at berserker being humble because he's used to having the cockiest ad carry in the world...

I like how I capitalize JackeyLove's name right but not Showmaker's. It's not happening. I do what I want. For example I capitalize BeryL properly because the man is a massive L

doublelift rly had to be SOOOO VAGUE

....showmaker's R cooldown is even shorter than humanoid's holy shit (then again he's a world champion so it's fine guys haha it's fiiiine)

"What's with this guy and answering questions with more questions." That should be a question mark... unless it's a bad haha funnie about purposefully NOT making it a question???

I'm pretty sure both meiko and spica have questioned viper's pronoun game with the same phrase. haha parallels guys! haha yeah!

when healing deft, keria tells him to stfu like twice in one minute

deokdam inviting viper to the festival sounds... sus.

I had to do it to make it seem serious, but it doesn't change the fact that ale types in complete sentences for the emergency alert

#ppau #ppau writing #ppau other #ppau MALD #ppau fun facts

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foureyes802 · 2 years

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For da ask game: devin townsend 😔

WHY ARE U PENSIVE YOU HAVE BESTOWED UPON ME GREATEST JOY

Favorite Song: hmmm right now it's Moonpeople. but it changes like once every week i swear 2 god. Deadhead is also very good. and Kingdom. i could go on

Least Favorite: of the ones from albums i listen to regularly... the Strapping Young Lad cover of Room 429 simply does not hit it is a skip every time. i just listened to the original version and it was better so that's pretty much on Devin. i also used to dislike Ih-Ah but it grew on me oops

Favorite Album: from albums as a whole i think it's a tie between Ziltoid The Omniscient and Ocean Machine. those fuck severely. Deconstruction and Alien are tied for a close second

Least Favorite: ehh, i can't get into his ambient stuff in general and DevLab is like the ultimate combo of that plus the most ear-bleeding noises of SYL. and then he did the same concept but way better and with lyrics in Deconstruction so i really have no reason to listen to it again. this feels very scathing i'm just super passionate </3

Song That Got Me Into Them: if we're going WAY back, then it was Solar Winds, which got me exclusively into the first Ziltoid album and i didn't listen to anything else of his for like 3 and a half years. flash forward to 2021, and i watched the Kingdom EMG video. but i didn't start fully exploring the catalogue until i also heard Love? last year and it was off to the races from there

Seen Live? THAT'S THE HOPE !! he's on tour in Europe right now and fingers are crossed he does a North American leg soon or for ziltoid 3 or something, but he doesn't like touring at all so a part of me thinks he is not going to do that. i HAVE tuned in for a livestream that was KIND OF a concert but seeing him in person would be so fucking dope i think i'd die.

Rating: is it possible to give an 11 for these

#thank you so much for indulging me on this #foams at the mouth. im so normal about devin townsend #ask games

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beezlebub2024 · 3 months

Text

State of Colorado and Denver Health Issues-my last recourse-triggering issues follow

To the State of Colorado, Denver Health and John Hickenlooper, this is my suicide note.

Since September 2022 I have been to Parker Adventist, North Surburban, Rose Medical, St. Joseph's ER rooms along with one former PCP who refused to treat my condition, UC Health who thought my symptoms were caused by bursitis and an NP who totally ignored my symptoms and demanded I take vitamins.

My symptoms are this

Pain at 11 from my right abdominal side, it spreads to my right shoulder, right arm, right leg, right foot and a burning pain under my right arm pit.

Shortness of breath brought on by spasms in my intestines.

Headache, left side every time the spasms act up.

Diarrhea

Can ANYONE explain how Elizabeth Emphey the ER Doctor from Parker Adventist can diagnose the above symptoms as vertigo without a headscan? During that visit they gave me PET and X ray for chest, not head. Thats what she said I had and charged me $11K for unnecessary tests and a diagnosis that did NOT help with my symptoms. She is still trying to charge me $11K I refuse to pay. I don't care.

Sloans Lake Meredith prescribed amitryptiline and omeprazole. Prazole medications don't work. They don't stop the spasms and in fact it makes it worst. I told her this to stop treating me for GERD. I want a colonoscopy/endoscopy done. I took a test to find out I have H Pylori infection. She also wrote a script for pantoprazole and pylera, an antibiotic.

I was done with the antibiotic two days ago June 23, 2024 and I am still experiencing spasms. On Saturday June 22, 2024 Urgent Care discovered I am now anemic. The primary care visit showed I'm not but while taking the antibiotic I now became anemic.

This hospital system refuses to give me a colonoscopy/endoscopy and because I will no longer have Medicaid at the end of this month, I am figuratively screwed.

It will be 2 years in September since my symptoms have started and I have no recourse to plot my suicide. Even after sending patient advocate at Denver Health and john hickenlooper emails detailing the situation I've been in and how noone has helped me. I don't care if this violates community standards...I'm tired of being blown off because a healthcare provider would rather treat shit that doesn't relate to my symptoms. Healthone NP at Mississippi Rd ignored the symptoms and demanded I just take vitamins while she flirted with my husband in front of ME!

My grandmother died of intestinal issues because the providers didn't catch the problem in time. I know DH and the State of Colorado doesn't want to help a middle aged white woman struggling to live without help from the medical industry. I have complained to CMS, Patient Advocates, lawmakers and noone will help me get the quality healthcare I need. I get canned responses and even Patient Advocates said they can't help me even though their website says this, "

What do patient advocates do?

Help patients understand and invoke their rights by:

Advocating for patient rights and needs;

Protecting confidentiality for patients and their families to ensure compliance with the Health Information Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA); and

Advocating for people with disabilities to ensure compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act.

Ensure that patients are satisfied with their experience at Denver Health by:

Identifying opportunities for improvement;

Identifying innovations to improve the patient experience;

Assisting caregivers in meeting patient needs, expectations and concerns." So why am I planning my own euthanasia if they claim to help patients?

#healthcare #government

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philosophicalkrow · 1 year

Text

Back in my spring semester of sophomore year, when I was still going to North American Mental Health Services for therapy, I got asked one question: "Do you want to get better?"

It seems like an easy question, yes? "Of course I want to get better. Anything but this." Yet back then, this stumped me. Being in the worst slump that I had experienced, I didn't know if I was even going to live long enough to get better. I told him that I didn't know.

The way he explained healing to me was simple to understand. "Right now, you are at the bottom of the sea. It's not great in the slightest, but it's familiar. To go up will make your life better, but there's always a chance you'll sink back down. Do you want to go to the surface? Even with the risk of sinking back in?" Still stumped, I asked my English teacher the same thing the next morning. "Would you stay in a familiar place even though it hurts you?" He said no. We talked about my health after, until the bell rang to start class.

The rest of the year was chaotic. My former therapist referred me to the county for more intensive services, and I became worse during that gap of treatment. June was rough, but I started to heal during July. That is when I learned the one thing that no one told me, not my therapists, not my elders, not my peers. No one told me that Depression never leaves you.

The first day I noticed that I was feeling better was 6/18. I was laying down, and for once, my head was empty. And it was nice. No suicidal urges, no worthlessness, nothing. Little by little, things got better. I ate 3 meals, I felt good enough to brush my teeth and wash my face, I even felt fine going out, even if it was just a cousin's house. I thought that everything was getting better. I thought that it would be the start of a new chapter. I thought that finally, the Prozac and daily therapy was working. Yet I was wrong.

Reality quickly set in. Who was I, without my illness? For so long, I let it reign over my being, puppeteering my body for whatever it needed. Sleeping, cutting, crying, ruminating, rotting. I had no real life outside my mental illness. In those past two years, I was depression. That wasn't the only thing. As the rainy skies cleared from my life, light shone down on the reality of living. I thought that everyone would be happy 24/7, you'd have enough energy to do things all the time, life would be perfect. Yet I found myself still struggling to do things most people could do with ease. Assignments piled up, and burnout was all that was waiting for me under it all. I felt nothing most of the time, finding myself neutral rather than numb. I quickly learned that life was not all it was made up to be. Because why would I want to feel nothing? Better to feel something than this.

It all really came into culmination when summer break ended. I left as a horrible mess who's humanity could be put to question, only to come back as a hastily put together person. People who supported me were happy that I was doing better. Things felt different walking around campus, like the suffocating weight that once encapsulated my being left, the air around me just a little bit more accepting. Yet it still didn't feel right. I was normal. So why? Why did I feel so different? Was it the restrictions still placed on me for safety? The raised scars on my left arm? The concern teachers still had for me? I had no clue.

That was until one day. I was just innocently scrolling through TikTok until I stumbled across one post. "Trying to heal Pt. 5". It talked about how they weren't ok, even in early life. How they hated how they felt, but not being able to do anything. How they have all these horrible habits from their repetitive depressive past that cling to them, like seaweed that wraps around your leg. And something clicked. I will never truly be "cured". Depression will never not be a part of my life. Every single day, every single moment, I am still "depressed". Even if I feel better with meds, with therapy, with support, I will always be different. I will never be able to wash away the past.

So to Aaron, who told me that healing was merely swimming up from the deep end of the ocean, you were wrong. Even if I make it to the surface, the seaweed will still desperately cling around my ankles, and I will always be drenched in the sea water that once held me back. Even if I don't sink back to the bottom of the sea, it will always stick with me. Even if I reach the shore, I will still walk the earth, dripping with my past. Even if I get better, I will never be cured.

#vent #depression #mental health #personal essay #writing #healing #mental health matters #my writing #my thoughts #philosophicalkrow

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sardonic-the-writer · 3 years

Text

cc!Karl x Reader

━"The Circle Of Fate"

━Karl Jacobs

━Tw: Mentions of anxiety and medicine

━Notes: This was originally a story I had written, but I deleted it due to bad writing and quality. I'm posting this to suffice your needs for updates right now. Bear with me here

━Song: "Honey Pie" By JAWNY

(Y/n) anxiously rapped her fingers against her car's stering wheel. The twenty three year old girl felt a bundle of tight nerves coiled intensely in her chest at what was awaiting her.

For some reason, the struggling, just-out-of-college student had decided to partake in a challenge that had been sent to her via email only four days ago. It was the one and only Mr.Beast team asking her to be a part of one random video that they had needed almost over 100 people for, and according to the person sending the email, she had been chosen because she was their 68,000,001 subscriber.

Honestly, when she had first gotten the letter, (Y/n) was convinced that it had been a prank. Especially after seeing that she could win half a million dollars. But after some extensive research that had been made with shaky hands, (Y/n) had discovered that it was in fact Mr.Beast's authentic email.

(Y/n) had ended up pacing in her empty apartment for a couple of hours before doing some calming exercises that her therapist had recommended. The girl made up her mind eventually after getting another email that included her rent payment for the month. Living in Nashville wasn't exactly cheap, so all of that money would definitely help her pay off debt while being able to eat at the same time.

So here she was right now, pulling tentatively into a half full parking lot after a short, sweet seven hour and forty five minute drive to the middle of North Carolina. But she had been in a car for longer, so (Y/n) was unbothered by her sore legs and numb buttcheeks. The young woman was more focused on her nerves that were currently making her head spin.

(Y/n) stretched, giving anyone who wanted too, a good amount of time to take in her figure. She wasn't one of those petite girls you read about in stories. (Y/n) fit the stereotype of an average American girl that made a living by working at Barnes and Nobles. Standing at a healthy height of 5'8 with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, she didn't really stand out from the crowd much. That was, unless you counted her crippling anxiety and low self esteem. (Y/n) was essentially like the internet; normal at first, then extremely depressing and soft/silly at the same time.

"Okay (Y/n). You get in there, find the supposed circle, and sit until you can't take it anymore. Simple. Just don't mess this up." She mumbled while pulling her baggy grey flannel closer to her tense frame. Anybody could tell that she was scared. Her hands were constantly doing something to try and distract her mind from the looming building that awaited her less than a couple meters away.

(Y/n) locked her car- nearly dropping her keys in the process -and began to speed walk to the arena looking area. Why couldn't Mr.Beast have rented a less intimidating looking area for her to rot away in a circle for 500,000 dollars? Like a flower field, or maybe a Walmart for those with allergies. Preferably the ice cream aisle. Yeah, a Walmart would be nice...

After getting inside, she noticed that the air had become warmer from the slightly colder weather outside. The second thing (Y/n) observed was a lie of average looking folks like herself standing in a shortish line, all waiting to be called up next by a few people with clipboards. When another person would step up, they were handed a name tag, sharpie, and one of four colored shirts.

(Y/n) ducked her head down swiftly to take in her attire. Did she overdress? Was a flannel too much? Would she stand out against the sea of red, yellow, green and blue? Or would no bady pay any atte-

"Excuse me, are you here for the video? Or are you just here to look around" A bored sounding voice snapped (Y/n) out of her anxiety ridden trance. Looking up with a grimace, one of the clipboard guys was standing in front of her. He had stinky hair with a bit of grease matting it. Or was that vaseline?

"Er, no. I'm here for the video." She said, keeping it short and simple. Even if she did suffer from panic attacks and extreme apprehension, she could talk to people without stuttering. (Y/n) was not your basic fanfic character.

"Great." Said the guy, making it sound not great at all. He thrusted a blue shirt along with some other things into her hands while writing stuff down on the clipboard.

"Name."

"(Y/n)."

"Age." He clicked his tongue impatiently when she hesitated. Anybody else would have smacked this guy ino next Tuesday by now, but (Y/n) was used to this behavior. She worked in Barnes and Nobles after all, home of dead-inside emos and antisocial bookworms. And the occasional artist, but I digress.

"23." She responded.

"Reason for being here." The guy rolled his eyes like he was already done with this conversation. Which he was. The dude worked for a YouTuber as a living after all.

"Opportunity." (Y/n) didn't want to reveal that she was as broke as hell and here as a last resort. After writing down something quickly, Mr.MonotoneBitch lifted his head to look at her.

"You'll just fit right in then won't you. Changing rooms are over there and good luck I guess." With that, the unwelcoming male walked off to start another line for the eager competitors that had nearly doubled in the amount of time (Y/n) had arrived.

After making her way in and out of the changing rooms, (Y/n) was standing inside the crowded- yet humongous -red circle with her former shirt bundled up awkwardly in her hands. Eventually, she noticed that no one else was holding their shirts with them, causing her to start folding in on herself and scuffing her Jandals against the terse grass below her. It was the small things that worried her most of the time after all, not the possibility of winning half a million dollars.

(Y/n) quietly made her way over to the edge of the red circle to place her shirt along the arena's wall a couple yards away, but was immediately stopped.

"Trying to quit already I see?" A joyous voice asked her. (Y/n) looked up, her left foot a couple of inches away from stepping out of the ring.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were getting out already." The man repeated before (Y/n) realized who it was. The man who had sent her that fateful email three days ago himself was talking to her.

Mr.Beast.

"Uh no sir. Just noticed I wasn't supposed to have this. I think." (Y/n) added that last part quieter than the rest while holding up her scrunched up t-shirt, but he heard it and laughed nonetheless.

"Sir? Well that's a first. But seriously dude, just call me Jimmy. On camera though I like to be referred to as Mr.Beast most of the time."

"Oh. Cool." Was all (Y/n) said while scratching the back of her neck. Jimmy stuffed his hands into his jean pockets without the warm smile leaving his face.

"Not very talkative I see. I'll make sure to keep that in mind when conducting interviews later." He said, easing the mood a little bit. (Y/n) was honestly surprised that nobody had pulled him away for something else yet, to be honest. Wasn't he some important big shot?

To be honest though, (Y/n) would take this guy over Jake Paul anyday. Who said all big time YouTubers had to be bad.

"Yeah I guess." She almost dropped her shirt while shrugging, causing Jimmy to politely hold in his laughter.

"Here, let me get that for you." He reached out and she handed him the shirt, it becoming unrolled in the process. The fabric displayed a small log. (Y/n) would have thought nothing of it if Jimmy had not spoken up.

"Woah, you listen to them? I had no idea! You seem like somebody that would listen to classical music more than hard rock." He said while looking at the label laid out on (Y/n)'s crumpled shirt with a band logo on the front. A small smile formed on her chapped lips as she took in his shining eyes.

"I wouldn't consider Kiss hard rock more so that performance artists, but yeah. I like them." She said while playing with the end of her sleeve. Jimmy's eyes looked back at her with a twinkle. Was this man ever not happy? He just seemed like a big ball of positivity at this point. Maybe that's why 68.1 million people had subscribed to him. We need more nice people in this world.

"Oh! Speaking of music, am I allowed to have this?" (Y/n) scrambled around in her flannel pockets for a second before pulling out two items. A tangled set of earbuds and her outdated phone.

"Only if you can't live without it. Otherwise we'll have to confiscate them." Jimmy jokes.

"Uhm, well it helps calm me down when I have a panic attack sometimes." She added, not even thinking about her words at first. Only after Jimmy's smile slipped a little did (Y/n) realize what she just said.

"Oh. Sorry. Didn't mean to throw a pity party just then." She folded her fingers around each other and avoided eye contact while silently screaming on the inside. Could she have been more obvious in her response?

"Nah, you're fine. Just try not to flaunt it in the other's faces too much, they might try and target you." Ahh, there it was. His sense of humor had returned almost immediately, allowing (Y/n) to breathe peacefully again. She was grateful that he didn't pity her like most would have.

"Thanks Jimmy."

"No prob. Good luck!" And with that, the man sprinted away, setting (Y/n)'s shirt down by a miscellaneous chair before heading somewhere else.

Mentioned girl turned around to be met with the stare of a couple of people. Apparently they had been watching their interaction, making blood rise along the sides of her neck and up to her cheeks.

She shuffled over embarrassedly to a spot away from the huge money pile and sat down with a sigh. Hopefully she could last long enough to get some good food. (Y/n) had heard that during his challenges, Jimmy fed the contestants pretty well.

She sat, mouth watering for a couple of beats while thinking about mac n cheese, before a loud sound interrupted her thoughts. Glancing over at the source of the noise, (Y/n) watched as a woman approached her little patch of grass.

The woman was, to put it very bluntly, black. But beautiful all the same. Her hair was pulled up in a frizzy hairstyle that (Y/n) thought suited her very well, framing the fellow female's face with a rugged yet honest look.

"How's it goin' sugar? You mind if I sit here?" Her honeyed voice cut into (Y/n)'s observations. In the time that the girl had been watching the fair skinned lady, she had ended up making her way towards the silent 23 year old.

"Sure." (Y/n) respond with slight eye contact while scooching over. She lowered herself next to her with a grunt, but let out a content sigh after getting situated.

"Names Akilha sweety. Noticed you lookin a little lonely so I decided to come over. How you doin today?" The sound of her voice made a bit of warmth grow in (Y/n)'s chest. She already trusted this loud extrovert for some unexplainable reason.

"(Y/n)."

"Well I like tha' name! Better than Jimmy." Akilah snorted, making (Y/n) give her a look between amusement and shock.

"I'm just playing honey. No need to get your panties in a twist." She waved a manicured hand with a closed eye smile. (Y/n) grinned the biggest she had all day and turned her body to face Akilah a bit more.

"I like your earrings." (Y/n) started up a bit of small talk. At the mention of her jewelry, Aklilah brought her hand up to touch the mentioned accessories.

"Oh these old hacks? They were the only things that my ex was actually worth for, the whore. Ended up sleeping with a side-chick two weeks into our relationship. But I kept the diamonds, didn't I!" Akilah laughed violently and slapped her knee with the effort of her laughter. (Y/n) laughed along too and scrunched the sides of her eyes up in the process.

"The only thing men are worth for if you ask me." (Y/n) made a soft joke, but Akilah heard it.

"Gurl!" She howled out, doubling the pair's laughter a tenfold. All the while, (Y/n) couldn't help but notice that Akilah helped her feel a little bit more at ease in this strange situation that she'd been introduced to so suddenly.

The two of them continued to chat it up afterwards, filling in the silence for what would have been an otherwise boring hour for (Y/n). Clearly, Akilah was the more talkative of the two by a long mile, but neither one of them cared. Turns out all of those clickbait Buzzfeed articles were right. Introverts and extroverts do go together surprisingly well.

"I DON'T CARE HOW LONG THIS TAKES, WHICH EVER ONE OF YOU LEAVES LAST WINS FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS!" Jimmy's voice ran out among the building. (Y/n) and Akilah stopped their conversation to look up from where the YouTubers voice had come from.

When they spotted him, he was currently half talking to everyone and half talking to a cameraman standing on his right. The both of them were on top of a tall wooden tower that had (Y/n) asking herself how she had not noticed it before. Guess her nerves had distracted her enough.

"Well Hun, looks like the challenge has officially begun." Akilha laid down on the floor and got comfy, looking like she was preparing to not move for a while. (Y/n) furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Aren't you going to go make an alliance with somebody? You know, so you can win?" She asked. The woman opened one eye to look at her.

"Arent you already my ally sugar?" Was all she said before closing her eyes again and placing her smooth hands behind her head. (Y/n) felt a sense of pride at Akilah's words. She had not come here to make friends, only expecting to sit by her lonesome in a circle for a couple of hours, but (Y/n) would be eternally grateful if she picked up a couple along the way. Lord knows she needs the social interaction.

---

It had been almost a full hour since Jimmy had officially started the challenge, and boy was Akilah out. The mentioned girl had been snoring away ever since things had quieted down, causing (Y/n) to laugh to herself when she had initially realized.

At one point, the same bored looking guy from earlier had come by and handed her a camera, telling her in his baritone voice that she should use it to record small pieces for the video from time to time.

Now with her fairly large amount of boredom growing by the minute, (Y/n) picked up the camera and searched around for a clue on how to work it. Eventually, a red light lit up and she sighed with a nervous smile.

"Um, is this thing on?" She waved like a shy kindergartner before shaking her head.

"No no, that's weird. Well, um, hi YouTube?" Her words came out as an uneasy question. "I guess you've seen me already, but I'm (Y/n), and this beauty here is Akilah." She flipped the camera around to film her blue shirted friend. She was still napping, currently mumbling something about taki's in her sleep. Hope copyright wont catch that later. Sorry Jimmy.

"She's currently sleeping and has been ever since the video started. A mighty fine strategy if you ask me. After all, who doesn't love a good nap?" (Y/n) mused to herself. Eventually though, she turned the recorder back around and put on a small smile for the nonexistent viewers.

"I guess I'm just here because I'm a broke college student who thought becoming a writer fresh out of school was a good idea. But at least I made a friend in my debt ridden lifestyle." She chuckled softly and waved before turning the thing off. Hopefully Jimmy would find it useless and scrap the video. (Y/n) didn't want to play a major part in the game, which was silly considering the only way to get the money she came here for was to show up on camera a lot.

She then was surprised by a large hand clamping itself down on her shoulder. Stifling a squeak, (Y/n) whipped around with a beating heart to find a pair of blue eyes.

"Hah! You should have seen your face!" A guy cackled, making (Y/n) smile nervously. He stopped laughing to hold his hand out for her to shake.

"So! How are you enjoying the video so far? You know, being in this circle and all." He asked politely, a total contrast to his childish ation just mere moments ago. (Y/n) took her time to answer, noticing yet another camera guy recording them as they all waited for her answer.

"Pretty good. You?" (Y/n) asked, still a little shaken up from the sudden jumpscare. The guy who had been the cause of her fretting gave (Y/n) a confused smile when she had returned the question however.

"Um, I'm not in the video." He said whilst dropping the handshake. (Y/n) tilted her head in confusion. "I'm Chris. You know, Jimmy's friend?" He continued to say. Her eyes widened in realization and she let loose a small 'ohh'.

"Um yeah. You're the orbeez guy right? Sorry, I don't watch a ton of his videos, I only subscribed because my little brother sent me the one backyard video and you all made me laugh." (Y/n) confessed to him. Chris made a shocked face at once that didnt do anything to try and conceal his smile.

"Jimmy!" He shouted, cupping one hand around his mouth. "Jimmy! Get over here!"

(Y/n) tried to shush him, but to no avail. Chris's friend had made his way over, walking in such a weird fashion that one could only assume that sound effects would be added on in the video.

"What's up?" He asked after arriving at the two's little conversing area. Chris wasted no time in walking over and draping an arm around his shoulder, leaning on Jimmy for support.

"This girl right here-" He pointed at (Y/n) "-has only watched one of your videos."

It was a simple sentence, but with the way Chris said it, you could think that the end of the word was near.

Jimmy turned his head to face (Y/n) as well and let out a dramatized gasp.

"Flannel girl! I trusted you!" He said with a small laugh. (Y/n) shrugged, trying not to be too awkward.

"How about this, for every Mr.Beast reference that you can name, Jimmy'll give you a hundred dollars." Chris said, nudging the man in question. He looked at Chris and playfully glared, not really upset that he was offering away money.

"Um, okay." (Y/n) thought for a moment. The only video she had watched was the orbeez one, so she dug deep to try and remember any inside jokes that had been made during the 14 minutes or so.

"The viking- '' She held up one finger and tapped another to her chin "-T-series, Pewdipie, Chandler's Dad, sushi, and something about moisturizer? I think." By the time she had finished, (Y/n) was holding up six fingers.

"Not the moisturizer." Chris groaned, making Jimmy laugh at his peril.

"That was pretty good for a one timer, flannel girl!" Jimmy ended up waving somebody from the sidelines down to give her a stack of money. (Y/n) looked it over, counting six hundred dollars in total. A small pit formed in her stomach at the sight of all the bills. Even if the sole reason she came to this challenge was to pay off her debt, it still felt really wrong to take all of this.

"Hey, Jimmy?" (Y/n) had gotten up and speed waked after the man, holding the money in her calloused hands.

"Yeah?" He asked while scratching his head.

"Here."

(Y/n) gestured out a fair chunk of the stack that he had given her, making him laugh in a confused manner.

"Um, I can't give you more money dude. You only listed six things, sorry-" He started with a tired voice, sounding like stuff like this had happened all the time. But (Y/n) shook her head, cutting him off at the end

"No. I don't want more. I wanted to give this back to you. It feels weird of me to have this. Give it to someone on your team or something, I don't want it all." She pushed the paper into his arms, forcing Jimmy to hold onto it.

Jimmy looked a little puzzled at first. Things like this must not happen in his videos a lot.

"Wow, that's actually pretty cool of you. Guess flannel girl is nice now." He said, reminding (Y/n) of all the jokes he had made when first meeting her.

"Just call me (Y/n)." She smiled vaguely. Jimmy saluted her and spun on his heel, tossing out one last thank you from behind his shoulder.

(Y/n) watched as he made his way over to a boy in the distance, gathering an operating camera to record in the process. She continued to look on as he handed the money to the kid in a turquoise hoodie. As he jumped up and down and made weird happy faces, (Y/n) smiled to herself and walked back away to Akilah.

"Hey." She shook her friend on the ground softly. Eventually the motion woke her up and (Y/n) brought out half of the money from behind her back.

"I got you some stuff." (Y/n) tossed out there like she had grabbed a pudding cup instead of almost six hundred dollars.

"Is this real?!" Akilah was now fully awake and ogling at the money. "You better not be playin with me girl! Is this for real?" She handled the money gently and let loose a big laugh.

"You woke up for the cash huh? I see how it is" (Y/n) teased, making Akilah swat her arm with a smile.

"I knew you seemed like a good person!" She said, making (Y/n) laugh warmly.

"Yeah, well that's what friends are for, right?"

---

The metallic smell of sweat filled the air as (Y/n) blankly watched a group of people scream loudly.

It had been a while since the challenge had originally started and things were boring to say the least. Yeah, the circle did shrink everyday or so, but that was the most excitement she had seen in a while. (Y/n) had resorted to listening to her playlist while tuning out Akilah's fantasies of what she would do with the money. (Most of them consisted of going to KFC, and then getting her nails done afterwards. It didn't sound half bad to be honest.)

But right now, (Y/n) only had one earbud in while gazing from afar. Jimmy had put up a soccer goal right on the edge of the circle's rim, trying to get people to overstep the line. So far it has worked. About three people had already gone home after unfortunately being disqualified.

Jimmy and two other people checked on her earlier. One of them she had already me- Chris. The other introduced themself as Chandler and gave her a firm handshake while adorning a big smile. (Y/n) thought he was quite intimidating at first due to his height, but eventually the shy woman warmed up to his behavior.

They had talked for a couple of minutes before Jimmy and co. was called over by an editor. With a couple of apologies and rushed smiles, the small group of YouTubers shuffled off, leaving (Y/n) alone with Akilah again.

"No! You're dog water, absolute dog water!" A sharp voice crack snapped (Y/n) out of her song filled daze. Lifting their head to get a better look at who had just shouted, her eyes found their way to a giggling boy.

It was the same guy that she had seen Jimmy give her returned money to earlier. Except for this time instead of a turquoise hoodie, he was wearing a fruity Hawaiian shirt and goalie gloves. It made a thin smile spread across (Y/n)'s lips as she continued to watch his dramatic fit.

The male was shouting because one of the other contestants had scored a goal on his watch without overstepping the red line. The goal was some sort of silly thing Jimmy had set up to try and disqualify people, and apparently the 'dog water' guy was acting as a makeshift goalie.

"Who you lookin' at sugar?" Akilah snapped her long fingers in front of (Y/n)'s line of vision. She fluttered her eyes over to see Akilah raising one eyebrow at her.

"Huh?" She mumbled, taking out her other earbud and pressing pause. Akilah grunted in an annoyed manor and repeated herself.

"I asked what you were lookin at. You seemed to be pretty out of it." The sound of jewelry clashing against each other rang out as Akilah guested with her hands while talking. (Y/n) blinked once and breathed in slowly.

"Sorry. I guess the fatigue is finally settling in for me." She offered with a brittle voice. Her hands were shaking for no reason; a detail that Akilah's sharp gaze caught easily.

"You're telling me. If those hands shake anymore they'll fall right off." She pointed out at (Y/n) tried to still them.

"Haven't had my medicine in a while. Thought I would be fine without it." (Y/n) tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I might have to get out soon if that's the cause. I wasn't going to last that long anyways."

Akilah immediately shook her head with a glare while shaking her finger.

"Uh uh. As far as I'm concerned, you are the only sane person in this whole building, and then some. You are not leaving me here alone with the likes of them." She did have a point. Just out of the corner of her eye (Y/n) could see three men surrounding another guy while chanting nursery rhymes.

"But-"

"Hey! Can we get somebody over here!" Akilah shouted while cupping a hand over her mouth. (Y/n) jumped up and tried to swat her, but the goalie she had heard giggling from earlier had already made his way over.

"What do you fine ladys need?" He asked while picking at his nail polish.

Wait- nail polish?

(Y/n) had sat back down without realizing it. She could faintly make out some vibrant colors that had been painted over the males nails. He even had an assortment of ceramic and metal rings on. One of them looked like a frog of somesorts.

I don't know what she was expecting him to be like, but certainly not this.

---

Karl had noticed the shy girl for a while now.

She had originally caught his eye with her strange habits, never straying from one certain spot in the circle. The only time she even spoke was when it was to this one other woman that had stuck herself to her side.

Karl was even more intrigued when Jimmy informed him that she was the one to return a stack of money; which had ended up finding its way back to his own hands.

"Oh yeah, we just call her flannel girl." Jimmy looked up from a clipboard he was writing on momentarily to smile at Karl.

"Flannel girl?" Karl responded with. Jimmy laughed at his smaller friend's confusion and set the clipboard down softly.

"Yup. I found her trying to put her shirt near the edge of the building after she had stepped in the circle. As closed off as she appears, the dude's pretty cool."

Karl had figured out that much at this point. She always made sure to apologize if something went remotely wrong- whether it was her fault or not. So fo course she would be 'pretty cool'.

"I didn't know you had already gotten to know a contestant so well." Karl said while leaning towards Jimmy a bit. He did a poor job of covering up his blatant curiosity about the 'flannel girl'. Jimmy noticed his eager behavior but said nothing.

"She's really shy. You should go talk to her." He said with a hint of something undetectable in his voice. Immediately declining the offer, Karl avoided eye contact and played with the edge of his hoodie strings.

The conversation had ended from there, but Karl's thoughts now were consumed by the timid girl.

---

"What can I help you fine ladies with?" Karl asked, fiddling with his hands. He was trying to remain cool, but it's kind of hard when you're standing next to someone you think is cute.

(Y/n) was having the same problem. Heat rose to her face in a steady flow. Who knew painted fingernails and some simple rings could affect her like that?

"Uh, yeah. We need some medicine for my girl over here." Akilha gestured with one of her thumbs at (Y/n).

"Oh er, what kind of medicine?" Karl said. He didn't even question why she needed it; just jumping in headfirst.

"Klonopin." She mumbled. "But Xanax would be fine. You could probably find it in my shirt pocket somewhere over by that wall."

Yeah, she wore shirts with utility pockets on them. So sue her.

Karl nodded quickly, flashing a toothy grin before speeding off.

(Y/n) smiled dreamily, looking happier than she had in a while. Karl reminded her of a puppy, but in the best way possible. And even though he did look extremely soft, she had no hesitation in saying that he would be able to stand his ground. No need for babying.

She hoped that she would see more of him soon.

Anyways, Im watching the Ranboo stream while doing this. Go watch it too, and sub to Oreo boi.

This is not my best work whatsoever. I ended it abruptly and it sucks ass so hard, but I felt like I needed to get a chapter out. Please dont hate me for this lmao

Hope you've had a nice day mate

I'll edit this shit later. Adios

5146 words

-WayToSarcastic

#dsmp #dsmp x reader #mr beast #karl jacobs #karl #karl x reader #cc!reader #5000 words #long ass chapter #sub to oreo boi #anxitey #(y/n)#irl #youtibe video #mr beast crew #probably a lot of typos ngl

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nicklloydnow · 2 years

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“The main problem in any democracy is that crowd pleasers are generally brainless swine who can go out on a stage & whup their supporters into an orgiastic frenzy - then go back to the office & sell every one of the poor bastards down the tube for a nickel apiece. Probably the rarest form of life in American politics is the man who can turn on a crowd & still keep his head straight - assuming it was straight in the first place.

Which harks back to McGovern's problem. He is probably the most honest big-time politician in America; Robert Kennedy, several years before he was murdered, called George McGovern "the most decent man in the Senate." Which is not quite the same thing as being the best candidate for President of the United States. For that, McGovern would need at least one dark kinky streak of Mick Jagger in his soul . . .

Not much, & perhaps not even enough so people would notice at lunch in the Capitol Hill Hotel or walking down the hallway of the Senate Office Building - but just enough to drift out on the stage in front of a big crowd & let the spectacle turn him on.

That may be the handle. Maybe the whole secret of turning a crowd on is getting turned on yourself by the crowd. The only candidate running for the presidency today who seems to understand this is George Wallace which might at least partially explain why Bobby Kennedy was the only candidate who could take votes away from Wallace in '68. Kennedy, like Wallace, was able to connect with people on some kind of visceral, instinctive level that is probably both above & below "rational politics." (page 127)

“McGovern's brain-trust, though, had come up with the idea that the Wallace vote was "soft” - that the typical Wallace voter, especially in the North and Midwest, was far less committed to Wallace himself than to his thundering, gut-level appeal to rise up and smash all the "pointy-headed bureaucrats in Washington" who'd been fucking them over for so long.

The root of the Wallace magic was a cynical, showbiz instinct for knowing exactly which issues would whip a hall full of beer-drinking factory workers into a frenzy - and then doing exactly that, by howling down from the podium that he had an instant, overnight cure for all their worst afflictions: Taxes? Nigras? Army worms killing the turnip crop? Whatever it was, Wallace assured his supporters that the solution was actually real simple, and that the only reason they had any hassle with the government at all was because those greedy bloodsuckers in Washington didn't want the problems solved, so they wouldn't be put out of work.

The ugly truth is that Wallace had never even bothered to understand the problems - much less come up with any honest solutions - but "the Fighting Little Judge" has never lost much sleep from guilt feelings about his personal credibility gap. Southern politicians are not made that way. Successful con men are treated with considerable respect in the South. A good slice of the settler population of that region were men who'd been given a choice between being shipped off to the New World in leg-irons and spending the rest of their lives in English prisons. The Crown saw no point in feeding them year after year, and they were far too dangerous to be turned loose on the streets of London - so, rather than overload the public hanging schedule, the King's Minister of Gaol decided to put this scum to work on the other side of the Atlantic, in The Colonies, where cheap labor was much in demand.

Most of these poor bastards wound up in what is now the Deep South because of the wretched climate. No settler with good sense and a few dollars in his pocket would venture south of Richmond. There was plenty of opportunity around Boston, New York, and Philadelphia - and by British standards the climate in places like South Carolina and Georgia was close to Hell on Earth: swamps, alligators, mosquitos, tropical disease . . . all this plus a boiling sun all day long and no way to make money unless you had a land grant from the King.

So the South was sparsely settled at first, and the shortage of skilled labor was a serious problem to the scattered aristocracy of would-be cotton barons who had been granted huge tracts of good land that would make them all rich if they could only get people to work it.

The slave-trade was one answer, but Africa in 1699 was not a fertile breeding ground for middle-management types . . . and the planters said it was damn near impossible for one white man to establish any kind of control over a boatload of black primitives. The bastards couldn't even speak English. How could a man get the crop in, with brutes like that for help?

There would have to be managers, keepers, overseers: white men who spoke the language, and had a sense of purpose in life. But where would they come from? There was no middle class in the South: only masters and slaves and all that rich land lying fallow.

The King was quick to grasp the financial implications of the problem: The crops must be planted and harvested, in order to sell them for gold - and if all those lazy bastards needed was a few thousand half-bright English-speaking lackeys in order to bring the crops in . . . hell, that was easy: Clean out the jails, cut back on the Crown's grocery bill, jolt the liberals off balance by announcing a new "Progressive Amnesty" program for hardened criminals . . .

Wonderful. Dispatch royal messengers to spread the good word in every corner of the kingdom; and after that send out professional pollsters to record an amazing 66 percent jump in the King's popularity . . . then wait a few weeks before announcing the new 10 percent sales tax on ale.

That's how the South got settled. Not the whole story, perhaps, but it goes a long way toward explaining why George Wallace is the Governor of Alabama. He has the same smile as his great-grandfather - a thrice-convicted pig thief from somewhere near Nottingham, who made a small reputation, they say, as a jailhouse lawyer, before he got shipped out.

Indeed. With a bit of imagination you can almost hear the cranky litle bastard haranguing his fellow prisoners in London's infamous Hardcase jail, urging them on to revolt:

"Lissen here, you poor fools! There's not much time! Even now up - there in the tower - they're cookin up some kind of cruel new punishment for us! How much longer will we stand for it? And now they want to ship us across the ocean to work like slaves in a swamp with a bunch of goddamn Hottentots!

"We won't go! It's asinine! We'll tear this place apart before we'll let that thieving old faggot of a king send us off to work next to Africans!

"How much more of this misery can we stand, boys? I know you're fed right up to here with it. I can see it in your eyes - pure misery! And I'm tellin' you, we don't have to stand for it! We can send the king a message and tell him how we feel! I'll write it up myself, and all you boys can sign it . . . or better still, I'll go talk to the king personally! All you boys have to do is dig me a little tunnel under the wall over there behind the gallows, and I'll . . . “

Right. That bottom line never changes: "You folks be sure and come to see me in the White House, you hear? There'll be plenty of room for my friends, after I clean house . . . but first I need your vote, folks, and after that I'll . . . “

George Wallace is one of the worst charlatans in politics, but there is no denying his talent for converting frustration into energy. What McGovern sensed in Florida, however - while Wallace was stomping him, along with all the others - was the possibility that Wallace appealed instinctively to a lot more people than would actually vote for him. He was stirring up more anger than he knew how to channel. The frustration was there, and it was easy enough to convert it - but what then? If Wallace had taken himself seriously as a presidential candidate - as a Democrat or anything else - he might have put together the kind of organization that would have made him a genuine threat in the primaries, instead of just a spoiler.” (pages 274 - 278)

#thompson #hunter s thompson #fear and loathing #1972 #nixon #richard nixon #mcgovern #george mcgovern #george wallace #the south #segregation #robert kennedy #1968 #trump #trump presidency

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