#anyway 3 episodes in and i can feel my brain leaking out of my ear

[skloomdumpster]

going through the agonies (watching Wednesday)

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

MAC!!!!! i hope u r havin a GOOD DAY!!! i came 2 tell u that a) i watched ep 18 of pd s2 and i feel like i lost all of my braincells. businessman vyncent you are SO fucking cringefail. “it’s time for my four o’clock piss” ????? they brought in tony from tony’s pizza as a lawyer. this was so fuckign dumb oh my lord. what even was that episode i think my brain leaked out of my ears!!!! this is a got damn sitcom!!!!!! i had to pause every few minutes because i felt like i was losing my mind. genuinely surprised i did not have an aneurysm through that whole mess it was so fucking funny and so fucking stupid <3 ALSO!! things from the episode that immediately made me think of u: the wiwi danny phantom parody at the beginning!! as soon as i heard the beginning of the theme song i was like “YOOOOO MAC GHOSTIEZONE MY FRIEND MAC GHOSTIEZONE PROBABLY WENT NUTS OVER THIS!!” also BRIEF GILLION TIDESTRIDER MENTION 🎉🎉🎉 charlie accidentally did the voice he does for gillion at some point in the episode and i was like!! that is mac’s fish guy!!!!! the he!!!

also. b) i heard. that in riptide. at some point in an episode. grizzly decided to write gay smut and have gillion read it. and i am too curious for my own good so i found the episode and the timestamp and watched it. head in hands. Grizzly What Is Wrong With You. THE THING IS IT WAS ACTUALLY LOWKEY WELL WRITTEN LIKE HE ACTUALLY CAPTURED THE FEELING OF READING EROTICA WRITTEN BACK IN LIKE THE 1800’S. I DONT FUCKING KNOW HOW HE WROTE THAT OR WHY. BUT I THINK IT ALTERED SOMETHING IN MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY IN A VERY STRANGE WAY. THAT IS NOT HIS FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT NO WAY IT IS HE HAS TO BE LYING. GRIZZLYPLAYS WHY DID YOU WRITE THIS. I DONT KNOW THE FULL CONTEXT ALL I KNOW IS THAT I LISTENED TO GILLION TIDESTRIDER READ GAY EROTICA AND THE TERM DARK PUCKERED HOLE WILL UNFORTUNATELY LIVE IN MY HEAD FOREVER

and c) THAT. ASIDE. lookit the lil guy i bought yesterday :3 he is a cat…….. BUT ALSO A SHARK!!!!

i wanna name him wiwi. not rly for william related purposes he just looks like an el wiwi. fuckin itty bitty thing!!!!!

anyway i’m gonna watch ep19 today <3 i hope ur havin a lovely day i am sending u one million hugs in the mail they’ll be there in five to ten business days

AHAAAA GOD THE HEIST EPISODE WAS SO FUCKING STUPID I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. THEYRE SUCH IDIOTS. CANNOT BELIEVE THEY GOT OUT OF THERE IN ONE PIECE. anyway . hi! u just met david how do you feel about david!!!!!! stupid idiot fell for businessman vyncent.

AHA I FORGOT THAT WAS THE ONE WITH THE DP INTRO. u know whats really funny. the first post in my pd tag is a clip of that intro. i saw that when i was about halfway through riptide and my immediate reaction to it was "oh god i can never watch prime defenders now. ill be too insufferable about it if they lean into the dp angle for the ghost boy" and. well. look at me now. funny enough i think the second post in my pd tag is a piece of mark winters fanart where i was like "man idk this guy yet but he looks cool" LITTLE DID I FUCKING KNOW. points at past me. his ass is clueless!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD. FUCK. YOU DONT EVENFUCKING KNOW. YOU DONT EVEN KNOW. THE EXTENT. AT WHICH GRIZZLY WROTE OLD MAN SMUT. THE FUCKING VISCERAL REACTION THAT CLIP HAD ON ME. I HAD TO TAKE OFF MY HEADPHONES A FEW TIMES. I WAS ON CALL WITH JONESY AND THEY WERE LIKE. no. no. coward. put your headphones back on and listen to dark puckered hole like a man. i hate it here. and the fact that it was gillion who read it OUT LOUD who is the like. EXPLICITLY ASEXUAL CHARACTER. extremely funny to me. peepaw getting down. god i love riptide it sucks so much this podcast is so unserious. theres no way this is grizzlys first time writing fanfiction WHY IS IT SO WELL WRITTEN. fuck!!!!!!!! fuck you for making me think about dark puckered hole. this is not a single occurrence btw there are MULTIPLE readings of this book. jay cannot leave gillion and chip alone for five minutes or gill will start reading the smut book out loud again.

I LOVE WIWI THE CAT ALSO.................... OH MAN..... LITTLE SHARK KITTY........ he looks squishable. activating my cuteness aggression i think i need to bite him.

[megabadbunny]

if we let go (4/?)

He pulls her down for another kiss and he doesn’t mean it to be such a needy thing, so desperate and harsh and hungry, but the way her lips part almost immediately makes him suspect she’s every bit as starved as he is.

I.e., Rose gets a choice, even if she has to carve it out for herself. In this chapter, she and the metacrisis Doctor choose just how vulnerable they’re willing to be with each other.

***

rose x ten, rose x tentoo; a journey’s end fixit (of sorts), dedicated to @travelingrose , whose very good questions reignited my love/hate relationship with this episode/storyline, and to @goingtothetardis, who kept me encouraged while writing (thank you dahling!!! <3). (i believe this also fills some rose x tentoo / tentoo day / tenth doctor month prompts from @timepetalsprompts and @doctorroseprompts​ .) heavy angst, but also lots of flirting, fluff, romance, some adventure, and some smut; sfw versions on tumblr & ff.net, nsfw versions on ao3 and teaspoon. this chapter is where the nsfw stuff officially kicks in.

***

prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5

chapter four: what it is and where it stops, nobody knows

He isn’t surprised by the shrieks that pierce the night air. If anything, he’s surprised it took so long. He is, however, shocked at the sight of Rose, stumbling bleary-eyed into the galley, jacketless and bare-footed.

(Was she sleeping? Where? Just how tired is she?)

It’s not like he forgot she was here—how could he?—but the fact that she’s back onboard the TARDIS still gives him a jolt somehow, like plucking bacon straight out of the sizzling-hot frying-pan and managing to be astonished when it burns your hand.

“Can I help you?” the Doctor asks.

“Can’t sleep. You?”

“Can’t say I’ve tried.”

Rose blinks at him, confused, eyes narrowed against the bright galley light. “Oh,” she says, realizing. “You’re—the other you.”

The Doctor bites back the sarcastic response hiding behind his teeth. “That’s right,” he says instead, downing a gulp of his coffee. It’s black, bitter, and it might as well be jet fuel. He grimaces. “The other me.”

Another cry rings out, and Rose shivers, hugging herself against an invisible chill. “Actually, I wanted to ask—that isn’t Donna, is it? Making that noise? She’s…she’s not in pain?”

The Doctor softens a bit at that despite himself. For all her claims of change, beneath that tough new battle-hardened exterior, Rose is still Rose—tender-hearted and compassionate, sometimes to a fault. Gods, he’s missed that. She and Donna would have got on splendidly.

“No,” he replies. “She’s still in stasis. Can’t feel a thing.” He holds up his medscreen for Rose to see, the stats and figures from Donna’s wrist transceiver blinking across the tablet surface. “I’ll know the instant that changes, if it changes.”

Rose pales in horror at the sound of the next gut-wrenching shout. “Oh my god,” she says, instantly alert, all traces of sleepiness evaporated in a millisecond. “The other Doctor—what’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s all to be expected.” He swallows another mouthful of the tar in his mug and frowns in distaste. Dreadful stuff, coffee, but tea seems just a little too indulgent at the moment. “Time Lord memories in a human brain, remember? Or human enough, anyway.”

“Is he gonna have the same trouble as Donna?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Got enough of my original genetic material to keep all his grey matter from leaking out.” He drinks in a deep breath. “Now, the nightmares, on the other hand…”

He trails off, because Rose has got that look on her face, and maybe it’s been a few years (or a few centuries, feels about the same), but he still knows that look, still knows it exactly, the someone-is-hurting-and-I’ve-gotta-do-something-about-it look. Which is a problem, because if he knows himself like he thinks he does—and unfortunately, a millennia is more than enough time to get to know yourself, your few good qualities and many, many flaws alike—this will not end well, not for anyone.

“Rose,” the Doctor says warningly, but already she’s padding out of the gallery, her footfalls echoing softly in the corridor.

The Doctor swears under his breath. “Wait,” he says, louder, pushing up from the table so hard his chair slams to the tiles with a thwack. He sprints after her, but by the time he reaches the hall, Rose is already meters and meters off—she’s faster than he remembers somehow, or is that just one more way that she’s different from before?—and he shouts, “Just leave it alone, Rose. Trust me!”

Not the most brilliant choice of words at the end there, he thinks when she doesn’t stop.

 ***

 Fire, fire everywhere and—

burning

(red-hot white-hot iron and copper and pennies, steel, metallic and cold-boiling in his mouth)

Skin, bonding in nano-increments, cells knitting together over bones grown solid and if he could, he would double over with the pain of it, the unbearable hurt of becoming real

“What are you whinging about?” Harriet Jones asks, arms crossed over a gaping black hole in her chest. “At least you got a new heart out of all this.”

(real isn’t how you are made, said the skin horse, it’s a thing that happens to you)

I’m sorry, he says, or tries to say, but he hasn’t got a tongue yet, just rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth tearing the insides of newborn cheeks

Laughter, and when he looks up again, past the blood-red haze clouding his fetal eyes, the Harriet-thing is grinning, skin stretched too-tight over a Halloween-store-parody of a skull. “Absolutely the same man,” she says, words dripping with disgust

and the faintest hint of something ruby-red—

“I never asked for it,” he spits out as soon as words can take form in his mouth. “I can’t count you amongst my many sins.”

Curling in on himself, a ribbon that twists and cramps and contracts, muscles rippling under the skin; raw fingers scratch themselves bloody and reach stretch break into the

(does it hurt? asked the rabbit)

(she opens her maw and entire galaxies float inside, suspended in midnight-black ink, rainbow-swirling like an oil slick)

“No, no,” he begs (wheezes; throat is parched and cracked and dry; xtonic radiation is a cruel and cowardly bitch)

(Please Susan please please please help)

“What do you expect her to do?” asks Rose, circling a protective arm around his granddaughter (what’s left of her, anyway, blurred and wet and staining Rose’s shirt). “She’s just as dead as the rest of them.”

Tear ducts form just in time for salt to well up in his eyes, burning his cheeks, holy water scorching clean in blistering trenches

(galaxies dissolve one-by-one and he can hear feel smell taste every one of them dying, rotting-sweet dead flowers dirty crumpled five-pound notes ash in his mouth)

Hand new and complete and he reaches out but Donna is there instead, and he watches, helpless, as she falls in agonizing slow-motion; it would almost be funny except wait it is funny he is laughing he is laughing he is laughing so hard he cries why can’t he stop

crawls over to her prone body, crumpled on the grating, dying over scattered galaxy crumbs and sputtering embers and he turns her onto her back, and something black is where her eyes should be, overflowing and staining fire-red hair

“I didn’t mean to,” he chokes out, but she can’t hear, the black stuff swells up in her nose and her mouth and her ears and it burns everywhere it touches, eating away at her skin and her hair and her cut-up leather jacket (and oh, the fit she would throw if she knew)

(it doesn’t happen all at once, said the skin horse, you become. it takes a long time)

(Doctor, she says, and her voice sounds funny and far-away)

“No, no, not that,” he pleads. “Anything else—”

She turns what’s left of her skeleton-face toward him and she screams

 **

 “Doctor!”

Air sharp in his lungs like a knife and the Doctor can’t get enough of it, gulping and choking until he thinks it might gash his throat.

“Shhh, you’re okay, you’re okay, it’s just a nightmare, it isn’t real—”

Hands on his chest, smaller than his but familiar, but they’re gone, she’s gone, all of her, and she’s never—

Frantic knocking against his ribs and he wonders if he’s ever been in a place so dark before, ever witnessed anything that ate the light like this. One of his hands slides beneath those on his chest, checking, and—yes, there it is. One heart, just the one. Damn.

“Doctor?” says the voice again, quieter this time. “Are you awake? Are you all right?”

Oh, god.

Impressions of the nightmare slowly fade, blinked away like the remnants of too-bright lights splashed across the backs of his eyelids, and the darkness in his room dissolves bit by aching bit. He can just make out the shape of someone else in his bed, silhouetted by the dim light leaking beneath his bedroom door. Too murky to make out any details, but she’s haunted his subconscious long enough that he would know her anywhere, unmistakable in any form.

“Rose?” rasps the Doctor, his voice rough from shouting (crying?).

“Yeah,” she says, fingers curling in his tee-shirt. “I’m here, with you. Remember? And everything’s gonna be…”

The Doctor doesn’t hear what she says next—blood rushes in his ears, pins-and-needles and a high-pitched whine and a thick thump-thump-thumping; cold sweat beads on his brow, and he fights the nausea threatening to wash over him. Forcing his breathing to slow, he pushes up in the bed. He can feel her staring at him, feel her concern. Relief and embarrassment rise up in equal measure, searing-hot fluid in a thin-skinned blister.

“Please get out,” he pants.

Her hands stall on his chest. “Doctor?”

“Please,” he says, brokenly, knuckles scraping the tears from his cheeks. He curses himself for ever letting anyone see him like this, for ever allowing himself to be so shamefully pathetic. “You never should have—I don’t need you here. Get out.”

The Doctor can practically hear Rose’s heart hardening at that.

Her next breath is tremulous, watery. “Fine.”

The bed jostles with the force of her movement, bedclothes twisting as she crawls over them and gropes semi-blindly for the edge of the mattress, and the Doctor realizes she actually listened to him this time. Really, properly listened—and she’s really, properly going. Now the panic rushes in, and the guilt, settling heavily at the pit of his stomach. Please no please don’t go please don’t leave please…

“Wait,” he calls hoarsely after her, but her feet have already reached the floor. “Rose—”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it. Tell a girl Get out enough times, eventually it gets through her thick skull.”

He springs out of bed just in time to grab her hand before it can twist the doorknob. “Rose, stop. Please.”

“Why? Planning to call up any other regenerations to come spit in my face?” she snaps, her back turned to him. “How about my first Doctor, the one who died on the Gamestation? Want to bring him on over so he can have a go at me, too?”

Her shoulders are tense, hard as flint as the Doctor places his hands on them, gently nudging her until she turns around to face him. Her entire body quakes beneath his touch and he suspects that, just like him, her shivering has got nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

“I fought so hard,” she says plaintively, and the Doctor doesn’t need to see or touch her face to know she’s crying now. He can hear the tears thick in her voice, feel the sobs wracking her frame. “It’s been years, Doctor, and I tried—I thought about trying, settling into a life over there, and I could’ve, there were times I wanted to, I had friends and my family and a good job and there were blokes and a girl and I could’ve—but I couldn’t—not after all the things I did, and if you ever knew—and I just missed you so much, god, I missed you, and I thought—if I tried hard enough—”

Laughing through her tears, Rose shivers even more violently. “God, I’m stupid.”

“Not true,” says the Doctor firmly.

“I am, though,” she says with a sniffle. “I don’t know what else I expected. I mean, it’s not like I thought I’d come back and you’d scoop me up in your arms, or, I don’t know, profess your eternal love for me, or whatever. I just thought, I hoped we could pick up where we’d left off, just the two of us, and Donna too if she wanted, back out in the stars, and I thought, maybe, one day, if I was really, really lucky, maybe you would—”

He cuts her off with a kiss.

She stiffens against him, body going rigid under his hands, and he knows he’s being rude, or unfair, or possibly terribly unchivalrous; definitely something Donna would smack him for, and he wouldn’t blame her. And it’s messy, salty, wet, her tears viscous and sticky on Rose’s cheeks and her lips and now on his as well. But it’s warm, too, in a way that makes him dizzy, his chest expanding, his blood thrilling in his veins. And hopefully Rose can find it in herself to forgive him, because right now he just doesn’t have the words. He can only hope, desperately, that his actions will speak loudly enough in their stead.

(And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about this since these eyes first saw her.)

Eventually Rose relaxes in his grip, pulling back with a soft gasp. “You don’t have to do that,” she mumbles.

“Do what?”

She thumbs the tears off her face. “Give me anything out of guilt. Just because you think I want it.”

He nods. “All right.”

He kisses her again.

A strained little whimper rises in Rose’s throat and she snakes her arms around his neck and before he knows it, his arms are responding in kind, wrapping around her and pulling her body flush with his. She’s still shaking but it’s more of a buzz now, something he can sense in his skin, creeping into his skull like a rush of alcohol. His body floods with warmth as her tongue tentatively brushes his lower lip and a flash-vision pops into his mind, detailing how he could push her up against the door—

Suddenly he’s gone a bit jellylike in the knees and the Doctor breaks the kiss with a shudder. The room feels like it’s spinning around him.

(He’s relieved to hear he’s not the only one struggling to hide breaths gone ragged.)

“You…” Rose says, and swallows. “That’s cheating.”

“Never said I’d play fair,” the Doctor replies, step-stumbling back until his legs hit the bed. He sits down, grateful for the support.

Rose doesn’t budge from the door, so the Doctor holds out a hand—can she see it in the almost-black, can she tell he’s reaching out for her?—and after a few horrible moments of nothing, her warm little palm slides along his. She lets him draw her in, and he has every intention of wrapping his arms around her again, comforting them both with a solid, lung-squeezing hug, so he’s surprised when her hands reach out and cup his jaw, tilting his face upward. He wonders if, perhaps, her night-vision is better than his now, if she can see the nervousness and hope written across his features, but soon it’s apparent she’s seeing with her hands; her thumbs stroke the apples of his cheeks, tracing the edges of his sideburns and working up to his temples. His eyes flutter shut at her touch and he fights not to lean into it, like a cat. Fingers tangle in his hair and nails scratch lightly against his scalp and he can’t stop the hum that escapes in response.

He pulls her down for another kiss and he doesn’t mean it to be such a needy thing, so desperate and harsh and hungry, but the way her lips part almost immediately makes him suspect she’s every bit as starved as he is. She deepens the kiss and his tongue chases after hers. Dizzy with want, he clutches at her hips, he’s just got to touch her somewhere, anywhere she’ll let him, he needs to feel her, soft and solid and safe, but she’s still so far away, still oceans and oceans between them—

The Doctor doesn’t even try to hold back a sigh of relief when Rose clambers into his lap, pressing herself against him. The weight of her is warm and reassuring, the frantic pit-pat-patter of her heart against his a welcome rhythm.

“I don’t play fair either,” says Rose, and she kisses him fiercely before he has a chance to reply.

 **

 Afterward, she slumps against him, panting. Eyes shuttering closed, he wraps his arms around her, losing himself in the gentle rise and fall of their chests as their breaths slowly calm. But eventually Rose stirs in his arms, sitting back on his lap; the Doctor imagines if he could see her face in better detail right now, her eyes would be glazed, blinking heavily. He suspects his are doing much the same.

He feels like he should say something, but his breathing is too thick to allow any words out of his mouth. At least, that’s what he tells himself; the truth is, he’s still too stunned by the idea of Rose sitting in his lap to really register anything that’s happening right now, or anything that’s happened in the last few minutes, for that matter. A not-unpleasant buzzing sound has filled his head, pairing nicely with the numb feeling suffusing him below the waist, and it’s just a bit difficult to think past it all.

Rose wriggles off his lap, both of them wincing, and she walks off toward his en suite, fumbling for the light-switch in the dark. Soon she finds it (impressive, considering she’s never been in here before) and searing yellow-white light lances the Doctor’s vision, blinding him with its brightness. Moments later, the Doctor is surprised by the sensation of something soft hitting him in the face. He blinks out the light, confused, pulling a flannel from where it fell in his lap.

“Figured you might want to clean up,” Rose says from the doorway to the en suite. She’s not wrong, and oddly considerate—but something about her sudden frankness and neutral tone sets panic thrumming in the Doctor’s system all over again.

She’s not just going to up and leave after all that, right? Surely she wouldn’t?

The door to the en suite closes, leaving the Doctor alone in the darkness once again, frozen. Slowly, amidst the sounds of flushing and washing-up, he tidies up. The fresh, clean flannel is a blessing on his skin, but it isn’t enough to soothe the anxiety roiling in his skull, especially when the light turns back off and Rose comes out and, quietly, heads straight for the bedroom door. The Doctor wants to ask her to stay, but the words seem wrong, somehow, almost childish, and at any rate, they’re stuck in his throat.

Hand on the doorknob, Rose hesitates. “Did I push you?” she asks, her voice small.

“No,” he answers quickly, thankful that his tongue finally works again. “No, not at all.”

She sighs in relief. “And you, erm. Would you rather I left you al—”

“No.”

Another sigh. “Good.”

The mattress dips beneath her weight as Rose crawls back into the bed, and, his weary brain just a bit slow on the uptake, the Doctor follows after, sure to leave a respectable amount of space between them, just in case Rose wants it. But he soon learns he needn’t have worried; the second his head hits the pillow, Rose snuggles up against him, tucking her head beneath his chin and insinuating one leg between his. Surprised, but nonetheless pleased, the Doctor pulls her into his embrace, wondering how in the universe he managed to be the lucky sod she’s curled up against tonight.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Rose mutters sleepily into his chest.

The Doctor startles out of his thoughts. “Hm?”

“What happened to Donna. It’s not your fault.”

It’s stupid, really, how quickly the tears spring up behind his eyes. He grits his teeth until the pressure fades, his fists clenching tightly in Rose’s tee-shirt. He has half a mind to untangle himself from her, to get up out of the bed and throw open the doors of the TARDIS and scream at the universe until his voice grows hoarse and his throat bloody, but the other half of his mind gently points out how Rose’s breathing has already evened out, how relaxed her entire body is next to his, how warm and soft she is in his arms. How she’s here, with him, now, despite everything.

With a tired exhale, he nuzzles into Rose’s hair. Fruity shampoo, expensive perfume, the faintest tinge of chemicals from her hair dye all greet him; marveling at how natural it all feels, the two of them close and quiet like this, he breathes it in, committing it to memory, just in case. He closes his eyes and, inch by inch, lets himself loosen.

She’s wrong about Donna, of course. But it was still nice of her to say.

***

Previous: Chapter Three | Next: Chapter Five

[ts-2020-olympics]

Episode 13 - “Put On My Villain Attire” - Sammy

This week was a lot, I made a mistake socially that hurt someone, and i couldnt be more disgusted or hurt with myself tonight. I feel awful for what i said about nicole, after tribal i cryed like a kid on call with sammy and Caeleb. Reaching out to nicole was hard because i dont want her to think im coming to say sorry as a game move. I respect nicole as a person, as a player, and I made a mistake, and it was time for me to own up to making a personal comment in context that should not have been personal. Now getting that out of the way, this week was crazy, the vote was Tommy, then Jacob, Then nicole, cut to tribal Nicole is excused from tribal, which im thankful for because i actually got to reach out to nicole after to say sorry for my comment.  Getting a response was the last thing I expected from her. And it made me happy to get one, especially such an understanding one that came from her realizing that was not my intentions. Game wise going forward, im aware theres cracks in this alliance and im not 100% safe. But im gonna ride it till i cant no more. I don't want to think game tonight but obviously i need to keep thinking about the game. Immunity wise, i dont think its necessity that I need to win, Even after I had a blow up and such i still feel like those in the game understand how hard it was for me tonight and my truth of how i didnt mean to hurt nicole. I still feel the most close to Sammy and Caeleb, they where there for me tonight after tribal while a cried, so was Kevin and Emma, idealy these people are the people I want there with me at the end of the game. In other news, Darcy has exposed himself as someone who has voted out sammy, meaning the list of people who need to go before I need to start backstabbing gets longer Stoner, Tommy, Nicole and Darcy are IDEALLY the next 4 boots, but u never know what will happen in this game! I could be working with Nicole next round for all I know. ANYWAYS TLDR: Im sorry, me and nicole are fine, im in a good place in this game. Thank u for coming to this LONG ASS confessional. 

im dying, so its been fun toodaloo 

Actually feeling very frustrated atm. I wanted this immunity so bad. The way Nicole plays this game is very frustrating and I’d love to see the way she actually plays the real game. Is she just gonna sit under the hut and ignore everyone that approaches her. She just lies about everyone and the minute someone does something against her she cries in her host chat. I’m usually not a mean person but she deserves to be the villain of this season. I literally have always looked up to Nicole as a player bc I have seen how genuine and kind she can be. But this game has really tossed out how i viewed her as a player. As a person sure she’s great but there’s a way to play this game by having good character. I would hate to see me leave before Nicole but if it happens and she makes it to the finals that’s okay but she won’t have my vote poor management. Anyways don’t wanna make my whole confessional about Nicole since she’s made the whole game revolve around her actions already. I’d like to personally shoutout Jordan caeleb and Eve in this confessional. Truly are the rays of sunshine in this game. I have my doubts about Kevin, Emma, and Darcy because I think that they have connections to Nicole. Someone is playing everyone and it’s so frustrating. I was so close to winning this immunity. I need to survive. Also I am very annoyed that caeleb has not had to stress a single round since merge. Yeah he’s my closest ally but like it’s annoying i want someone else like me to be immune and i know it’s selfish but it’s just annoying. I need to figure this out. I might have to put on my villain attire for this round. 

IMMUNITY? IMMUNITY? I HAVE THAT? Oh my god I think this may be like the first immunity I've actually one in the history of my Tumblr Survivor career (although checking the records there was one time I was just like individually immune for no reason during Seychelles premerge and I do not remember why) I needed this SO BAD, and even better is everyone is PISSED at me for winning, nobody can figure out where I figured out all the colors and it's SOOOOOOOOO FUNNY god bless, long live the underdog bayyyyyyybeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! 

Okay, so here goes.   To start off my confessional for this round, that past tribal really was a mess.  Nicole played a tribal skip, so she survived, which was a good play on her part, but it led to some messy scrambles, and ended up losing probably my closest friend in this game (Love you Jacob <3,)  I ended up voting in minority with Jacob to keep my word, even though I knew majority was on Jacob.   In this game though, you got to take risks, and if the risk of keeping my word to my good friend outside this game ends up being my downfall, then so be it.   However, one isn't going to win by playing it safe every round and voting with majority all the time, you got to vote in minority at times too and try to at least make some bold moves, to get out the threats, otherwise, you might as well just give them the money, as those players would all make finals, and one of them would win.  Then where would the sheep be?   They would be at the jury, alongside those who they voted out.   Now, terms of this round, Nicole and I are trying to come together to split up the power trio of Eve, Caeleb and Sammy.   Plan is to try getting out Eve, as Eve has everyone basically wrapped around their finger, which I do not like, and I think Eve has the best chance of winning this game if they make it to the end, so yea Eve has to go.   I've also been hearing though, and sounds of things, Emma is wanting me out, and her reason I think is pretty well just because I haven't been voting with her.  It's like, I have only been to 3 tribals so far with Emma (4 if you count this one,)  and I voted with her the one tribal against Karen, then other tribal was just because I wanted to be loyal to my friend, and keep my word.   The first time though, was because I found the other person more threatening to my game.   Anyways, I am fighting my all right now to stay, and not going to back down, but if I end up going, so be it, I know I played a great game, and am glad with everything about it.   Pitching to people though that I'm not threatening at all, I literally have 0 moves on my resume at the moment, and how I just want to try beating 7th, because as of currently, 7th is my best placement.   Here goes nothing, and hopefully cards fall right, and Eve gets slain.

I’m kind of feeling hopeless after this round. Nobody actually wants to make the moves that need to be made, nobody wants to do anything actually smart. People are just being so short-sighted and playing for jury. Eve has an ego and will use it to make you believe that it’s her way or the highway. I feel like any cast with more than three braincells amongst them could really do something but, they won’t. Caeleb will win immunity yet again next round. I’ll go, then one by one they’ll go. I really just like, have no energy to guide these dummies to anywhere anymore. I’m tired. Even with immunity people are just ridiculously fake and annoying. 

I think Emma is the plan for tonight. She's playing a double agent type of game which is super dangerous and people are starting to see through it plus me and her don't have the best past so I'm fine with Emma going. It gets me to the Final 10 and gets me one step closer to the Final Tribal Council. I also think once Emma goes I'll be nobodies #1 target and that'll put me in a good position for next vote as long as Nicole doesn't win immunity again. Although who knows things switch around in this game so fast and it could be me going home because if Emma gets wind of her name being out there I see her coming for me just because of our past and I do think there is viable reason for people to flip their votes onto Me, if Emma campaigns for me to go. I'm hoping my name doesn't get dragged into the conversation and it just stays between Emma, Eve, and Darcy so I have no chance of going home tonight. I'm just gonna lay low after this bit of strategy talk but be around if the wind starts to shift onto me.

Fuck I’m not home and don’t want a stike this will be a quick confessional, Sammy I’m so fucking sorry about this but you have such a good social game and I need you gone to free up the field. Formed an alliance with Darcy today that was random but now I actually trust him which is wierd. Still fucking people over with Nicole it’s crazy how that’s working. Next round is final 10 o need to make it past it or I might cry, once I pass that hurdle I’ve never heard passed I’m good. 9th- 1st no bitter Jordan pines, don’t get me wrong though, 1st is still most preferred and it’s seeming achievable

Bye bye Sammy 

Ahh I have to turn my phone off and can't find confessional but my confessional is that I hate myself for voting Sammy 

I ate dinner, We're doing Sammy. Maybe these people have four brain cells instead of three. I however, still just have the one bumping around in my ear canal saying I might have a chance to win the game which is in fact, the stupidest thought I've had this whole round.

well well well....this round is a BIG OLE MESS, so i went into it last night thinking the vote was gonna be emma because she was leaking to nicole, but then i woke up and i guess the vote is on darcy, but Nicole tried to pull a vote on eve but because emma was involved and very loose lipped I would not have felt comfortable hiding that for almost 5 hours, so i told eve LOL.... but that built my trust up with eve and I thought it would make eve doubt emma even more but instead it seems to have made her want to keep her? which maybe means emma leaked the vote already?? which would be a good thing for me because then i didnt try to hide info that eve already knew, but so then that landed the vote primarily on darcy but honestly if darcy goes home this game is likely in the bag for eve, so I had to come up with something quick ! I have no idea if this is gonna go through but i put all my energy into selling this sarah vote like it was the end all be all move for us to make, when i dont think it is but if sarah can go home then the 5some that im viewing as Sammy/Caeleb/Eve/Jordan/Sarah would be down to 4 meaning theres wiggle room at the final 10 to potentially make a power move on a big player, without them being able to stay 5 solid and threaten rocks. They all seemed kinda hesitant but came around so im nervous, eve also asked for a back up plan which I said could be stoner, but the fact that she asked makes me nervous that shes gonna try to pull a fast one and be like "I think sarah has an idol we need to flip it !!!!!" which would be annoying but i wouldn't put it past eve. This also keeps all my potential numbers in those being nicole and then tommy/darcy emma and stoner, again IF this goes through, i could've lost darcy but then i just a 5v5 or if emma gets bold then a 6v4 and im powerless again. I think this was where i need to make a move and i hope it goes through but if it doesn't at least i tried !!!

I think tonight the night ladies, TONIGHT THE NIGHT I AM RELEASED, i mean if not sarah goes home and its whatever. I love love sarah and feel bad for blindsiding her like this. But I have confidence in Kevins decision here, hes trusted me, I have to trust him now.