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bi-bard · 2 years ago

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Flirting - Graham Dunne Imagine [Daisy Jones & the Six]

Title: Flirting

Pairing: Graham Dunne X Reader

Word Count: 888 words

Warning(s): none

Summary: In the hopes of getting the attention of some big-time journalist in the music world, Graham tries his hand at some flirting.

Author's Note: I warned y'all that this show was going to be my next hyperfixation. I told you that this would happen.

Might write another part to this.

PART TWO HERE

PART THREE HERE

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I had started growing tired of going to parties that were just very extravagant ways to make professional connections.

Having fun and enjoying myself had been left so low on my list of priorities that I truly saw no point in going to those annoying events anymore.

I walked straight to the bar in the venue and pulled myself onto a stool.

"Evening!" the bartender said with a smile. I grinned back. "What can I get you?"

I rattled off my order before turning around and looking at the crowd of people. I took my glass off the counter as I did so.

People were so interesting when they needed things. Some of them were confident. It was difficult to tell who was faking it and who wasn't. The key was the eyes. Truly confident people could look their target in the eye. It made me chuckle.

I had been in the music industry for a decent amount of time. I was a journalist but after enough time, anyone could figure most of it out.

I had been lucky. I earned some respect early on. Some of it seemed to grow and snowball, but some of it was balancing on the edge of a cliff. I was constantly fighting to keep my hold on it.

Maybe that's why I had grown so cold to so many people.

Just as I turned around to order another drink, a guy placed himself on the stool next to me.

After telling the bartender what he wanted, he motioned at me, "And I'll buy their next round."

I scoffed. "No..."

I grabbed my wallet and pulled out some cash.

"This should be enough for my drinks and his," I explained. The bartender nodded.

I turned to look at the man that sat next to me.

He was looking down at the counter. "Sorry... was trying to be nice."

"Well, I don't like feeling indebted to anyone," I replied. He slowly nodded.

Our drinks were placed in front of us.

"I just wanted to buy the most attractive person here a drink," he shrugged.

I chuckled. "That line ever work for you?"

"Haven't really tried it before."

"I don't recommend trying it again."

"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded.

I chuckled.

"You're (Y/n), right? (Y/n) (Y/l/n)?"

"Good guess," I leaned my elbow on the bar. I felt like I had already experienced this conversation a million times before.

"I- I've read your work," he explained. His eyes were jumping between my eyes, the counter, and everything else around me. "It's really well written. You... You've helped me understand records that I would never have listened to twice. I think you offer unique perspectives-"

"What's your name," I asked, cutting him off bluntly.

"Graham," he replied. "Graham Dunne."

"What band are you in, Graham Dunne?" I exaggerated a bit as I said his last name.

"We call ourselves the Dunne Brothers- how did you know I was in a band?"

"Two types of people tend to come up to me at events like this," I explained. "I've learned how to sort them out. Overly confident and aggressive: music producer or some other big name at a label. Awkward and uncoordinated: band member, but usually not the lead singer. Either way, goal's usually the same. Sweet talk in my ear until I write what they want me to write."

"That... sounds lonely," he replied.

"Oh, no, don't do that," I said. "Don't pity me. Makes me sick to my stomach."

"I didn't- I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

"People look at me and see a young person in a position that they don't think I deserve," I shrugged. "To them, I am an easy target. Grow used to it after a while."

"Well, I'm still sorry."

I knew that I wasn't going to get him to drop the topic if I didn't accept the sentiment. "Thanks."

He nodded.

"Now... why did you come up to me?"

He took a deep breath, guilt clearly written on his face. "There's a gig. I have a gig- We have a gig. Tomorrow night."

There it was.

"You want me to write a review of it," I concluded.

"I'd be honored if you did," he offered a soft grin. I nodded slowly.

I don't know what exactly inspired my next actions.

Maybe Graham just seemed different. Something in his eyes was more genuine than anyone that I had met in a while. Maybe he was just better at convincing people to do stuff for him.

Regardless of the reason, I leaned forward, letting my lips brush the shell of his ear while I slid my card under his fingertips. "Call me at this number, we can meet for breakfast, and you can tell me all about that gig you've got."

I leaned back again, biting my lip to avoid chuckling at the stunned look on his face.

"I'll see you around, Graham Dunne."

I stood up and started walking out of the party.

I paused at the door and turned to look at Graham again. He was getting pat on the back and clearly teased by the other people around him. I assumed it was the rest of his band.

I chuckled to myself before going on my way.

This was going to be a very interesting experience.

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#graham dunne imagine #graham dunne fanfiction #graham dunne x reader #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #daisy jones and the six x reader #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #daisy jones and the six imagine

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miss--river · 4 years ago

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The Atrocities of Élan

I hyperfixated on this for 4 days. I decided to write about it to help me get it off my mind. everything in here isnt meant to be in any coherent order. It’s all just me retyping information i heard and read. Not everything about this covered here. I just wrote about what was popping into my head. if you do read whats under the cut just be warned that its very heavy stuff and there are lots of trigger warnings for death, abuse, manipulation, etc.

writing this all down was actually very cathartic for me since i do like to write but its not something im good at.

below are links that you can use to get all the information on what happened at Élan School if you’re interested in learning more about it in a more coherent way instead of reading through my mess.

https://elan.school/

https://www.reddit.com/r/self/comments/ec3xh/even_skimming_this_post_once_will_blow_your_mind/

https://www.fornits.com/phpbb/index.php?topic=32449.0

https://www.wmtw.com/article/student-s-death-investigated-decades-later/2012629

https://elan.school/proof/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89lan_School

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eM7pb5M5DU

Hell on Earth is the only way to describe a private school by the name of Élan and it costs over $50k a year. It was founded in 1970 in Poland Springs, Main by a man named Joe Ricci, a former heroine addict who later worked with young people in drug treatment facilities. Ricci would became well known in Main for purchasing the Scarborough Downs Racetrack and running for governor.

As a young man, he was constantly getting in trouble with the law. At age 12 he was already addicted to drugs and at the age of 18 he would get arrested for robbing a mail truck. He was given the choice of spending seven years in jail or go to a rehabilitation center.

Choosing the latter, he was admitted to Daytop Village. Daytop Village opened in 1963 and was founded by a psychiatrist named Danial Harold and Father William O'Brien. Both men visited another rehabilitation center by the name of Synanon, which would later become the blueprints for Élan. The Church of Synanon was described as cult-like, shaving people's heads and using practices called "attack therapy" to rehabilitate addicts and alcoholics. The name "Synanon" was thought up by the founder, Charles Dederich, while on a drug trip in Santa Monica, California.

The undoing of Synanon would later happen when Dederich was prosecuted and convicted of kidnapping a woman to force her to join his group. He ended up hiring two men to hide a rattlesnake in the prosecutor's mailbox. The rattle was removed from the snake (probably inhumanely) so it wouldn't be heard. Of course, this only added more time to his sentence. However, it was already too late as similar rehabilitation facilities with the same practices would start popping up around the country.

If you were unfortunate enough to land in a place like Élan, you might experience something the students called the "Élan Snatch" which involves two huge men barging into your room in the middle of the night to yank you out of bed, restrain you, and throw you into a van. The school was hidden away, deep in the woods of Poland Springs, Main. On arrival, you'd be assigned a "Big Brother" or "Big Sister." This person's role was basically just to watch your every move. You aren't allowed more than one foot away from this person and you had to ask permission from this person to do anything.

You were then taken to the showers to be deliced as if it were a prison. They took your clothes and gave you colorless, bland clothes and shaved your head. This was called getting rid of your "image." Your "image" is any unique aspect of your personality. It's their way of destroying your sense of identity which could later be earned back as a privilege.

Élan had very specific rules for just about everything. Such rules included but were not limited to:

Having any "image"

Being "sideways"

Looking out the windows

Talking too softly

Talking too loudly

Over sleeping

Under sleeping

Looking at the opposite gender

unauthorized drawing

talking too much

not talking enough

any for of physical contact

And the list goes on and on. All of these things are called "guilt" and all guilt was punished.

There were also people known as None-Strength and Strength. These classes made it easy to control the conversations going on. A Non-Strength and Strength are allowed to interact. If these two classes were interacting they were only allowed to talk about how the Élan program would save their lives. This is referred to as “relating.” A Strength is allowed to interact with another Strength. But, a Non-Strength is not allowed to interact with a Non-strength. If anyone was caught talking about anything except the Élan program it was referred to as “being loose” and they would be told to “tighten up.”

Not following these rules would result in harsh consequences. To help enforce these rules, people known as "Expeditors", who were also students who attended the school, would stand and watch with clipboards. Their role was to keep watch and catch people who broke the rule sand fill their clipboards with people's names and what rules they broke. Otherwise, they'd risk getting in trouble themselves. They, without remorse, would make accusations that were a lie.

Every student was required to record their feelings towards other students on scraps of paper and these were called “Slips.” Every Slip had a name that said who it was from and who it was for. Under that, the words Anger, Jealousy, Frustration, and Intimidation were listed. They would have to circle one of the feelings and they’d be ‘slipped’ into a box with a slot in the top. Every night the slips were recorded into a book that was then passed to the staff. The staff used this information for the Encounter Groups. During these groups, the students would scream the most terrible things at each other. Somehow, this was considered therapy. Everyone was required to scream and if you were being screamed at you weren’t allowed to react in anyway. If you refused to take a turn screaming you were punished.

Punishments varied at Élan. Some children were dressed up in costumes and had to tell everyone why they were dressed the way they were. Other students had to make signs that they had to wear around their necks telling everyone what they came to Élan for. Some students even had to live in a dumpster for two weeks, an expeditor watching them the whole time. If any of the kids escape from the dumpster, the expediter would have to live in the dumpster with them and another expeditor or would come to take their place. One child was dressed up in a pink bunny costume and his ankles shackled as a punishment for trying to run away. Students who tried to escape Élan were labeled as a "Split Risk" and their shoelaces were confiscated because it made it hard to go faster than a walk and made the shoes basically useless.

There were more extreme punishments, though. If you did anything to upset a staff member, no matter how small it was, they could call and "General Meeting." These consisted of a crowd of students surrounding the student that was to be punished, a broom placed at their feet. These General Meetings would happen at random times every day for any reason the staff saw fit. As soon as a staff member said "get your feelings off" that was the cue for the students to start screaming and berating the student in the middle. The purpose of the broom was to limit how many students could yell at once. As long so you fit within the width of the broom you could scream all you want. General Meetings sometimes lasted for hours. But no matter what, no matter how much they wanted to break down, it was against the rules to react. You weren't allowed to cry, you weren't allowed to move, you weren't allowed to do anything. You had to stand there and take it until the staff member said to stop.

Another extreme form of punishment was called The Ring. Staff could also call to start The Ring at any time. The Ring was similar to a General Meeting in that a crowed of students would gather around the person being punished... but, instead of being just berated, they would be forced to fight other students. That’s right. Students were forced to fight one another as a punishment. They were outfitted with head gear and boxing gloves and forced to fight until the staff said to stop. There have been cases where there have been students who didn't survive The Ring. This happened to a 15 year old student by the name of Phil Williams Jr. His life at home was complicated. He had witnessed his father physically abuse his mother many times.The anger and sadness he carried with him was something that Élan loved to exploit.

Phil had been the subject of a Ring session and was beaten up so badly that he collapsed on the floor and it took a whole 20 minutes before someone finally called an ambulance. After that, Phil was never seen again.

“I thought it was a wonderful place. I thought they were helping my brother. I thought he was coming home. He came home alright... in a box.” -Pam Newall, Phil’s sister.

Élan’s response to the situation was that Phil often faked headaches. Phil’s cause of death was listed as a brain aneurysm and no charges were never filed.

As I mentioned earlier, you could earn things as a privilege. Among these things were the right to an education, getting certain things from your “image” back, or even just going outside. Some things had to be earned by rising through the ranks. Every rank is a position held by a student and rank meant everything.

The ranks are as follows from highest to lowest.

Re-Entry

Full Coordinator

Chief

Shingle

Department Head

Expeditor

Ramrod

Worker of Another Crew

Worker of Service Crew

Shotdown

Shotdowns... the lowest of the low. Anyone in any position could get demoted to shotdown if they were caught having guilt or breaking the rules. People in this position scrubbed floors, trashcans, toilets, showers, etc. for weeks, sometimes with only a toothbrush. Anyone in this rank was considered, garbage or subhuman. However, someone with the Re-Entry rank had privileges like taking walks outside, reading, learning, drinking soda, earning their hair styles and clothes back, etc.

Still, if you earned the privilege of getting to go to class, school did not start until 7pm and, if there were no interruptions, would last until 11pm. There were no extracurriculars, no physical education, no projects, and no real exams. Students were made to grade themselves on work that they were self-assigned. Joe Ricci himself said that the classes were designed this way on purpose. He believed students were easier to control when sleep deprived.

After school, kids were escorted back to their dorms. Their beds were uncomfortable military style bunk beds. During the night, students designated the role of Night-Owls would watch over the sleeping students. They performed checks every 10-15 minutes to make sure all the students were sleeping. Flashlights were shined in their faces to see if there was a reaction and blankets were pulled back to make sure they weren’t wearing shoes. Students sometimes wore shoes to bed to try and make an escape during the night while a Night-Owl wasn’t watching. If anyone was successful enough to actually get passed a Night-Owl, a guard from the surrounding woods would be sure to capture them and bring them back. Not only would the escapee be in serious trouble, but the Night-Owl on duty would also have a severe punishment to face.

The punishment for trying to escape was being dressed in a bright yellow shirt and small, bright pink shorts as well as some possible time in “The Corner.” The Corner is exactly what it sounds like except it’s not as easy as being there for 20 minutes so you can think about what you’ve done. Some students were kept in a corner for 3 months or more, sometimes hogtied. They were watched over by another student and made to use a bucket as a toilet.

There are only two ways to get out Élan alive: wait until you’re 18 and sign yourself out or climb through the ranks and graduate. Some students chose to remain at Élan after graduating, becoming staff. There are a number of people who waited until they were 18 to sign themselves out only to be taken to jail to serve their full sentence as if their time in Élan never happened. From what I’ve observed, prison is far better than the hell hole that is Élan. You have a hell of a lot more freedom in prison in comparison. To graduate from Élan you had to at least be in the position of coordinator to even ‘earn’ the possibility of hearing the time period of your supposed graduation date.

In 2001 Joe Ricci died of lung cancer and his wife, Sharon, took over. But, 10 years later, someone on reddit by the name of Gzasmyhero posted about his experience at Élan. This post would be the undoing of Élan as it gained traction and went viral. By April1, 2011 the reputation of Élan had taken a dive so badly and the funds for the school had rapidly declined that they were unable to keep the school open and was forced to shut down. If you watch videos of people exploring the abandoned school today it looks as if it were just a regular school. Élan was all about keeping up appearances to fool parents. That’s right, parents were fed nothing but lies so they could keep making a profit off the students. There was even a handful of staff who had no idea what was going on.

Élan ran unchecked for over 41 years. I wish I could say the end of this type of ‘rehabilitation’ was no longer in use but I can’t. Unfortunately, there are many more facilities just like it around the world. I hope everyone who’s final moments were at Élan are finally at peace. To the people still alive and dealing with the aftermath, I wish you peace and I hope you’re now living your best life. You are strong.

#i havent slept in almost 24 hours #holy shit

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i-hope-youre-hopeful · 4 years ago

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Oopsy whoopsy, I made a fucky wucky

I have a lot to unpack circling around in my little brain but I don’t feel like I have time for everything. Idk. Let’s see if I can speed run it I guess.

Tuesday was so weird I think my soul left my body for a minute there. I hung out with chase Lomont for the first time in a year and a half and also hung out with Hailey and she told me about her new mentally ill boyfriend who isn’t John and also we hung out with Ellie who used to date Drennan who’s dating Sydney now except no he isn’t because tumultuous relationships are apparently the only kind you have in your twenties. Luckily Ellie didn’t seem to know about Sydney and Drennan so we’re good. Oh and some guy whos dating Ellie and wants to be an architect was there. Incredible. I wish either Ellie had been less likable or that in reality she was less crazy because I actually had a nice time with her and it felt dissonant. The whole night felt dissonant. It was nice and adventurous and interesting but thoroughly strange. We sat in multiple bars and each one was more empty and quiet than the last. I’ve been spending money this week and I feel guilty. I should have stopped. I didn’t need to buy that much food and beverage at all.

Anyway Wednesday was terrifying until I found Heidi amongst the crowd of strangers at Brookside who had come for free ice cream. Then it was a pleasant evening at Taco Bell. All my friend groups are starting to run together. I feel like I don’t deserve all the good people I have in my life. I’m not grateful enough. I’m not special enough to warrant having people around. Why does anyone like me? What if they leave? Don’t say that. Everything just feels strange.

Thursday was bad and then it was good and then it was not great but not terrible. I didn’t sleep all night and then I slept all day and woke up at night with everything just a bit off but my parents and I had giordanos pizza and spent time together which is apparently a thing that we do again now. Who knows for how long. My dad wants my mom to come to counseling and she doesn’t want to, so basically identically what happened years ago but reversed. He has forgiven her even though she isn’t sorry, and I know that won’t last. She has not forgiven him even though she says she has, and that won’t last either. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m always either waiting for the other shoe to drop or crying in the corner because a shoe just fell on me. Nevertheless I was able to spend time with my family on Thursday and I was grateful.

I was supposed to hang out with Carissa yesterday but I had to cancel because I was so exhausted I felt sick. I’m always exhausted it seems. At this point I feel strangely guilty if I’m not exhausted, which is insane. I went downtown with Rachel and I had a wonderful time talking and eating and walking around with her. It’s just exactly what I wanted to do. And then I ruined it. I’ve been so lonely and sad and pathetic lately and I was really close to the south side of town and my parents were asleep and Rachel wanted to leave early and it was the perfect opportunity. I saw how Kyle and Rachel were going home together and it made me sad that I will always be going home alone. So I texted shine. I knew it was a horrible idea from the second I did it but everything just fell so nicely into place. But he said he wanted to meet up, but that it would be the last time. He wouldn’t say why. I can’t believe I had the chance to have this end on my terms and now it’s ended on his. I never want to do it again, so it doesn’t matter. But I’m sentimental so I’m sad. That’s exactly the problem, that’s the prime indication that I never should’ve done what I did. I hurt myself. I betrayed myself. I hurt him. He wanted to be hurt, but I still should never have done it. I’m so sorry. I feel so wrought with guilt and grief now, somehow more than I have before. Not only was the thing I did wrong within itself, but I had to lie and manipulate to get there, and I took advantage of someone and willfully undervalued a human person. I undervalued myself. I did not demand the amount of respect that my mind and body deserve. To be so vulnerable with someone should only happen when someone will come and love every little open piece of me they see. It should’ve never been like this, I wasn’t built for something like this. I betrayed my future. I betrayed you. Worst of all I betrayed myself. Rachel said just last night that one of the worst things to do is to betray your own moral compass, and I did it. I broke a promise. Several, in fact. I said I would never do it again and I did and I’m so upset about it that I feel sick. Did I not have enough hurt in me already? Was love and trust and relationship and vulnerability not a touchy enough subject for me as it was? Why would I hurt myself this way? Why would I betray you? I’m so sorry. Now I have to live with more grief and with the anxiety that I physically hurt myself and not just mentally. I wish terribly that I’d never done it. As soon as the night began I just went on autopilot. That’s no excuse.

Please forgive me. Help me to forgive myself. Wash me so that I can be clean again in your presence. I hate this dirt all over me. I’m so sorry to myself. I’m sorry to shine, to my parents, to Kyle and Rachel, and if I am wrong about my future and there is a partner out there for me somewhere, I am even more sorry to them. Most of all I’m sorry to you. I broke a promise and that’s a very serious thing, and I’m so sorry. You only wanted to protect me. I will be different now. I will try, at least. I can’t promise that I won’t do anything stupid again, but I can promise that I’ll try. I know better, so it’s time to do better. Help me move forward.

Future Alyssa: please don’t do this to yourself again. It isn’t worth it. This hurts. It sucks. It’s scary and stressful and leaves you feeling so horribly sad and shameful and defiled. Please forgive yourself and don’t do this again. Nothing is worth this.

I’ve had the same song by Bo Burnham stuck in my head constantly for literally a couple of weeks and I’m actually borderline concerned. Nothing should be rattling around in my brain for that long. I need to find something else to hyperfixate on.

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