#starting to realize that he had worth and value just by existing made me realize that clearer too....

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Origin of the Hollywood Hullabaloos Biker Gang

A Sarge & lil Mama Oral History (Elvis Presley fanfiction)

NOTE: Below are excerpts from Chapter Nine of the “Presley’s Remembered”, a project taken on by the youngest of Elvis and Elaine’s children, compiling interviews, recollections and anecdotes of their famous parents from the early days of their marriage till their late father’s death. In some instances the children interviewed the friends and acquaintances themselves, in other cases they utilized published memoirs and diaries, as well as interviews given on talk shows, radio and to official biographers. The sentiments below are included for their reminiscent value, they do not reflect the opinions or convictions of the Presley family, nor their endorsement as a perfectly accurate portrait of a very public family whose most private motivations were known to them and them alone.

Warnings: PG-13 at the worst? hinted mention of infidelity, the mob, cuckolding bets and a sickening amount of fluff

Billy Smith (cousin): There was this idea, Elvis pitched it to us but I’m pretty sure it was Elaine’s idea but, anyway, the idea was to start a motorcycle club, right? Like, that’s, that’s all there was to it, which sounds silly now in retrospect because it became such a, well, such a big thing ya know? But initially it was just Elvis Presley standing in his backyard in LA saying: “what if we made a bike club and only invited people we like?” And of course everyone immediately became supportive and worked really hard to be likable, you know, to guarantee an invite to be a member. A member of this club that didn’t even exist yet.

Red West (entourage): Oh yeah the bike club. You know how that started, right? It was nothin, I mean -nothin! Elaine and Thumper were already bikin’ through the Hollywood hills, down the canyons and all that whenever Elaine was in town. It’s what they did when Elvis wasn’t home and Elaine wasn’t on set with him. Sidecars and the crowd of kids strapped in and just crusin’. Probably kept the woman sane havin’ somethin’ she could sorta do on her own, get the uh, uh, ya know the uh, -any disgruntlement out. But it became pretty obvious Elvis wanted in on it. He got so excited by this idea Elaine had of him startin’ a whole club, and I remember he came tearing into the den at Hillcrest house to tell Elaine about it and, uh, Elizabeth was there, and uh, Elaine she, she listened to him real patient and animated like always -she always was that way for him you know, humoring him I think- and after he finished with all the details she just said, “that’s brilliant E!” and told him they oughta invest in, in uh, in some specialized leathers if they were gonna do it properly. And he said side cars for the babies too, like that was new, and she said “of course” and then you’ve EP tearing back outside to get the stuff ordered. And let me tell you, he was on cloud nine till he called Ann to tell her about it, and instead of the, the, the excitement, I guess, that he was expecting from her too, she was really miffed. Ann kept saying she and Elaine already had that and he needed to find another hobby. It was like stickin’ a pin in a balloon, man, it went from the only thing he cared about to being worth nothin’. Took Elaine like, like a week or more to build him back up. Those days they, they were kinda rough on him, little things really hit him hard at that time. Elaine -she was the only one to realize how, fragile I guess, fragile he was. Yeah. But of course, in the end, she cheered him up and now ya have the Hollywood Hullabaloo Club and it’s legendary.

Ann-Margret (co-star): Well now, I don’t want to overstep, overshare anything but you are right, it was very private at first, just me and Elaine going on joyrides with the kids. The kids got a little stir crazy in LA, more than they did in Memphis, you see. Elaine was very conscious that they needed to get out and be outside and there were concerns that in LA it wasn’t as safe for them to do so. So she had these custom made sidecars -trailers, is what they really were- and we’d pile them in and go out into the hills or sometimes south to the desert and just, get some sunshine and some wind in our faces. It was very special to me, that companionship with her, I felt it was very -healing, for the both of us. And I think, well, I believe it helped me feel forgiven. That she would share that -share herself- with me, and I found myself seeking her company more and more. Elaine was really a wonderful person to enjoy things with, she didn’t have to say a lot but you were never in doubt about whether she was engaged or not, she was always engaged. In the smaller things just as much as the large, and those rides were really simple and joyous, and I was a little selfish, I suppose, about them. She was very much herself on them, she was doing them for her own enjoyment, her children’s, it was one of the few times I saw her be abrupt with photographers or even fans. She really carved out that time for enjoyment and I had seen that, recognized that. But since I didn’t have the tact that she had, I just went ahead and told Elvis that those were special to her. And I guess that suggested his addition would detract from that, because it would, it would have suddenly made it more -in a bad way. I think he knew how much she gave to him, how much of herself, and how much she allowed him to have his own things and not encroach, she was so rarely jealous, really seemed to understand he was a force of nature and one person couldn’t hold all that attention. So I think he wasn’t so much sulking over not being wanted, as he was struggling with trying to mimic her, and be ok with her having her own thing. And he just wasn’t built like that, he needed all of her most of the time, and that’s just, that’s just how it was.

Jerry Schilling (entourage): first off I had to find someone who would make those massive pull behind wagons for the kids. And they had to be real safe, obviously, and it was a feat of engineering, Elaine designing them and making them exist. I’ve never seen Elaine throw money at something like she did those side cars. That’s not including the legal bribes either. And those ones lasted for about five whole months and then EP up and says it’s gonna be a whole gang and there’s gotta be more. This time lots of little side cars instead of the two large ones that Miss Ann and Miss Elaine were using before. So, with the bike club they just sorta divvied the kids up between everyone and there were some of the folks like the Cooke’s who had kids of their own. So it was a big production but the end product was such a blast, it was worth it. I mean it just went to show that EP really didn’t want to do much of anything without hauling his family along, just wasn’t compelling to him without them. And the gang grew from there.

Barbara Stanwyck (co-star): Oh god, the Hollywood Hullabaloo -god those were good times. It got to where I used to look forward to the parties and the dinners, because those Presley’s were masters at hospitality, but the biker gang? Oh that was madness and the most childish thing I’d engaged in -in forever. I didn’t have much of a childhood, been on the grind since 13, and the idea of having something so silly and fun and wholesome and just doing it, appearances and logistics be damned? God that was, that was everything and I know I wasn’t the only one who went in a little timid and then became rabidly devoted to our group. Hollywood’s culture was changing back then, and there were lots of rivalries and splits between the old guard and the new and serious actors and entertainers and it could all get a little mean and sore. But in the bike club? All that went away, you were with people and it humanized your rivals and your exs and turned you all into kids for a minute. I know a lot of rifts got healed through that, just as many wrecks of motorbikes happened too, but I’d say it was worth it.

Elaine Presley (when asked by her daughter): it was on the set of Roustabout, I believe, when Barbara piped up and told Elvis she knew how to ride. There was this brief break between filming one day and you should have seen how fast he tossed her onto his bike and drove off to prove it. Giddy in a cloud of dust and the whole movie set squawking about when they’d be back. She handled it like a champ, and I made a metal note she was gonna be invited, I could tell by his face that she was the sort we were looking for

Marlon Brando (actor): Hollywood can get so insular, so claustrophobic with all these cliques and pretentiousness and such. Drains your life away, and in between projects that can be a very down time. I was contemplating not even staying in the city for breaks when I heard about this lady who had succeeded at making a judge pass a law legalizing these motorcycle carriages. It was so she could bike with her kids. All five or six of them. A lotta kids. And my first thought was: she is either the worst mother or the most devoted one on earth. And I was curious about the mechanics of it. And so I asked around and heard from Sinatra that it was Elvis Presley’s wife. Which made sense, that’s where the money to throw at judges came from but I’d never heard anything that gutsy about her before that. I mean really, there were the rumors about Cooke but that was the usual shit. By far, the most I heard about her was the betting pool at the Coconut Grove where they had a pool over who could cuckold Elvis Presley first. And other than that, it sounded like she was good at making bacon and babies, right? I had this opinion of them (the Presley’s) that they had no idea what they were in for in this town. There was this contempt and lecherous fascination everyone in the industry had for them -and they were so generous and gracious about it. I really had some contempt for them, for what I thought was their naïveté. Until the thing about the bike carriage. I realized that Mrs Presley must’ve been sorta ingenious, or else hired someone clever, and I sure wished I had a mother who cared to take me along like that, you know? I just kept thinking of those carriages, kept thinking how it had to be an avid motorcycle fanatic to design them and so I stopped by the shop that made them. Asked who designed them. They said Elaine Presley. I went to Hillcrest House. I wanted to meet someone who liked motorcycles and kids that much. I mean, she had to be a good sort of person with those interests, right? Course then it was, it was like meeting human sunshine. Heavily pregnant sunshine. Elaine showed me around the garage, or the kids did is more like what happened, gave me a tour and she said how her husband would be bummed he wasn’t there to meet me. And I didn’t mind him, I mean I would have liked to meet him, and sure there’d been the business of Rita and him before the marriage. But that was water under the bridge, she’d used him to make me jealous, all there was to it. She said he was sweet, actually that’s my word. Boring is the word by Rita used. It had me thinking about him back then, it’s like, shit, he was a baby, you know? And the women they ate him up, used him like Rita did, used him like a bull. Made sense why he wanted to be married so bad, have someone who wasn’t in it to eat him up. But uh, my interest was in the woman who made those sidecars. In parting Elaine said I was welcome to swing by again, that I really had to meet “her boy”. I realized she meant Elvis Presley, he was her boy, and that made sense. That's how it felt it should be. So I ended up opening my big mouth and assuring this sweet girl I’d swing by again in a day or two. And of course all the kids watching me swear to their mother, I had to come back. That’s how I came to be -embroiled- in the scheme.

Lamar Fike (entourage): Yeah, yeah she’d be puttering around in the garage a lotta afternoons, before dinner but after the market and sports games. She’d be under a bike or two and the kids would be passing her wrenches and she’d be drilling them on their times tables. Homeshcoolin’ ‘em while changin’ oil, it was the craziest, loveliest thing I’d ever seen. Course the kids were so responsive to it, she’d give ‘em little rewards when they got numbers right, let ‘em tighten a screw or whatever. And it taught ‘em a lot about life and putting in the work for all the fun they then went and had on the road with their mama and Thumper. They saw her getting dirty and frustrated sure, they also saw her stick with it, finish a job. And keep coming back even though she coulda passed it onto me or anyone else. And yeah, sometimes EP would come home from the studio a little early and find her out there and he’d just lay down right next to her, get his nice Hollywood clothes all filthy, passin’ her stuff and askin the kids ‘bout their day. Course then the kids they’d go through the times tables or the spelling or everything all over again, whatever she’d had ‘em just rehearse and whatever they were whining about doin’ with her they’d get all excited to show him. The progress that they had made, they liked showin off for him. He liked workin’ out there with her, so much so sometimes you’d have to leave ‘em be, clear the garage out, ya know. He found that attractive about her, the kerchief in her hair and the grease and shit, he didn’t mind, probably got in trouble for ruinin’ his clothes but he liked playing with her like that. He liked her like that. And yeah, one day Marlon Brando just sauntered through, pulled along by young Jesse who was showin’ him everything and Elaine really actin’ sorta star struck. She wagged her finger at me when escorting him out, I remember she said “don’t you tell on me, Lamar!” -and I thought it was the cutest thing as all she’d done was be nice to him, she was just real loyal and scared of hurtin’ EP. Course they all became friends later.

Ann-Margret (co-star): The angriest I’d ever seen Elaine was after my phone call with Elvis. She actually drove to my house in her rare spare time and to use an Elvis' turn of phrase, she lit into me. She said I was really insensitive and stupid for discouraging him about the club and that I’d made him feel burdensome and like she, Elaine, was trying to get away from him in the few days he had to be with them. Which we both knew I hadn’t meant it that way, but of course that’s how he took it and she had a right to be mad. I just didn’t expect her to be as angry as she was. I truly hadn’t seen her temper to that degree, had once doubted its existence. She was very even keeled about annoying or hurtful things, I mean she found out about the affair and just sorta shrugged, for god's sake. I thought that would be the ultimate test. But no, no this is what sent her fury skyrocketing, she really was so sensitive to him being wanted by them and never feeling like he crashed in on his own family when he came back. Even though that’s exactly what he did. He was a huge disruption every time he returned but that’s not how husbands should be, that’s now how homelife is done, so she simply forbade it from being taken that way. And I realized then just how much she loved him, not only would she give up every shred of indepence for him, she told me that if I ever slipped up like that again and made him feel unwanted by either of us, she’d make sure I never saw them again, or could ever even get in contact. I remember really thinking she was gonna jam the firepower up my tush a few times that conversation. It was like a Chanel No. 5 scented tornado and it shook me up good. I never tried to stick up for Elaine Presley again, she said she could do it herself, so I let her. Before the month was out, there was a biker gang and we had matching leathers and a name and over a dozen new additions. There was nothing serene about those rides ever again, but it pulled Elvis out of a terrible funk that I blamed him for, and she didn’t. And that was the difference. She just changed the atmosphere till Elvis Presley could glow again, whatever it took. For the mid 60’s it was the Hollywood Hullabaloos and she invented them for him.

Red West (entourage): Ok but you know why she did it, right? Elaine liked it quiet and she liked it all small and private but she knew with EP wanting in that she couldn’t let Marlon Brando into the girl gang and not her husband, right? Like, she knew that. It was so funny the night she told him at dinner that Brando had come to the house and she’s all “actually it was me he wanted to see” and EP is like an excited puppy all wanting details and he got about fit to burst with excitement over the idea of Brando joining the gang and then it was like, a switch went off in his brain. He went all pale and quiet, smile went away. You could tell he was visualizing his wife on a bike with Marlon Brando. I thought he’d break the table top he got so angry by this mental image he hadn’t even admitted to. It was hilarious. And Elaine you know, she never argued with him. He was so jealous of her, and she never argued like a lotta broads would have. He would be irrational and she’d say “ok”. Then suggest a loophole. Always worked, and the loophole was him bein’ in too. Startin’ a whole gang. Thumper hated the idea, told EP the same and it deflated him, man. But I’m tellin’ ya, Elaine knew if she was going to get what she wanted then she had to bring him along, let him in on the action when he was on his free time. Became a big ole deal after that, remembered as his bike club and stuff, but nobody remembers it was ‘cause Elaine Presley was a clever broad and wanted to go riding with her friends.

Elizabeth Mansfield (family friend): We were at the table and after his initial excitement you could see Elvis pondering the logistics of Marlon Brando taking a liking to his wife and right about when he started to idly push his food around on his plate Elaine pipes up casually and says “his voice is sorta annoying, though.” and Elvis snaps “whose?” and Elaine goes “Mr. Brando’s! His voice doesn’t seem to match the rest of him. But I guess I’m spoiled.” The rest of the dinner was spent with Elvis defending Brando’s dialect.

Jerry Schilling (entourage): ok, no, no it wasn’t just sidecars ok? This was an entire procession of bikes and trailers and stuff, eventually we’d take these massive packed dinners Elaine prepared ahead of time and we’d have the most luxurious picnics and bbqs up in the hills and sometimes there was even camping overnight, if enough of the security made it with us. Elvis and Elaine had already done a lot of riding up there themselves, just goin’ on dates up there long before Thumper and Elaine took to it when he was gone, so E and E, they had all these areas scouted out and would even say this area is good for camping or this one’s got a creek or there’s a good tree to relieve yourself behind. Course with how all over each other they always were, we used to joke there wasn’t much country around that they probably hadn’t used for coupling. Every tree ya pissed against ya had to wonder if it’d seen action.

Barbra Cooke Womack (wife of Sam Cooke): Some of my last, carefree memories of Sam before his death were from that summer when they started the Hullabaloos. We weren’t really good bikers, Sam collected cars, that was his hobby, but being a biker wasn’t the chief requirement for the gang. If you were bad at biking they gave you a helmet and called it a day. Elvis would say “you know where the accelerator is right?” and Sam would shoot back “It’s the break I’m worried about” and Presley would say “that’s no way to live”, and Sam would laugh and that’s the sorta attitude they were looking for. Had to be carefree. And really, it pulled Sam and I outta the depression we’d been in after the loss of our son. (Mr. and Mrs. Cooke’s two year old son drowned in their swimming pool the previous year.) Elaine’s still got a picture hung at Graceland of her and Sam and Elvis and Anne all jiving on a plank of plywood. They’d have these dance offs and the kids were judges, and they’d dance it out on this minuscule square of wood that they hauled up for the grill. Because yes, they hauled a grill up into the hills. Yeah, anyway, one of my favorite pictures is that one, the two teams facing off, Sam and Elaine versus Elvis and Ann, and behind them our daughter Andrea and their girl Ella putting on their best juror faces. Good times.

Ella Presley (daughter): Yes, Andrea and I, with Barbra (Stanwyck) sometimes advising us in matters of technical form, would judge these contests very seriously. Very serious business I’ll have you know, really, really took it gravely. And the parents, they tried to keep it serious for us, that is, as long as possible. Then it would just turn into all out jollification and everyone would start grooving.

Ann-Margret (co-star): they’d be blaring Solomon Burke and Chuck Berry and Otis, we’d get down to anything with a beat, and invariably the kids would end up joining in. Or Elvis would forget he was supposed to be facing off against Elaine and just end up cuddling up to the competition. Like, hey man we have high stakes here, burgers are at stake!

Marlon Brando: What was that -the uh, the Chuck Berry song, Elvis would always grab her and they’d just start swiveling together in perfect unison, ‘most playfully erotic thing I’d ever seen against the glow of a sunset on the hills. The kids were used to it. H-how’s it go? Something uh, something like uh-

Daisy Mae Presley (daughter): Mhmm, yeah, a staple was “You Never Can Tell” by Chuck Berry and daddy loved grabbing mama and acting it out. They weren’t broke teenagers when they married but he was obviously trying to relate to it.

Marlon Brando: uh, how’s it go, it’s uh, uh, (sings mumbling) “It was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished ‘em well,”…yeah, that one. Swiveling, the both of em, in the middle of the campsite. A free show, it was crazy.

Ella Presley (daughter): Jesse and I had some tournaments too, later on. And there was wrestling as well, I remember daddy would get into it with anyone, and then all the kids versus him and Jerry or him and Marlon. Just dancing was something the family did, came natural, that urge to move. Something about a bonfire and twilight brings it out of anyone I think, twilight -you could be anywhere at twilight. You can go back home in your mind.

Jackson Presley (second son): Actually, come to think of it, I’m pretty confident my first memory was sitting on a bike. In mama’s lap, had to be, and looking up at this rustling blob of pink. I later learned the blob was a massive bougainvillea vine and my dad was trying to climb the thorny thing to get back one of my sisters' hair bows. What? Oh, no, I-I don’t know if he was successful. The thorns make me doubt it but, he was stubborn ya know, so if he hadn’t gotten it I bet we’d still be there. So yes, I guess.

Marlon Brando (actor): I ended up liking Elvis, and Elvis’ family, infinitely more than I uh, I anticipated. Not really news is it? (chuckles) I did swing back by Hillcrest House and I got fed the best meal of my life and I got to watch the kids all interacting and I got to watch this famous couple interacting, and something about it really satisfied me. It was holy chaos everywhere, all the time, with a center of peacefulness at its core. Those were genuine, happy times, everyone was still putting effort into being a unit, in their family. Really the glory days of Elaine’s showmanship of you're going to base your judgments about motherhood on the children’s presentation and mental well being. I think if she got a medal, it should be for what she did in the 70’s, to hold them all together, but if you’re thinking of what is now remembered as that classic family, those were the years. Picture perfect, even when you got on the inside, and I wanted inside. You bet I did. Probably because there was always this wicked little undercurrent to keep things interesting, to keep that marriage’s integrity. I saw that, and I liked it. They were best friends, Elvis and Elaine, and the camaraderie floated down to their kids and to the rest of the gang. And I kept coming back for more. And soon I found myself and my precious bike saddled with a sidecar and a Presley child in it, spending my Los Angeles autumn’s getting a sore back from camping on the ground. No one else coulda made me do that, you’d have to pay me and even then, I dunno. But I did it for free, gave my free labor even, over five years, whenever they were in town.

Daisy Mae Presley (daughter): I got Marlon, always. Or almost always. Probably demanded him and raised hell unless I got him, I just really liked his personality. Everyone in the Memphis Mafia was so scared of pissing daddy off by somehow risking us or hurting us, God forbid. So they always drove like pussies when they had us, and there was no fun in that. And Rosalee was always a scaredy cat, so she was with daddy and I got Marlon. Used to ribb Rosalee about how daddy drove like a maniac and so she was always choosing the scariest ride but she always insisted she felt safer with him. And of course she was. We all were. I just didn’t care for safe, ha. Of course, now it’s notorious that a monster joined and was carting Jesse around for a whole summer before we learned he was Nevada Cost Nostra.

Elaine Presley (being asked by a reporter on the street): There were never mobsters in the bike club, Mr. Corleone himself owned nightclubs and his methods were unorthodox, that’s it. He was an entrepreneur. I met his wife once. I don’t I trust my children to mobster or thugs

Daisy Mae (daughter): He was totally a mafia guy. Like a real Italian mafia guy. He helped mama with the FBI wire taps at Graceland for the divorce case, his level of contacts were insane. Oh I…maybe I shouldn’t of said that I-

Marlon Brando (actor): Daisy was a unique kid even back then, never fit in with her sisters, acted like one of the brothers and was fearless. Pretty obsessed with her dad’s attention even back then, but she was always trying to earn it by being a daredevil just like him. It took about two years but once he realized I’d rather die than hurt one of his kids, Elvis gave the go ahead and Daisy and me, we’d take jumps and go over the dunes, catching some much air. The hypocrite was already doing it himself with Rosalee in the sidecar the whole time. But hey, he -he was protective, and the kids knew they were special, loved, all ya can ask for as a kid. That, and uh, that and your own motorcycle chauffeur, I guess.

Ella Presley (daughter): We knew things had really changed when it went from family drives and Mama and Tamale (the nickname the Presley children gave to Ann Margaret) taking us out, to daddy piling us all in the caddy and taking us to get leathers made. We had gear before, mama used to pack us in so well that we’d probably have survived a nuclear attack besides a wreck. (laughs) But yes, we got to stylize our own helmets. I got a plain black one and brought it back and painted it, because that’s what mama did with hers. Mine had like this flower crown of pink flowers on black, very hippy, according to Daddy. I was six, ok! And there wasn’t some gritty aspect to motorcycles in my mind, I’d grown up seeing mama on them in her skirts and lipstick, jewels hanging onto her ears for dear life when she picked up speed. A painted flower crown on my helmet seemed very fitting to me, alright? Give me some slack here.

Daisy Mae (daughter): Ella really had no idea about being badass and all that biker stuff that I don’t ever remember even talking to Marlon about but, sorta like osmosis, I got the general vibe that we were hot stuff. At five years old. (Rolls her eyes) But Ella, Ella was all pink and black like mama. And daddy was cooing and thinking it was the cutest thing. Then, then daddy had mama’s leather pants monogrammed. And Ella wanted that too. He melted on the floor in horror when she asked.

Barbara Stanwyck (co-star): so when this thing got serious, really got off the ground, that whole family turned out looking sharper and more coordinated than the Von Trapps. A lot groovier, too. And then came the kicker, Elaine had these leather trousers that, being Elaine, they looked phenomenal on her stems, and a cheeky EP monogrammed on the back pockets. Picture it. An initial per ass cheek, dark pink on black. Looked like a spanked butt, and of course her husband loved it, I’ve never seen him take such public appreciation for vulgarity on her like that, but who can blame him? You’ve seen the pictures, she’s scorching hot in them, and they’d save her from roadburn so, all was good. Till Miss Ella pipes up and says she wants some, too.

Ann-Margret (co-star): Always like mama that one, and watching and imitating her to a Tee. And most of the time it pleased Elvis endlessly, but this time, you could see him connecting the dots of his little girl being just like her mama who was his wife who he was so rabidly hungry for. And he barked that no way in hell could she get those leathers. And of course the poor little dear had no idea where she’d gone wrong. So he immediately chased her as she ran upstairs crying, making amends by helping her repaint the sidecar to look exactly like her mama’s bike. But no monogrammed leathers.

Billy Smith (cousin): EP got me this gorgeous, macho beauty of a motor, all bronze and black and masculine. And I couldn’t wait to take it for a spin up in the hills, outrace ‘em all. Then the day of the first outing I went outside and saw I got saddled with a pink and black little sidecar hooked up to my bike and just like that, my Isle of Man dreams were over.

Marlon Brando (actor): I got pretty excited about this, uh, this whole thing, I was itchin’ to go. Didn’t get what all the fuss was about. I’d seen Elvis hanging around the house, I could see Elvis going a million miles a minute wanting to get on with it but then he’d have to have it picture perfect, so the outing would get canceled till the cars got swapped with the bikes till they matched, the colors, the aesthetic had to please him and it would take a big reshuffle and -all that. I got pretty sick of it, like -when’s this gonna begin? Day before we had been almost ready, then someone forgot the gramophone and that caused a lotta commotion and by the time it was solved the rain had come. So the next morning, we swear we are all going, hell or high water. It’s happening, we were all burned out on making it perfect, just wanted to joy ride, right?

Barbara Stanwyck (co-star): I’ll never forget that morning everyone was loading up and mounting their bikes and Elvis pauses by Marlon’s and starts showing this funny look on his face the longer he inspects the sidecar and Marlon’s bike.

Ann-Margret (co-star): I saw him reach out his hand and sorta thumb at the orange stripe on Marlon’s fender, it didn’t go with Daisy’s purple sidecar, you see.

Barbara Stanwyck (co-star): and then Marlon, in a voice he usually saved for the stage snarled- “leave Papa’s bike alone, Mopey” and Elvis just -obeyed. It was the funniest thing ever, he used Elaine’s nickname for him and Elvis didn’t bat an eye.

Ann Margaret (co-star): E clutched his hand to his chest like he’d been burned by the metal and went and got on his bike without another word. We actually made it out of the gates that day. The rest was history.

Finis~

Thank y’all so much for reading! This was an entirely new style of storytelling for me and I’d really love to hear your thoughts and get your suggestions if there are other topics you think might be interesting to be explored in this way. My very big thanks for sweet Christi for holding my hand through this and giving her feedback.

One of the things that interests me with this whole series is painting a dichotomy between the vulnerable and intimate voyeurism we get to experience with the one shots, verses how this couple is perceived by their associates and the world at large. It just makes it more real for me and I hope it did for you.

Also, as a side note, you may have noticed I tried to keep some of these individuals as rather unreliable narrators, their prejudices or existing recollections of Elvis’ real life being a bit… biased… one way or the other. I suppose I keep outing myself on who I’m not fond of in the MM. oops

Xoxoxo 🌹 Marina

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@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

[legendary-defender-of-fandoms]

Because I’m stuck in the Rot, More Thoughts about Wreck it Ralph

I know, I know. It’s just a stupid kids’ movie about a bunch of stupid video game characters going on stupid adventures and making stupid jokes. This REALLY isn’t something worth obsessing over, especially with the myriad of dumpster fires that is The Real World right now. Who gives a shit about cartoons when there’s at least one active genocide, the US is going back to the Bad Old Days, and trillionaires exist?

But the thing is . . . I DO care. I care so much. And I know I shouldn’t.

I was the ABSOLUTE last person who should’ve liked the first Wreck-it Ralph. I knew no one in the cast by name or reputation, I missed the majority of the video game references (like not realizing Tapper was a real-ass game from the real-ass world until much later), and I only went to the opening weekend showing because I was excited for Paperman (the short that played prior to the movie, not the video game character). I told myself I was going to walk out as soon as the movie bored me. I thought I’d be there ten minutes.

And then, the movie started.

By the time the camera pushed in on the Fix-it Felix Jr. screen & we entered the world of the video game characters, I was glued to my seat. But it wasn’t until we faded in on Ralph sitting in his first Bad Anon meeting, pouring his heart & soul out to his fellow Bad Guys (and the audience) that I realized he was me.

I mean, not literally. Obviously. But as the movie kept playing, I kept feeling like someone had ripped out my soul & put it on the big screen. There have been other Disney characters I’ve liked or related to for surface-level similarities (She likes books? I like books! That kind of stuff).

But Ralph hit SO MUCH deeper. He was this guy feeling stuck in a role he wasn’t sure he was meant to play, feeling literally AND metaphorically out of place even in a world where he SHOULD have felt at home, tired of ALWAYS being compared to someone else and found lacking because HIS talents didn’t match the OTHER’S talents, desperate for someone, ANYONE, to see what he had to offer and say “You have value. You matter.” And there were other similarities - the short temper, the clumsiness/tendency towards accidentally breaking stuff, the gap in the top front teeth, etc. But it was the core of his character - feeling lost, being secure in his identity but looking for someone to see him & accept him - that truly resonated with me.

And the rest of the movie. I could talk about what was IN the movie, but I want to talk about what WASN’T in the movie. Like the Bad Anon scenes. It was silly because of who was there, but they played it DEAD serious in the movie. This was not a “D’oh hoh hoh, silly support group for silly people because mental health is for losers” scene - they paid support groups & mental health the respect they deserve! And it was inspiring that Ralph STAYED IN Bad Anon even after getting his “Happily Ever After.” Sure, it was probably just meant to be a framing device, but I saw it as mental health positivity. And there were spin-off short stories that carried the idea of Ralph staying in Bad Anon, further reinforcing the idea that support groups are helpful & there’s nothing wrong with reaching out for help.

And for a plus-size character, Ralph has a surprising lack of fat jokes aimed at him in the first movie. I think Vanellope has one line about him having a go-kart “hidden in the fat folds of his neck,” but I think that’s because she wasn’t allowed to say “Well, unless you have a go-kart hidden in your ass crack.” And there are scenes in the first act when Ralph is clearly too big to comfortably walk through the Niceland Apartment or when his tummy bulges out when he straightens his stolen Hero’s Duty armor, but I saw those more as “Ohh, this is a visual representation of how Ralph feels out of place because this world wasn’t made to accommodate someone like him and/or he’s not prepared for what he’s about to get into” as opposed to “D’oh Ho Ho, he’s FAT.”

It was just so refreshing to see a movie that didn’t go for as many cheap shots as it probably could’ve. Ralph was treated with so much respect in the first movie, and it felt so nice to see someone who I resonated with so thoroughly not being treated like the butt of the joke. The movie became an instant favorite, and Wreck-it Ralph took over a special place in my heart & my brain. On bus rides home from college I’d be on my laptop making music videos about Ralph & Vanellope (NOT SHIPPING THEM AT ALL!!!!!!! I used songs clearly meant to convey familial love like “BBBFF” and “You’ll Be In My Heart”) I eagerly waited for Disney to give us console games based on Sugar Rush & Hero’s Duty (and yes, I DID buy the micro Fix-it Felix Jr. cabinet when it was offered at Walmart, and if there is ever a full cabinet game offered I WILL be the first to buy it, build it, and set every record possible for a cabinet game). When Motorchickensmile published their Love Bug fanfic on Fanfiction.net & posted their art on DeviantArt, I was HOOKED! If that was the ONLY sequel we ever got to Wreck-it Ralph, I would’ve died happy.

Then Disney announced the official sequel. And like the rest of the world, I was PUMPED! A little confused because Ralph didn’t have anything to do with the Internet and it seemed odd to get the arcade characters out of the arcade, but I was hopeful. After all, the first movie was beloved by old school gamers, new gamers, and folks who only knew Pokémon (I.e. me). SURELY they’d know what they were doing with online gaming!

And then I saw the sequel.

There are a lot of scenes from Wreck-it Ralph that live in my head. I saw the movie at least 4 times in theaters, and when the movie went on sale I was there the day it dropped to buy it & put the digital copy on my iPod. But you know that scene when Ralph destroys Vanellope’s go kart while she’s stuck in the tree, and she’s BEGGING him not to, SCREAMING in agony as he obliterates the first thing he ever made that someone saw value in, the promise of her future, a symbol of their shared outcast status but still being worthy? And you can SEE the misery in Ralph’s face, how he HATES doing this, but keeps going because he thinks he has to for the greater good?

Yeah, that’s what Ralph Breaks the Internet did to my perception of Wreck-it Ralph.

Gone were any traces of nuance, maturity, introspection, or even basic intelligence. NOW Ralph is a gross idiot who is SUPER clingy to Vanellope, regularly abandons his game during arcade hours (which, in case folks forgot from the first movie, was a SUPER BIG DEAL THAT COULD’VE ENDED HIS WORLD & KILLED THE NICELANDERS), throws temper tantrums & blubbers like a baby when things don’t go his way. Ralph goes OUT OF HIS WAY to endanger Vanellope just to keep her close, and he NEVER holds himself accountable! The first movie was all about Ralph learning that self worth can’t be measured in medals, but in the sequel he is CONSTANTLY flashing his cookie medal like it’s supposed to mean something. Don’t even get me STARTED on all the fat jokes. And even BEFORE Ralph ruins Sugar Rush, you get the sense that while HE’S obsessed with Vanellope & their friendship, Vanellope is feeling suffocated by this relationship & is desperate to get away from him.

The press releases said the movie was supposed to be about friends growing apart and going away but keeping the bonds of friendship. But to me? The whole thing felt like Disney was saying “Hey, YOU. Yeah, the IDIOT who thought they LIKED this giant man-baby moron? You’re super clingy and stupid. Don’t bother making friends - you’ll smother them with your attempts to bond. They can do so much better than you, and you’re only holding them back. Now, who wants to watch us add insult to injury by stuffing this gorilla in a dress designed for a 14-year-old princess?”

Again, I don’t think that was the INTENDED message of the movie. But it was just SO mean-spirited, especially when compared to the uplifting messages of the first movie. Which I guess was inevitable for a movie trying to be about the Internet, but still.

So, yeah. I had to step away from the franchise. And it HURT! This story - this character - was such a huge part of my life for years, and I had to cut it out. There were periods of time when I’d forget about the franchise for a bit, or have More Important Things to worry about (like that global pandemic, the nut job & his cult trying to overthrow the US government, normal life stuff). But then I’d be hit with a thought about the first movie out of nowhere, and I’d be happy until I remembered how the sequel killed all of its goodwill.

To this day I still have mixed feelings about Ralph. I get excited when he & Vanellope are included in multi-IP projects, then get sad when I remember the sequel, then get mad at myself for getting excited, then get disappointed when I see more Vanellope merch than Ralph merch, then get mad again when I remember how badly the sequel burned me. AND HE’S NOT REAL!!! I’m being driven insane by a guy WHO DOESN’T EVEN EXIST!!!

When Disney announced their version of Animal Crossing, Dreamlight Valley, Ralph & Vanellope were two of the characters featured in the trailer. Two years later we got Vanellope, but the closest we’ve gotten to Ralph is an in-game chess piece. Meanwhile Vanellope’s getting some great interactions with Mike & Sully of Monsters Inc, with Sully taking a paternal shine to Vanellope. And now I’m constantly begging the Dreamlight Valley social medias for updates about Ralph. I’m excited to see him, but also worried because I don’t know if we’ll get the nuanced Bad Guy from Wreck-it Ralph or the clingy buffoon from Ralph Breaks the Internet. I know John C. Reilly won’t be voicing him (because he NEVER voices Ralph outside of the movies & Once Upon a Studio), but I’m also kind of hoping he will? I don’t know if I want my avatar to hug him, or punch him, or leave him stranded in the Vitalys mines, or love-bomb him with cookie medals, or just leave him off mode. I have a space saved right in front of my in-game house for HIS in-game house, but I might just spend the rest of the game on Eternity Isle so I never have to see him.

And again, this is all for some WHO IS NOT REAL!!!!! I know I have problems, I KNOW there’s SO MUCH MORE to worry about than an imaginary guy with ginormous hands! I WISH I could just not care about him, or his movie, or any fictional stories! I WISH I could go on a Disney Cruise and NOT look for his face in the Art of Animation wall art or in the kids’ area wall art! I WISH I could stop looking for him in Disney Lorcana, or mystery mini lines, or multi-IP books! But I also know I can’t. If I let myself give up on him, if I let Disney WIN? He’ll be Forgotten. Locked in that vault with no chance for redemption. There have been too many other characters to suffer that fate. Like Oswald. And I can’t let characters like Oswald or Ralph be forgotten.

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

"Nobody's perfect" is such a common phrase, but depending on how it is used it can be very toxic.

I grew up in a very religious Mormon community with strict standards. For as long as I remember, I was told that people sin every day and so we have to repent of our sins every day as well. That's what "nobody's perfect" meant to them. Instead of the phrase being used to console or encourage, I mostly heard it as a way of passing judgement. "So-and-so is great, but nobody's perfect. They have plenty of shortcomings they should be working on as well." Many of my family, friends, and neighbors did everything they could to hide their own "sins" while looking down on others for whatever "sins" they must be committing, because everyone apparently sins every day.

And that's what I grew up believing. I thought I had to be perfect, because the goal was to get through the day sin free, or at least that's how I saw it. If I did everything I was told to do by my parents, teachers, and church leaders then I would be considered a good person, right? Actually, when I was a little older I learned that my unconscious thoughts were apparently full of sin as well! And my human desires were also sinful. And anything I did purely for myself was considered selfish. I remember being taught multiple times that there were good, better, and best uses of my time. Reading a book for fun was good, reading a book to learn and improve myself was better, and reading scriptures was best. So now I had to feel guilty for my unconscious thoughts I couldn't control, my body doing what it was built to do, and I had to feel guilty for having any fun or putting myself first.

As an adult I realized all of what I'd believed to be true my entire upbringing was bullshit. There is absolutely no way any person could avoid "sinning" if everything about me was considered wrong the way they made it sound. And because I wasn't perfect, because "nobody's perfect", I was made to feel like I had to make myself into as near a perfect being as I could manage in order to deserve even a morsel of acceptance or praise. But even that little bit of value I'd earned for myself wasn't worth anything because I would be reminded again and again that "nobody's perfect", meaning I'm not perfect, meaning I hadn't really earned anything in the end. All this made me feel like I was worthless and I couldn't do anything to change that.

Everything changed for me when I started learning about emotional abuse. My father was a diagnosed narcissist and he was very good at being emotionally abusive, so I had to learn how to deal with that. While I was reading about narcissistic abuse, I also realized that the religion I grew up in used the same tactics. I learned at church that everything about me was sinful. Literally. The list of sins in endless. I eventually realized that if you twist anything a certain way you can make it look like a sin, which then gives you a reason to look down on anyone who is committing that "sin." So no matter how "good" I was, I would never be good enough to anyone who was looking at me through the lens of "nobody is perfect because we are all sinners."

I remember sitting in church next to my mom one day when a woman who lived down the street was speaking. She was describing how she always felt like she wasn't good enough, she belittled herself and her accomplishments, put herself down, and made a public display of how guilty she felt and how that was why she was so humble and could feel closer to Christ. I looked at my mom and whispered, "It sounds like she's been emotionally abused." From the typical Mormon perspective, what this woman was expressing showed how humble she was. But now I could recognize that from another perspective what she said showed signs that she was a victim of emotional abuse.

Alan Watts said it better than I ever could: "Christianity institutionalized guilt as a virtue." I was taught to feel guilty even for just existing in order to make me feel indebted to God at church and my narcissistic father at home. Once I recognized how toxic that way of thinking was I couldn't bring myself to even pretend I was religious anymore. Now my way of thinking is more along the lines of, "Nobody is meant to be perfect, which is what makes everyone perfect in their own way." Instead of needing to be good enough, I'm learning to recognize the inherent value in everyone, including myself.

[pocket-poly]

New relationship energy refers to a state of mind experienced at the beginning of relationships, typically involving heightened emotional and sexual feelings and excitement.

NRE is like a drug. AND NOT A POLYAM EXCLUSIVE THING... No joke. It comes in and gives you positive hopeful rose-colored glasses of lust, energy, and mushyness... goodness know I have had my fair share of toxic highs that sent me on worldwinds of adventures but looking back I'd like to punch myself for some choices I made.

Sometimes, I realize when it's passing from NRE to an ORE (old relationship energy) comfort zone... and it freaks me out... I wonder if it's NRE settling down and the powerful drug is losing the *high* it brings with it or am I losing the connection with someone? Or as i have called it before "The shiny wears off".

It's scary most of the time. The fight or fight and fear of hurt and heartache often gets me overthinking. This time it wasn't scary, because I can't yet say I have felt a shift... it just felt comfortable. Since the start. Like a safe landing. Almost as if all my chaos and madness were some sort of obstacle courses to complete, and he was waiting for me at the finish line.

It's been, "officially"

12 month... 52weeks... 365 days... 8760 hours...

ONE YEAR

And HE has made the biggest impact in my life in that time.

I have been loved in ways I have thought only existed in fairy tales and movies. I have been held, kissed, and touched in ways that have taught me to believe and see my own beauty. How my value, my existence & my worthy aren't tied to my abilities to do or give but simply existing is beautiful.

This "whole ass man" as my therapist calls him has spent the last year pouring his love into every Crack, scar, and emotional wound he can find. Simply holding space for ME to do the work, for ME to heal, for ME to grow. And yet he tells me with tears in his eyes, how much "I" have changed "his" life.

I wish I had more vocabulary, to explain the depths of what this last year with him has meant to me & given to me. But I lack the words and language to capture it.

I've experienced so many types of relationships, of different dynamics, and love in many forms. But this... love...energy... connection... has changed my expectations of what I'm willing to accept and has shown me I AM WORTH those expectations.

He came into my life when I was experiencing a drastic shift in my life. My own life was experiencing an Autumn with Upheaval in my blood family & cutting ties there, Upheaval & remodeling my home & home life, ending of relationship a long-term relationship with someone I still loved but I needed to let go of, and another fly by pass with a comet relationship. He... just showed up, and patiently stood here and began listening, cheering and reminding me. "You are amazing"

I have never once in the past year questioned his love, his motive, his feelings, or my place in his life. I had no idea how secure attachment felt before him and how to feel safe in love. Loavingmpeople always meant sacrifice hurt and forgiving.. this is so different, I'm thankful every day I get to experience feeling loved and valued and cared for in the many ways he has done so and chooses to continue to.

We have matching penny Keychains. They have a heart around 2022 on the front and 10/17 stamped on the back. I got them for us on Valentine's Day. I aim for small and highly emotional valued things, simply because I have a large amount of respect for metamores and don't like flashy things.

For our 1 year, I got this washer to go with the penny. It's the long/lat of where we met. And the back of the washer says, "started here" It is simple, and small but so meaningful.

I made a huge leap a year ago... I had no idea it would be one of the best and most impactful choices of my entire life. But it's probably one of the best things to have ever happened to me.

[battendownthewhatsit]

I am really intrigued by the big Plot Choice in OFMD S2!

Spoilers for OFMD S2 (and S1, I suppose) under the cut

--specifically, the way the show has set up Queen Zheng Yi Sao as the now- biggest *external* threat to the Revenge crew (the internal threats are arguably worse but Not The Point here!)

Because last season , the Major External Threat was The Fucking English Empire, with the Badminton brothers as their Dragon. Which meant simple villains who were easy to Boo-- BOOOOO the Empire! BOOOO the hypernormative bullies! This is a good easy Comic Bad Guy for our scrappy crew, overwhelming in power but morally in the clear wrong--they could just leave our crew alone (..to violently harass naval traffic, but like the victims in WWDITS, those aren't Real Characters here) , and they are even, both in the show and IRL, largely responsible for Stede and Blackbeard as pirates even existing. Plus it's easy to make them ridiculous losers. Excellent comic villains, no complaints intended by me, dunk on the British Empire forever.

But now, S2? The definite Big Threat going forward is going to be THE PIRATE QUEEN. Who is competent, and effective, and makes wonderful soup.

The Pirate Queen, who saved their lives and gave them every chance to fit in on her crew, mostly because she liked Olu. Because he was kind, and gentle, and she values that.

The Pirate Queen who's about a million times more disruptive to the social order, the overarching problem in the series, then Stede has ever dreamed of being. Who was, yes, a danger to the Revenge crew after the mutiny, but who was also willing to negotiate that, was doing so as they made their escape, and who had definitely earned the trust to make the conversation at least worth trying. Only they chose not to trust her, and made their escape, and considerably screwed her over in the bargain.

I don't for a moment think Zheng Yi Sao's going to lose all her trust in her crew and spiral like Blackbeard did; she's way too established and self assured for that. I don't even think she's going to make hunting the Revenge a big part of her usual working day (though pirate culture pretty much requires her to let it be known they're her enemies now). But they're definitely going to meet again, maybe several times, and this time it can't be as friends.

And , like with running out on Mary, that's totally on Stede. And I think that Stede is finally starting to really realize that his whole "dump people and run" maneuver is genuinely fucked up and hurts people-- he seems to feel really lousy about it even as he's doing it-- but he hasn't figured out a new maneuver yet (even though he's talked about other ways often enough! a very realistic hypocrisy..)

anyway something something about how last season was mostly about Stede finding the courage to Be Himself without apology, saying Goodbye to his old externally imposed roles (some goodbyes being more sword-based than others) , and it looks like this one is going to be about learning how to be True to Yourself while needing to Apologize Lots Actually; the way more complicated balancing act of needs and commitments with people who do have reasonable expectations him, instead of the easily-hateable and irrelevant Badmintons, who he could kill without guilt.

(I mean also it's gonna be very very funny. I hope Buttons changes shape several times and also bites more people. But there's gonna be a Plot and Themes and so on too, yk yk )

[are-my-ocs-ta]

AITA for being a manipulative liar and almost killing a lot of people?

Several months ago, I (16NB) got transported to another universe. I was confused at first, but after meeting a few people there I realized what was going on: I'd been sent to the world of a fantasy TV series I'd just finished pirating watching the last season of a few days before. I've been a lonely recluse painfully aware that everyone around me considers me irritating and/or not worth knowing since I was in kindergarten, so I was obviously overjoyed by this chance to use my metaknowledge to become a genuine hero and befriend my favorite characters. I decided I should conceal both that this world was fictional in my world (not wanting to make anyone have an existential crisis) and what I knew about the future (in case I accidentally set off a butterfly effect that ruined everything). All of the points at which characters died or were badly traumatized were towards the end of the show originally, and I'd started off in an inconvenient location that meant I couldn't do much to set up a better outcome right off the bat, so my plan was to integrate myself into the main cast and keep everything recognizable and "on track" until I was in a position to stop all the deaths and trauma from happening.

My plan started falling apart shortly after I joined up with the main cast. First off, I'd already really liked one of the main characters- I'll refer to her as H (16F)- and been super pissed off about how the writers killed her off for shock value in the finale, and hanging around with her every day, uh... look, let's just say tall, muscular adrenaline junkies like her are my type. I barely made it three days before throwing myself into a supernatural extreme weather event because I thought it'd impress her and figured I could use my metaknowledge to come out unscathed, which I did, but I almost got one of her friends (42M) killed in the process. We managed to fix the situation quickly, H actually was a lot more impressed by me after the fact, and I don't think her friend realized how close he was to dying, but I still felt bad about it, you know? I did make sure to keep the others well out of the way the next times I joined H in running headfirst into obvious danger, don't worry, and both of us survived all of those times (again, used my metaknowledge) and got most of the protagonists' objectives accomplished in probably a quarter of the time it took in canon. Doing that also kind of cut her friends out of the vast majority of the "plot," but hey, they were in a lot less danger that way, plus I got to spend more time with H!

Anyway, the end goal of the original show was getting H and her friends across the continent to an ancient portal-creating machine (the only one in existence) that was the only way for them to return to their home city and be reunited with their families, which was where the second big problem started. The closer we got to it, the more regularly I started having dreams about an entity that kept warning me I had to destroy the machine. This entity, I'll call them B (0?NB?), looked almost exactly like me, just unhealthily thin and gaunt, and told me how inserting myself into the story had broken a lot more things than I realized and that using the machine would open the door for ancient horrors from the spaces between realities to flood into this world. Since no character with B's name or the ability to enter people's dreams existed in the original show, and there certainly weren't any eldritch horrors in it, I brushed it off as a weird recurring nightmare and didn't tell anyone about it.

When we reached the machine, we set up camp for the night with the intent of calibrating and activating it in the morning, and I waited for the others to fall asleep before heading up to the machine. In the show, there was a demon stuck inside the machine that was freed when H activated it and killed her, which I obviously wasn't going to let happen, so my plan was to exploit a canonical loophole in how the machine worked to trap said demon outside of time and space while everyone else was asleep. I'd have saved H's life and she'd never even know that she would've died! It would've gone perfectly if B hadn't started talking to me while I was powering up the machine (the first time they'd appeared outside of my dreams), and when I tried to ignore what I thought was just a sleep-deprivation-induced hallucination they took control of my body. Things got a little hazy after that, but what I know is that B finished the process of trapping the demon, then destroyed the machine while screaming about how they couldn't let this world be destroyed after I'd already "desecrated" it. H and her friends came running and demanded to know what was going on, and surprisingly, B actually explained the situation.

It turns out that in my original world, I'd spent years trying to work out ways to send myself to a different universe where I could have friends and do something meaningful with my life. A few weeks before the events I previously described, I'd figured out a way to access the power of ancient horrors lurking in the spaces between universes (long story, I got desperate enough to steal a bunch of books about the occult and related subjects from my grandparents) to manipulate the "rules" of the multiverse against itself and force it to transport me to whatever universe I wanted. The catch was that this process seriously weakened the "boundaries" of the universe in question and meant openings into it- like the portal the machine would've made- could be used as an entrance for these horrors, but I brushed that off, figuring the machine wouldn't be open long enough for anything from outside to break through. Before I started the ritual to send me to this show's universe, I additionally reworked the ritual to remove my memories of all of that so I could enjoy my new life without any guilt. The only problem was that I hadn't adequately planned around a canonical "glitch" in this world's magic system, which resulted in the creation of a new entity that was an embodiment of the memories I'd cleaved away. That entity was B.

H and her friends refused to believe any of that, so they tied me down, then expelled B from my body and killed them. They were all so relieved to see I was okay, and H finally told me she loved me, but... I'd regained all of those memories when they killed B. I remembered everything I'd done, I knew I was right to feel guilty about it, and I knew I didn't deserve to escape accountability. So I confessed that everything B had said was true, that I'd knowingly put their world at serious risk of being consumed by various cosmic horrors- which would've killed (or worse) everyone on the planet if B hadn't stopped it- as well as inadvertently prevented H and her friends from getting to go home and be reunited with their families, all because I wanted to live out a twisted fantasy of being a beloved hero. I fled without waiting to hear how they'd take that and have been in self-imposed exile for the last month, bitterly wishing I'd just tried to figure out a way to be happy in my own world. Apparently they're still looking for me, but the village I'm currently living in is in an isolated part of the world that nobody would stand a chance of finding me in, and I intend to stay here for the rest of my life. I figure the least I can do is ensure I have to face some kind of punishment for what I've done, and this seems like an adequate way to do it.

I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, but: AITA?

[herald-divine-hell]

The Character of Amayian and His Personality

So, I recently came to a realization that a lot of people might be entirely confused or bewildered by Amayian’s character - with some perception that he is entirely perfect, his trauma is built only to give him sympathy and shock value, and that his compassion toward others is played up in the manner of incel-like behavior. I specifically received an anon that rubbed me the wrong way, and entirely mischaracterized Amayian’s character and growth to a false version of him that never truly did exist. 

Let us start with the first point made. Is Amayian perfect? In my view, he is not, nor had I ever attended him to be perfect. There is plenty of evidence that shows he is incapable of being perfect - perhaps the biggest is his social ineptitude. Amayian had constantly be closeted and sheltered as an early age, picked almost on exclusively by his relatives based upon numerous factors - he was slow to anger, easily trusting, and to some extent his skin tone played a heavy role in that regard as well. Alongside that, his father’s example of reclusively of emotions, coupled with the determination set up by his mother and father to handle his powers in a subdued manner, implemented a severe level of inability to react socially to events or people. 

I refer to this as the Cutting of the Heart which many of my characters go through - both in the Dragon Age Fandom and my own personal writing -  emotions are a significant part of the human experience, and almost everyone on Earth has felt certain emotions. Now the understanding of those emotions and feeling such emotions are completely different, and I took examples from many cultures throughout history who view stoicism and repression of emotions as an ideal to demonstrate the dangers of particularly imposing a emotionless life upon children can have severe inhibitors emotionally, but as well as mentally. 

Yet, his magical abilities also permitted some level of political benefit for his family. Amayian had an acute awareness of manipulating fellows dreams, which allowed some information being shuffled down from him when he dreamwalked. His uncle in particularly used such an ability to cause him to be entirely mentally dependent on his family’s praise, tying down to his self-worth. He became not a child nor a man, but a tool for political machinations. If he failed them - which his family insinuated and Amayian mentally confirmed through the death of his mother - he would be casted away and forsaken. Of course Amayian would strive to be perfect in every regards, but the fact is that he does constantly fail, and it is a lesson taught by Leliana that failure itself is not a terrible thing, but how we react to the presence of failure that is important. 

Now to Amayian’s personality in regards to having “nice guy syndrome”, and in truth I cannot find anything that depicts Amayian as a “nice guy”. In truth, it is very much the opposite, especially if you read many of my writings of him. Not once does Amayian perceive any benefit or reward to being nice, especially in regards to receiving sexual favors from someone like Leliana. Amayian does not even think like that at all. The very conception that others would find him attractive never dawns on him, and instead he perceives the requests of such things as entirely on his ability to provide a service - to be a tool. In truth, when he began to realize that he may have romantic feelings to Leliana, he instantly disengages with the possibility, and is in truth frightened on the idea that Leliana would even find him a romantic suitor, especially given that Leliana and the Warden at the time were in a romantic relationship. It is partly the reason why he flees after Denerim, as much because he once more “failed” to save the Warden, just as he “failed” to save his mother, as it is that as long as he stays away from Leliana, his affection would remain quiet, and that she would never have to burden herself with someone like him. 

Now, how does that exemplify a “nice guy” or a “incel” relationship? When he does become part of a relationship, he is entirely dedicated toward Leliana or his partner, depending on the au, and would strive to do their desires at every turn. That is in no way a depiction of a “nice guy”, and once again shows a misinterpretation of his character and his actual relationship with Leliana. 

If anyone wishes to fully understand the basis of Amayian’s identify, I would highly recommend watching Violet Evergarden, where her character was very much an inspiration for Amayian as a person. 

[why-is-james-on-here]

I just finished a shitty Christian fantasy novel. Rant time!

I wish I could start this review with some snarky comment making fun of how awful this book is. I wish I could talk about how it murders the English language on every page or how it made me feel mental anguish on par with physical pain. I can’t though. If Leviathan was the worst book ever, that would be something. Instead this book is… empty. It’s a tale based in Christian mythology, all about the life of Noah when he was a young man, long before God told him to build the Ark so he could escape the Great Flood. It takes place in a world filled with angels, giants, dragons (actually dinosaurs in this world), and at the center of it is a man chosen by God to do great things. Does that sound cool? Well, yeah, I thought so too. There are 2 issues (at least 2 big issues, there’s plenty of small ones) that prevent this book from being… anything. 1: The author believes that all of this is literally true. He genuinely believes that the Earth is only a few thousand years old and dinosaurs lived with humans in Biblical times. That’s hardcore stupid on its own, then you realize it means that R.M. Huffman believes this book is all true. Maybe parts of it are fictional in his mind, but which parts? It’s impossible to say. Imagine if J.R.R. Tolkien wrote The Lord of the Rings under the impression it was real. He wouldn’t be writing it to make interesting characters or a cool world to explore or a story with heart, he’d be writing it with religious reverence. He’d be copying something someone else already made without any new ideas or themes added and expecting everyone else to admire it as much as he does. And if anyone doesn’t admire it, it’s because they hate God and Christians. No need for self-reflection or taking criticism, because this isn’t actually a fantasy novel (in his mind). The issue here is not that the author has different beliefs than me, or even that he’s clumsily pushing them in his book. The issue is that there is nothing here beyond his beliefs, which brings me to the next point. 2: There are maybe 6 events that transpire over the course of more than 400 pages. This isn’t an adventure, or even a series of adventures, it’s just Noah. Noah hanging around at home and basking in everyone talking about how great he is and how he’s destined for great things. Noah going to get help for his town without running into trouble. Noah coming up with brilliant plans to defeat villains such as “If we want to kill the Leviathan we have to break it’s skull open with an ax!” Great plan, mate, no one else could have come up with that. That might be fine if Noah had any personality or interesting things to say/do, he doesn’t though. He’s just the hero because the author made him the hero, and the author made him the hero because the Bible did. There’s a final battle near the end which, to be fair, isn’t half bad. It would be better if the protagonist actually did things instead of just knowing how to win without effort, but y’know, I’ve read worse. The only real entertainment value it has is to remember that the author believes this is all literally true. He’s an insane dipshit who believes humans and dinosaurs lived together, this isn’t a fantasy world for him, its existence is a religious fact, never to be questioned. And if anyone does question it, they must be attacked/silenced. So I can’t even act like this book is the worst thing ever. I want to channel my inner Roger Ebert to roast it until it’s reduced to ashes so I can scatter them on the wind. I can’t though. And even if I could, this book isn’t worth it. There is nothing here, not even anything to mock. I know Christian conservatives would say that dog shit tasted like candy if the dog claimed to love Jesus first, so I expect at least some hate for this negative review. I don’t care though. This book isn’t bad because it’s Christian, it’s bad because it’s bad.

[lesbianlovelanguage]

Thunder in Our Hearts

my contribution to the flood of fix-it fics <3 read it on AO3 here!

Part Two

-----

Billy woke up the first time in who knows how long. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know how much time he had been in this hellscape, where the only thing he could do was replay his memories like a horror movie made specifically to torture him. There were only so many times he could watch his mom leave, the disappointment on his father’s face morph into violent anger, Max crying over his dying body. 

There were only so many times, and he was terrified when he realized he wasn’t sure what he would do when he finally snapped. He’d hurt so many people already, had been hurt so many times before. What new hell would he unleash unto the world? He was afraid, and tired and a million other things he couldn’t process, so he had slept.

Except he wasn’t asleep anymore and he wasn’t sure why.

He opened his eyes to find that he was in the same world he had been in since he died, a twisted version of Hawkins covered in vines and ash. Though he wasn’t sure why or where he was going, he found himself walking through downtown Hawkins. He knew it was the Shadow Monster’s will, and there was no point in fighting it anymore. Max was safe. Her nerdy friends were safe. He couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. Not here, trapped in what he could only assume was hell.

He passively watched the world go by as the Shadow Monster directed his body, trying to empty his mind again before the memories could start. It wasn’t very long before his body stopped and he tried to look around some. Most of this place looked the same, especially the further you got into the woods. The oppressive blue light, the vines that slitered like snakes. The only variation was what appeared to be decaying tombstones, all crumbled marble and obscured names. This was a new one for him. The Shadow Monster had never taken him to the graveyard before. 

Dear Billy, she started. I don’t even know if you can hear this. 

He could, but why? What was she doing here? It had to have been another sick game for the Shadow Monster to play, trying to break Billy’s already broken soul.

He and my mom started getting into fights. Bad fights. 

Fuck. Now he knew it was a hallucination. He knew Neil loved Susan. As much as his father could love someone. He certainly valued their picture perfect family too much to jepordize it. This was just the Shadow Monster trying to fuck with him. Still, he couldn’t help but send out a useless thank you to the universe that Max had gotten away from him.

And sometimes I imagine myself running to you, pulling you away. I imagine that if I had, you would still be here.

Billy wanted to cover his ears and scream, but he couldn’t make his arms move. He wanted the Shadow Monster to quit with this bullshit. Hadn’t he suffered enough? Why couldn’t it let him drift away?

I imagine that we could’ve become friends. Good friends. Like a real brother and sister. And I know that’s stupid. You hated me. I hated you. But I thought that maybe we could try again.

No. It wasn’t stupid. He wanted that too. He hadn’t known how to be a brother, how to open himself up and use his words rather than fists, but god he wanted to try again. Try to be better, for her. Try to be someone she would want to call brother.

But I think that maybe a part of me died that day too.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

Something snapped deep inside his chest at Max’s apologies. This may have been an attempt to shatter him, but the Shadow Monster had taken a wrong turn with that one. Instead of hiding his wounded pride, he did what he’d always done. He fought like a wild animal, teeth bared as he desperately tried to regain control over his own body. He wanted to run, to scream, to cry. He wanted to be free, to have control again. He wanted to find Max and tell her not to cry over him. He wasn’t worth it.

And then a fog began to roll in, and through the haze he could see the outline of a figure begin to flicker into existence. No. No. He’d died to save her. Why the fuck was she here now? Fucking brat can’t stay out of fucking trouble.

No, it had to be fake. Just like all of the other memories. But why did this one feel so much more real?

He felt the Shadow Monster begin to drag his body forward and a new force push him to start speaking.

“Max. I’ve been waiting to hear those words Max. Waiting so very long,” the Shadow Monster lied. Billy had never wanted to see his little shitbird sister again. At least then he would have known she was safe. But instead, she was here and he couldn’t tell if she was real or just a nightmare.

“But it wasn’t the full truth, was it Max?” The Shadow Monster had finally pulled him close enough that he could see her face through the fog, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Seeing her eyes puffy from crying, fear clouding her face. It was an expression he was all too familiar with, having been the cause of it himself over the years they’d known each other. But this time it wasn’t just himself. This time it was some other thing, something Billy could have protected her from. Had died trying to protect her from.

He ached to reach out and touch her. Surprisingly, the Shadow Monster allowed him this, moving his arm to touch her face more gently than he had ever managed to in his life. She felt so real. Could this really be something other than a trick?

“You know, I think there’s a part of you, buried somewhere deep, that wanted me to die that day.” He was forced to admit his deepest fear, to watch Max’s face twist down in guilt, to feel his cold dead heart ache. He couldn’t blame her though.

“That was maybe even relieved.” Of course she would be. He was her monster, her shadow in the closet. Her Neil. God, he wanted to puke. Instead, he redoubled his fight against the Shadow Monster’s control, if only so he could just run away. “Happy.”

Max said something in response, but it fell on deaf ears as Billy poured his concentration into getting something, any part of his body back in control. He felt the Shadow Monster responding, but it was all a blur. Until…

“And why, late at night, you have sometimes wished to follow me.” Something cracked deep inside of him, inside the part that had laid dormant ever since the kids had locked him in the sauna. He sobbed in pain, and it must have been strong enough to do something as he felt a single tear drip down his face. Maybe he could do it. Break free from this neverending nightmare. 

The Shadow Monster must have felt the crack too though, as it spit out some threat that tasted like bile in the back of his throat, because as soon as it finished using his voice to intimidate Max, he felt himself be violently ripped away from her, from the graveyard. The last thing he saw as he began to pass out was a true monster, something that looked like it had been ripped out of a horror comic, leered over Max as she tumbled over the raised edge of the grave. 

He hadn’t fought to stay conscious since the battle in the mall, but he felt himself strain as hard as he could until nothingness consumed him once again.

-----

s/o to @ihni and @hrngrvlv for being amazing cheerleaders! Thank you guys so much

[jenna1931]

So....

There’s something I’ve figured out about me. I still need to see a therapist, but basically, my problem is my self-esteem and self-worth. 

I feel like I’m replaceable, I’m small and insignificant, I’m bad at everything and I’m incompetent. 

I’ve been bullied when I was younger, and the few people I could call friends either ended up ignoring me, or betrayed me. My best friend growing up stopped talking to me between 5th and 6th grade, the guy I called my best friend just stopped caring about me (Ok, we had a strange relationship because of my crush on him, but we were still friends), and the girl I was roommate with for 8 years, the girl I thought was my best friend decided to go read my MSN chats and didn’t like what she read about my opinion on something she was doing that I didn’t like (The reason she gave herself and I to do so? Because “she had a dream of my online friend and I”). Anyway, that was long ago and, well, I made my mourning, and I digress. 

There were 2 posts online that made me realize what the problem was, and the more I think about it, the more I can put puzzle pieces together. 

The first post was a character in a staircase, pointing at another character a few steps higher, saying “The gap between us is gigantic”, and the next picture was a zoom out of the stairs, the 2 characters being actually near the top, and the first character saying “why would anyone see value in me?”

The second post was about who you are for yourself and others. The text reads “[...] the person you think of as ‘yourself’ exists only for you, and even you don’t really know who that is. Every person you meet, have a relationship with or make eye contact on the street with, creates a version of ‘you’ in their heads. You’re not the same person to your mom, your dad, your siblings, than you are to your coworkers, your neighbors or your friends. There are thousands different versions of yourself out there, in people’s minds. A ‘you’ exists in each version, and yet your ‘you’, ‘yourself’, isn’t really a ‘someone’ at all.”

These 2 posts made me realize that I don’t like myself, I don’t like who I am, and yet, I’m in a 10+ years relationship, I have a great relationship with my close family, a great relationship with my coworkers and only get good compliments from my bosses, but I haven’t had friends for the last 10 years, and I’m just starting to see some of my coworkers as friends. 

Because of my previous friendships, I always feel like the compliments I receive are forced or sarcastic, and when they are sincere, I feel like I don’t deserve them, like I did nothing to deserve them, and I then suffer from “Imposter Syndrome”. 

I see myself a lot in Adrien Agreste from Miraculous Ladybug, but a little in the opposite way. 

The love I receive from my family is unconditional, when Adrien’s is in exchange of perfection, or with a motive behind the gesture. As Chat, he feels like the only way Ladybug would reciprocate his feelings for him was for him to be the perfect partner when, in fact, he could just sit down and watch the fight, eating popcorn, as long as he is there. 

The love I receive from my friends appears to me to be forced, like I owe them something in return for their friendship, when Adrien’s friendships are unconditional. His friends love him for who he is, either as Adrien or as Chat Noir.

So, I know the problem, but I’m aware that I have to work on it, and that it won’t change in one day. I feel like this is something little, like I should just “see myself as someone who matters”, but I can’t.

I just can’t...

[brendashmenda]

it pains me the fact that armin is so insecure and has such low self steem even though he's perfect and all his friends keep trusting and valuing him, and it pains me even more that this boy gives so endlessly to others without expecting anything in return due to seeking validation😞 just wanted to make him realize that he's so perfect so I often imagine holding him in a lazy afternoon and showering him with love and sweet nothings, making sweet sweet love to him filled with love on this bad day and talking softly to him in aftercare, kissing his tears away, thanking him for his existence and for everything he does, telling him he's so much more than enough,,, make him feel valued and loved yk🥺

armin definitely needs to feel validated and loved bc he is an angel, (I absolutely love this <3)

you’d just had enough of it. Armin was always doing so much for others, sparing barely a thought for himself. And it seemed to you that whenever he did pay attention to himself, he would say things, things that made you frustrated, because they were filled with underlying self deprecation. why did he always have to put himself down? why couldn’t he see how amazing he was, how perfect in his own ways? all of this was on your mind as you stood in front of him arms crossed.

he was trying to get you to let him go down on you, (like always, the sweet boy) but you refused, insisting he finally learn to understand his own self worth. he continued to protest as you gently pushed him down onto his back, removing his clothing with careful hands. but finally when you started kissing him, he stopped trying to fight, and gave in to you. (although you speculated that once more this was only in efforts to please you.)

”you’re perfect, armin,“ you whispered as you traced over the rough areas of skin marred by years of heavy odm gear use, and then feeling the contrast of his soft, untouched, lightly freckled shoulders. You leaned your head down, kissing gently.

“and m gonna show you just how much i love you, kay?“

he nodded, blushing to the roots of his hair. Nobody had ever called him perfect before.

you pressed warm kisses everywhere, all over his beautiful features, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, his jawline, his neck, over to his ear, kissing his hairline and forehead.

in between kisses you made sure to whisper loving words to him, assuring him of his importance and how amazing of a human he is, making him a little flustered, but a new feeling was emerging in his chest, a feeling of self worth, even if it was just small. you shifted your lips down to access his shoulders, his chest, and you kept going down until you had pulled his waistband down, breath fanning over his hard-on.

he adjusted himself up, resting on his elbows so he could look down at you, and the sight almost made him faint, it was so arousing.

”hey armin,” you told him sweetly, “m gonna ride you, okay? I want you to see how good you make me feel.“

and as you lower yourself down onto him, his mind almost goes fuzzy at the sensation, but he’s glad he stays somewhat present in the moment because then he hears you moaning, babbling about how he makes you feel so good, and something else about how it’s him, only him, he’s the only one who can do this to you, make you feel this way. And he’s letting his elbows drop, head falling back on the pillow, messy blonde hair splaying out this way and that. you’re so sweet with him, after your orgasm, just letting him lay there, keeping him inside of you, as you cup his face, leaning really really close to him, whispering affirmations, brushing the droplets of sweat, and, as you suspect, a small trace of tears away from his eyes. you just want to make sure he feels so loved, so needed, so important, like he is. and after youve finished whisper-ranting at him, as you cuddle up next to him, arms wrapped loosely around each other, you softly say, “youre my favorite person in the entire world,” into his ear, and he feels validated and loved forever <3

[serenata-your-neighborhood-lefty]

Reddit bankrupts at least one hedgefund: An explanation by AoShin

Alright kids, sit down while I tell you what on earth is happening. It's a once in a lifetime historical event. It's insane. At least 1 hedgefund has gone bankrupt, thanks to a group of average joes on Reddit.  By the end of the week, there will be a line of bankruptcies. 

So let's start at the beginning:

First of all, stocks are pretty simple, when they go up in value, you make money, because it's worth more than you bought it for. Stock goes up- you make money. Stock goes down- you lose money. 

Short selling is the opposite. Short selling makes money when the stock goes down in value. Short sellers borrow someone else's shares, and sell them, with the goal of buying them back later, and pocketing the difference as profit. So, Tim borrows Bob's shares in GME, and sell them for $10, he pays Bob $1 to do this, and promises to give all of Bob's shares back. Then, if the stock goes down to $5, Tim buys the shares back at a cheaper price. So Tim's profit is $10-$5-$1 = $4 profit. 

So that's where we start. A hedge fund tried to force down the price of Gamestop, and short the stock. It usually works fine. It's been done thousands of times, with no problems. So they shorted Gamestop (GME) from $20, to $10, to $4. Their greed kept compounding. They kept doing it again, and again, for months. Making billions of dollars, and almost bankrupting this company. 

Enter Wallstreetbets. A trading/investing subreddit. 

Someone noted that these hedgefunds shorted 140% of all shares available. These hedgefunds were so damn greedy, they borrowed more shares than actually existed. That's how arrogant and dumb they were. They borrowed 140% of all the available shares. It was literally impossible for them to buy them all back. So someone on Wallstreetbets realized this, and told everyone. Now, the rule with short selling is that ALL those shares that they borrow, MUST be paid back. And so we reach our main story of how the hedgefund's greed ruined them.

Realizing that these hedgefunds shorted GME by a ridiculous amount, these Redditors (a bunch of regular Joes like you and me), bought every share they could get their hands on. Driving the price up as much as possible. Why? Because these hedgefunds eventually (within a few months) HAD to buy all those shares back, at whatever price they could get them. They didnt have a choice. 

 So if they borrow a million shares, and sold them for $10. They made $10 million in immediate profit. But eventually, they HAD TO buy those million shares back. They didn't have a choice. That was the deal they made when they borrowed the shares. 

So these Redditors bought the shares, driving the price up, forcing these hedgefunds to buy back at crazy prices. Yeah, the hedgefund sold and made $10 million, but now they had to spend $147.98 million getting those same shares back. A HUGE FUCKING LOSS of $137.98 million.

So eventually, the due date for when these hedgefunds need to return the borrowed shares comes closer. 

And what do they do? They double down. They short MORE. Because they're sure that they can manipulate the stock enough to get it to crash, thereby saving themselves. 

 Fastforward a few days, every attempt to crash the stock fails. Oh it works temporarily, but not enough for them to save themselves. Everyone knows what theyre trying to do, so people keep buying the stock. And with every additional bit of media attention, more and more people are buying the stock, destroying the greedy hedgefund in the process. Eventually Melvin Capital- a multi billion dollar hedge fund, needs a bailout, because it has lost so much money shorting GME. They borrowed billions off another hedgefund. That was yesterday. The stock price was $76.

Today, the stock ended up at $147.98 for every share. Up from $4. These hedgefunds are STILL shorting the stock, at 130% of available shares. That's how fucking greedy these guys are. All those millions of shares STILL have to be paid back. 

 And that's where our story picks up. Hedgefunds are crying on CNBC. on CNN. on FoxNews. On literally every every platform they can get their hands on. They want the government to stop trading. They want this reddit forum investigated and banned. They're screaming ''market manipulation'', when in reality these hedgefunds were the ones manipulating the stock, but they got caught, and are now trying to take their ball and go home.

Now, if you haven't realized it yet:

With a normal investment, when buying stocks normally, the maximum you can lose is your original investment. When short selling, your losses are theoretically infinite. Because you HAVE to buy back at whatever price is available. So while these hedgefunds are on every news channel, every investing segment screaming about Reddit and Wallstreetbets, they inevitably draw attention to themselves, and what's going on.

Enter the ''whales''- individual investors who can make a splash and impact the stock. Millionaires and billionaires that have a bone to pick with hedgefunds and short sellers. Elon Musk famously despises short sellers, because they tried to cripple Tesla so often. With a single tweet, Elon sent the share price skyrocketing from $147.98 to $230. And along with Elon Musk, a huge number of wealthy ''whales'' have started to jump in. Buying up HUGE amounts of stock, at crazy prices.

But these investors don't care. They don't care how expensive they buy the stock for. Because they KNOW these hedgefunds MUST buy the shares back. For many of them, they don't actually care if they lose money. They just want to watch these hedgefunds burn.

Does this mean you should buy GME? I'm not gonna answer this question, because you obviously shouldn't be listening to strangers on the internet when it comes to your money. There's a lot of upside to buying GME, but there's also a crazy amount of downside. Tomorrow the share could go back to $4 and you could lose everything. These shares are obscenely overvalued, and the only reason they keep going up is that people are gambling that the hedgefunds will buy them for a higher price (they likely will, but up until what point?). It's a game of chicken. When the game ends, the house of cards will crumble, and people will lose millions. 

The only thing I can recommend is that you grab a beer, and keep an eye on GME and enjoy the fireworks.

- AoShin, here 

[slasherscream]

hear me out crazy ass boy gang with a s/o that writes them songs but has never shown them. randomly the guys find them knowing them some are gonna be insufferable with the amount of arrogance they now possess and some of them have no clue what to do with the concept of someone loving them and verbalizing it 🥺

A/N: oooh my gosh i'm obsessed with this concept

billy loomis: Was waiting for you to get back from school/work, and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t necessarily trying to find anything, but the book was on your desk- you were asking him to read it, at this point. He’s only halfheartedly looking until he realizes the words are lyrics. It doesn’t take a genius to realize the love songs are written with him in mind. At first it makes him smirk. But he can see the evolution of your relationship through the lyrics. General feelings of infatuation melting into the deeper connection of being in love with him, as opposed to being in love with love itself. It’s an ego boost, for sure. Mostly it’s a relief. Here are your feelings, written out on page, clear as day. Your every unfiltered thought. He doesn’t tell you he read the book. He just walks around with a knowing smirk on his face that you’re very suspicious of. You’re easily distracted from this onset of smugness by his sudden romantic nature. He’s never been a bad boyfriend, but he’s certainly never been so downright doting. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you decide to just enjoy this random streak of tenderness.

josh washington: You two were moving in together and he was just trying to unpack some of your boxes for you. He’s honestly just setting up your desk for you. All the boxes are marked so that either one of you can unpack anything inside with at least a vague idea of where the stuff should go. Something about the unmarked notebook that doesn’t look like its for school makes him take a look inside. When he realizes how personal it is he wants to put it down. Then he spots his name... and well, he isn’t a saint.

He melts as he goes through the pages. He knows the two of you love each other. You have to love each other, with all the bullshit you’ve been through. But he knows it’s not easy to be with him. Sometimes he worries that you’ll wake up one day and be done with him. Be done with all the problems that come with being with him. He wouldn’t blame you but the thought leaves him hollow. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. He doesn’t know if he could handle you being gone. You love him though. It’s inked into the pages. Some songs written out slow and careful, and others written out sloppy and fast, like you had to get all the feeling out of your chest because it hurt to have it all trapped inside. You’ll walk in carrying takeout and find Josh crying. You nearly drop the food to run and comfort him. When he tells you what’s wrong - or really, what isn’t wrong, you won’t even have the heart to be angry. He looks somewhere between overwhelmed and awe. All he can think to do is pull you into his arms. He holds you so tightly you wonder if he’s afraid someone will come and take you away.

stu macher: He was just going through your stuff because he was bored, honestly. He wasn’t expecting to find anything juicy. The minute he realizes he’s holding onto a notebook full of songs he’s giddy. It’s practically a diary! You'll come into your bedroom and see him poring over your words without shame. He won’t even have the decency to stop. “Hey babe!”, will be his absentminded greeting as his eyes stay glued to a far-too-familiar book. You’ll have to literally snatch it from him. “Didn’t know you felt this way about me.” His teasing will be relentless. You’ll have to threaten to break up with him, and give him a bit of the silent treatment too. Eventually he’ll ease up on you, his grin going soft around the edges. “You should show me them on your own next time. Else I’ll have to go hunting for ‘em.” It’s not an idle threat. Now that he knows the book exists he’ll really tear up your entire house looking for it. Don’t bother trying to hide it. It won’t be worth the headache. 

jd: His first instinct is to become insufferable. As he reads more of your lyrics, he starts getting overwhelmed. Even as he holds the proof in his hands, he can barely wrap his head around you feeling so strongly about him. He traces over your handwriting and relishes every word. You'll catch him in the act but you won't have the chance to get angry. He kisses you like a man starved. Whispers every thought of love he's ever had against your lips, uncaring if he sounds obsessed. He was allowed a glimpse at your soul. It's only fair that he bares his in return.

kevin khatchadourian: Honestly was indifferent at first. He was going through your things because ‘why shouldn't he?‘ when he found all the songs. Page after page he reads. Slowly but surely it starts to get to him. The only person who's ever loved him is his father, and that love is built upon an endless tapestry of falsehoods and manipulation. His father loves someone who doesn't exist. His mother knows him, always has, but she despises him. Celia loves him, but it's pathetic. The hopeless and unthinking love of a dog. And now there's you. When he's with you he drops the act of normality he puts on for everyone else. You were around so constantly that he couldn't stomach wearing the mask 24/7. Beyond that though, there was something about you that made him want to show you everything. At first he thought he wanted to scare you. Now he doesn't know what he really wants from you.

As he reads through the pages he's sifting through your words, finding the deeper meanings. Watches as you stop writing about his mask, and start writing about him. Jagged and malicious and apathetic as he might be. You're infatuated          maybe you even love him. You've written out the words in a hundred different ways. He can see it every time you look at him, reach for him, follow him, talk to him. Reading it is different, somehow. You probably never wanted him to see these words. To know the depth of how you feel. You were probably afraid he'd mock you. A few months ago he would have. Now? He puts the book back, exactly where he found it.

He won't tell you about reading it, but the words are always on his mind. You'll think you misplaced the book one day and be beside yourself over losing it. Eventually you’ll find it again, out of the blue. Something is off about it though... but you’re not sure what. You’ll never know that what you have is a replica of the original book. A good replica, granted, but a replica nonetheless. Kevin thought about the songs too much, and committing them all to memory hadn’t scratched the itch. The constant cycle of the words running through his head. The irritation he’d feel when he forgot a part of a song, or mixed lyrics together. Having the book itself? It quieted his mind. He’s uncomfortable with the fact that he keeps it under his bed, tucked away inside a lock box, just so no one would be able to look at it. He’s never felt so protective over an item before. He tries not to think about it too much.

nathan prescott: He actually looked at your song book on accident. He needed to borrow some notes for a class and you told him he could just go to your room and grab them. He would never go searching for something like that. Saying he values his privacy would be an understatement, so he'd never disrespect yours. As soon as he realizes these are songs he wants to stop reading... but he's desperate to know what you think of him. People lie so easily, but here's a chance to see the raw truth of how you feel. He's terrified as he starts to read. Then he's just shocked. He'd hoped you weren't like everyone else around him. Wanting him to fail, to lose it, waiting for some sort of pay-off or trickle down. Even if you were, he wanted you so badly he was willing to have you any way you came, as long as you stayed. But here you are, your deepest feelings written out in ink, and you love him. You don't even pity him, you ache for him, want him. The next time he sees you he tells you he loves you for the first time. You'll never know that he read your songs, you'll only notice how much your relationship seemed to change over night.

sebastian valmont: Has to deflect. The only reason he’s being such an asshole about your songs is because he’s trying to deflect. He’s the only one here who has also written about you. Maybe not in lyrics, or in poetry, but he’s written about you. His diary is full of you. He started writing about you the moment he met you. Not unusual for him, considering absolutely everything is in his journals. But from the start there’s been something different about the entries that mention you. All his words suddenly become electric, leaping off the page. His descriptions of you, of the time you spent together, nearing obsessive in their detail. As if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

If there’s anything Sebastian is good at its manipulation. He knows he has you. He can have anyone, if he puts his mind to it. He’s made people fall in love with him before. There’s a long line of people who wants his head on a platter for that very reason. You’re the only prize that’s ever mattered, though. He has you now, sure. But what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? It’s easy for eyes to wander, for the heart to turn fickle. Sometimes he watches you and tries to imagine what you might want from him. Tries to figure out what he could do to keep you interested from moment to moment. If he ever shared his worries with you, his worries that you could just get bored with him and leave, just like that - you’d tell him you don’t want him to be anyone but himself. And Sebastian doesn’t want to be anyone but himself, he doesn’t. But people contain multitudes, are more than a single face. He’d rather be a version of himself that captivates you then a “true” version of himself that you can grow tired of.

But here’s written proof that you love him. As he is. All the long nights you’ve spent talking to one another, side by side. The conversations where you traded barbs and philosophy, and everything in-between. The dinners, and picnics, and phone calls, and rooftops. He was so busy observing you, and trying to create a version of himself that you could love, that he forgot that there was something real for you to fall for. Didn’t even know how much of himself he was earnestly offering to you. Now he can see it in ink, and it’s scary, even with how much he loves you, to realize how much of the real him you know.

So he’s an asshole for a few days. When you confront him he falls apart like a wet sandcastle. You won’t have time to get angry before he’s pushing his own journals into your hands. Sebastian has never played fair, but something about you seeing through him despite all his masks made him want to show you more. As scary as it had been, it was also a moment of pure connection. The most electric, addicting thing he’s ever felt. He wants to feel it over and over again.

[eclairslein]

Why Technoblade is an unreliable narrator

I’ve seen a lot of viewers idolizing c!Technoblade and saying it didn’t make sense that Tommy left him in the end. I watch Technoblade’s streams, but also everyone else’s. I think there’s a lot of overlap in viewers who idolize him and those who don’t have any context other than what comes from his character’s POV. As someone who has watched all POV’s here is why I disagree that “Technoblade has done no wrong” “Techno helps everyone and just gets betrayed” and “Tommy backstabbed Techno!”

I disagree with all of these statements and I don’t think c!Technoblade is a victim despite his personal monologue insinuating that. Let’s start at the beginning.

Technoblade joined to help Wilbur and Tommy with the intention of taking down Shlatt. He preached for anarchy and chaos. Although he was clear about the from the beginning, the people he was allied with didn’t agree with that. Wilbur was driven to that point AFTER Technoblade had already been allied with them. Tommy NEVER wanted to “destroy all government” his goal was always just to take down Shlatt and return to his home. Technoblade ignored the wishes of his only two allies and continued to entertain the idea in his own head of completely destroying L’Manberg. That was never an agreement, he made that decision on his own AGAINST the will of his only friends, Tommy and Wilbur.

Technoblade, on the other hand, was keeping secrets from them. He had withers prepared before they even put Tubbo in charge. Behind all of their backs he conspired with Wilbur and DREAM to destroy L’Manberg just as soon as they’d won it back. That is betrayal. No one betrayed Technoblade because they never promised him anarchy in the first place.

This is where his narration becomes unreliable. In his speech he brings up making all the gear for his new allies and then them betraying him when they used that gear to take back L’Manberg. He called that a betrayal even though it was CLEAR FROM THE BEGINNING WHAT THEIR INTENTIONS WERE ( the beginning being when Quackity and the others joined Pogtopia to help Tommy and the intentions being stopping L’Manberg’s destruction by Wilbur and ending Schlatt’s administration ). Technoblade calling this a betrayal is delusional.

The second thing his character is unreliable about is his “retirement.” When Technoblade set withers upon L’Manberg he caused pain and destruction, but also ultimately committed crimes against L’Manberg. He also vowed to them before disappearing into the wilderness that he would continue to destroy the government. When the Butcher Army arrived at his doorstep asking to answer for his crimes he claimed to be in retirement. Fleeing from a crime scene and then not committing crimes for awhile doesn’t excuse you from the original crime. Butcher Army coming for Technoblade was not entirely unreasonable the way c!Technoblade paints it to be. Technoblade was a war criminal and a threat and it made perfect sense for them to pursue him. Putting Phil under house arrest crossed a line, but going after Technoblade was not unreasonable for L’Manberg to do.

As for Technoblade’s relationship with Tommy in particular this is something that c!Technoblade is completely deluded about. Pogtopia days, Tommy did consider Technoblade a friend. The one thing that changed that was when Technoblade worked with Wilbur and Dream to BLOW UP LMANBERG. The ONE THING Tommy fought for, at least at the time. Technoblade dropped Tommy as soon as he realized that working with Wilbur and Dream (behind the backs of Tommy and everyone else) would get him his personal goal of anarchy. He betrayed Tommy first when he made that decision.

When Tommy holed up in Technoblade’s basement, Tommy stayed because Techno told him that he’d help him get the discs back. But Tommy was clear with Techno the whole time that he didn’t want to do anything to hurt Tubbo. Tommy always said no to plans that would hurt Tubbo, Technoblade would brush him off constantly and say things along the lines of “we’ll work out the details later.” Tommy never budged on not wanting to hurt Tubbo, despite Technoblade’s constantly insisting that Tubbo is bad and didn’t care about Tommy.

Technoblade was breeding anger and feelings of betrayal in Tommy in trying to convince him his best friend didn’t care about him, the same thing Dream was doing the weeks before while Tommy was in Logstedshire. Convincing Tommy that he didn’t really belong in L’Manberg was the only way to make him pliable and useful to both Technoblade and Dream. By pushing on Tommy that he should leave his friends (L’Manberg) behind, they were turning him into a bad guy. A person only motivated my personal gain (the discs) and that cares for no one.

After threatening Fundy, Technoblade told Tommy that he finally had respect for him. Finally believing that Tommy didn’t care about his old friends in L’Manberg anymore and was solely motivated by the discs, he revealed his plans to destroy L’Manberg. Tommy never agreed to this and was frankly horrified that what happened between him and Wilbur was happening again. He had no where to go and stayed with Technoblade but expressed clear discomfort in Techno’s plans to destroy L’Manberg.

Now for what Techno calls “Tommy’s final betrayal.” When Tommy stands by Tubbo at the community house and leaves Technoblade. To show why this was completely justified on Tommy’s part I’m going to draw comparisons to one of my favorite works of fiction: Avatar The Last Airbender. At the end of Book 2: Earth Zuko betrays Iroh and returns with Azula to the Fire Nation. Zuko’s time there makes him realize that he cares more about doing the right thing and being the PERSON HE WANTS TO BE than staying with his family and hurting people. Tommy leaves Technoblade for the same reason Zuko leaves Azula. Tommy does not want to be the type of person that would stay with Techno.

Tommy and Tubbo were in a screaming match. After Tommy regurgitated line after line that Dream and Techno had been feeding him. “You left me to die!” and all that jazz about choosing L’Manberg over him. The thing that stopped it was Tommy saying “ Those discs were worth more than you ever were!” Everyone went silent. Tommy stopped everything and realized that he had become a deplorable person and he was saying things he didn’t really mean. Caring more about discs than his friendship w Tubbo was Dreams plan all along and exactly what Technoblade had been feeding him. Tommy dropped everything to stand by Tubbo because he was mature enough to realize that he was the farthest he had ever been from the person the wanted to be, and the closest to being the villains he had been fighting his whole life. Whether it was intentional or not, Technoblade was the person who drove him to become that person. Dream started it, but Technoblade finished the job.

Technoblade felt betrayed, Tommy left him. But it was the only thing Tommy could do and still hold on to the person he wanted to be. Tommy cares about his friends, Tommy has been with L’Manberg since the beginning and has always done what he could to save those he cared about even if it meant personal sacrifice. That’s who Tommy is. The Tommy that Technoblade wanted to be allies with was a person who would help hurt and destroy L’Manberg. Someone who cared more about discs than his lifelong friends. That Tommy never really existed, he was always uncomfortable with Technoblade’s revenge plans. If Technoblade really listened to Tommy, and cared about what he thought, he would know that Tommy could never be the cold heartless person that Technoblade could use to achieve his personal revenge on L’Manberg.

Ultimately, the Tommy that Technoblade needed to help him and/ or stand by and watch him destroy L’Manberg doesn’t exist. It goes against everything that has been established about who Tommy is and what motivates him. To stay true to himself, Tommy could not possible stay with Technoblade and become a stubborn, cold hearted, vengeful person.

That “betrayal” was the most mature decision Tommy has ever made in canon and I WONT STAND BY AND LET YALL SAY IT WAS UNJUSTIFIED JUST BECAUSE IT WASNT WAHT TECHNOBLADE WANTED.

Technoblade is a villain, just because he has a reason for wanting to blow up and destroy everything doesn’t make him a better person for it. He is not moral and never has been. His goal from the beginning has been taking something so many people cared about, L’Manberg, and destroying it because he, personally, is an anarchist. That is an ideology, but it is not the only one. Technoblade wanting to destroy L’Manberg is pushing his values onto others through force and makes him more of a tyrant than every leader of L’Manberg combined. He is flawed just like every other character. The difference that I see is that his character never reflects and admits any wrongdoing on his own part, only blaming others for not agreeing with him and ultimately leaving him.

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hopes and Dreams II

First of all: HOW AMAZING ARE YOU PEOPLE?! You gave me so much serotonin. All the reblogs with added tags, all the comments and favs and all the new followers, you are amazing. I will add a taglist for future chapters, so if you wanna get tagged, hit me up, and you will be added to that list. Seriously, I love you guys. ***

“Will you be able to walk?” Alcina asked and you just shrugged and motioned for her to lead the way. You walked in companionable silence for a while, which gave her the chance to take a longer look at you. You were pretty tall, even though you were still rather small compared to Alcina. She was pretty sure that you were taller than Heisenberg though, and that made her feel odd. You held yourself with a confidence she wouldn’t have expected after everything that happened in the last few minutes, reminding her again that you were not unfamiliar with the supernatural. It unnerved her to no end, and she found herself wanting to solve the mystery that surrounded you. Where did you come from? Exactly what is it what you were doing here? Would you turn into a threat or into an ally? Alcina wasn’t stupid, far from it. She knew that Mother Miranda’s hold on the Lords was slipping, Heisenberg’s silent plotting was proof enough. Did Mother Miranda know that you were here? Alcina sure didn’t, and the other Lords didn’t mention a stranger roaming the village and the surrounding woods. Although Heisenberg mentioned that an unusual amount of Lycans had disappeared. 

Her eyes roamed your figure again. Your hair was kept in a neat undercut, colored in a hideous blue that still looked good on you. You were clad in a black Hoodie and equally black Cargo pants, as if the cold didn’t bother you at all. It was the middle of the winter and yet you strolled through the cold as if it was springtime. Which made her wonder if you were really just a mere human. Everything she experienced with you implied that you weren’t ordinary and that intrigued Alcina greatly.

“You could just ask me about myself, you know?” you said and smiled up at her knowingly. Alcina flustered and wiped some non-existent lint from her long dress. So, you were aware that she was watching you.

“We usually don’t see strangers in these parts, especially ones who seem to know more than they should. Which raises the question why exactly you are here?”

“Considering that we just met, my lady, it wouldn’t be wise to reveal my whole tragic backstory. And further considering that I don’t know if I’ll see the light of day ever again if I were to enter your castle, forgive me if I won’t trust you with my motives yet. All you need to know for know is, that I am a traveler and have been for my whole life. I search for artifacts, among other things, that my benefactor can sell for good money. He took me in when I was just a child and took great care in training me. He is the closest thing I have to a father figure, although most people think me insane for the trust, I have in him. And as for why I am in Romania, I don’t really know to be honest, or wasn’t when I first got here. It was a gut feeling telling me to come here, and I find that I can trust those feelings, whenever they arise.” You said and stretched.

“I won’t keep you locked in the castle if you don’t give me a reason to mistrust you. There is a reason why no one come to these parts, so I am very wary of strangers. I have daughters to protect after all.” Alcina said, musing about what you said. If you were a traveler looking for artifacts, it would explain why you look at the supernatural as if it was a normal occurrence.

“You will have to see for yourself then, but I can assure you, that I am not here to hurt you or your daughters. My last mission… Didn’t go well and I originally came here recharge a bit, if you know what I mean. Again, forgive me if I am being too careful, but I have more enemies than I have friends, and I really like living.” You said carefully and Alcina kept staring at you. You didn’t seem dangerous to her, how could you, looking like you did, but she was still wary. She felt the sudden urge to protect you from whatever enemies you were talking about, but you were strangers. That realization hurt her more than it should, but with your past lives, it was so different. She always knew who was in front of her, whenever she met you, but this time around was just so complicated.

She felt drawn to you, even with your boyish looks you were still immensely attractive to her, and the way your blood sang to her made you all the more alluring. More than ever before if she was honest. But that is the problem, you were still familiar to her, but not as much as before and it scared her. You still had the potential to destroy her, even if you didn’t know about that.

***

You could practically smell the curiosity rolling of Lady Dimitrescu. She was wary of you and yet there was something in her eyes that you couldn’t quite place, even though it made your heart soar to new heights. She was as much a mystery to you as you were to her, and you felt so drawn to her. Like a moth to the flame. You briefly wondered if it had something to do with her nature. She seemed like a careful person, but considering from what you heard in the village, you totally got that. Which is why her next question caught you quite a bit off-guard: “Do you actually have a place to stay or are you just roaming around the forest, picking fights with Lycans?”

“Are you offering, my lady?” you said, wearing a Cheshire grin and wiggling your eyebrows. The blush that colored the Lady’s cheeks was worth every punishment you could possibly get from that comment. You still valued your life though, so you said: “I don’t mean you any harm. I just enjoy some friendly banter and it has been ages since I felt comfortable enough to do so. To answer your question, no, I don’t really have a place to stay. I’m helping someone with their housework every now and then though, so as a thanks they let me sleep on their couch whenever possible.”

“What kind of housework?”

“Nothing much, some cooking and general repairs.” You shrug and the smile she gave you was positively sinful when she asked, “What else are you able to do with your hands?”

It was your turn to blush and blushing you did; you even felt the tips of your ears go warm and it didn’t help at all that Lady Dimitrescu started chuckling. Still, you weren’t one to miss an opportunity so you said “Well that’s for you to find out, my lady” with a smaller voice you would have liked. How had one woman such a power over you?

“Hmmm, maybe I will, my dear,” she said and winked, making your brain short circuit. You stumbled in your steps and her hand steadying you didn`t help one bit. Sparks shot through your arm when she touched you and you felt something niggling at the back of your mind. No one ever had such an effect on you, no matter how stunningly beautiful they were. Suddenly, shivers ran down your spine, and not the good ones, so you took a protective stand in front of Lady Dimitrescu and said “Careful. Someone is watching.”

And just as you spoke the words, a shadow descended upon you and your instinct started to kick in. Your knife was out in seconds, a voice in your head urging you to protect your Lady. So, when the shadow descended upon you, you had it pinned down, snarling furiously. You felt your fangs elongating and your sense grew ever sharper. Well, seems like the cat was out of the bag now.

“Let go of me!” the girl you had pinned to the ground snarled, but her attempts to flee were futile. 

“Give me one good reason to not kill you on the spot. How long have you been stalking us?” You snarl, feeling your blood start to boil.

“Let go of her, dear. She had no ill intentions.” Lady Dimitrescu said, and against all odds, you calmed. Huh. That had never happened before.

“Is this a new plaything, mother?” the girl asked, and you started snarling again, but a hand at the back of your neck made you freeze.

“Don’t be rude, Daniela. She is our guest, and she needs some medical attention. So be nice.” Lady Dimitrescu said and the girl, Daniela started pouting and muttering something under her breath. You were still on edge, bare containing the snarl that wanted to leave your throat. The hand around your neck tightened in warning and another shiver ran down your spine. One of the good ones.

“So, I was right about you. You are not entirely human.” Lady Dimitrescu purred, and you had the sudden urge to bolt and hide away. You noticed how much she must have hold back until now, the danger rolling of on her in waves was something you never once encountered.

“I told you that something happened to me. If you promise not to harm me, I will tell you what happened. But I can promise you that I am no danger to you or anyone else, if not properly provoked.” You said and dusted of your knees. She let go of you and turned to Daniela, conversing with her in Romanian. Daniela looked at you with sudden intrigue and a nasty smile. She practically screamed trouble, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it.

“Come now, it isn’t far anymore. Daniela will alert the castle of our arrival, to avoid any nasty surprises.” Lady Dimitrescu said and led you away. And sure enough, a few minutes later you reached the castle gate, three figures awaiting you. One you recognized as Daniela, so the other two must be her sisters. One of them looked at you with mild interest, while the other one looked at you with a spark of recognition in her eyes. Had you met before on one of your travels? You were pretty sure that wasn’t the case, but let it slide anyway, since you had bigger problems right now.

“Bela, would you please prepare the sitting room in the west wing? I will need some antiseptic and bandages, warm water would be wonderful too. When you are finished with that, prepare the guest room next to mine. We will talk later.”

The one who seemed to recognize you from somewhere left in a flurry of… bugs? What the fuck? 

“Cassandra, Daniela, please prepare a light super. I will talk to you two later two. Just bring the food into the sitting room when you are finished, yes?” The order was given gently and in another flurry of bugs, you were alone again.

“You can explain yourself when I am cleaning and dressing your wounds. Come now.” She said and led you into the castle. You were still processing the abilities of her daughter, so you followed her silently into the dimly lit entryway. *** Taglist: @imdreamingblo

[brain-deadx0]

Blood in the Water

Summary: Virgil is kidnapped for ransom, but when his captors don't get what they want they decide to get rid of him.

Characters: human Virgil, mer Logan, oc villain

Warnings: Kidnapping, restraints, hostage, injury of a main character, implied torture, attempted murder, drowning mention, near drowning, noncon kissing(?)/mouth to mouth, knife, uh… let me know?

 Virgil had never given much thought to his father. Sure as a kid he thought the man was cool as hell. But he was more like that rich uncle you never see who sends you cool toys on Christmas and your birthday. 

 As he got older he came to realize this but didn't care all that much. Sure he thought he would've liked to have an actual relationship with the guy, until he got old enough to realize his mom was the only one who was actually supporting him and paying the bills. So he decided the guy wasn't worth it anyway since despite all the money he seemed to have he never tried to help out. 

 Virgil knew his father was a bastard. 

 Virgil thought he was simply a rich yet deadbeat dad up until his mom got sick. The two had never once asked him for anything, but when Virgil was a broke college student who couldn't afford the growing medical bills he reached out. Hoping that if nothing else the man would help pay for her treatment. 

 He didn't even go to the funeral. 

 So yes. Virgil knew his father was a bastard. He just didn't realize how much of one he actually was. 

 Virgil was currently tied to a chair on what he could only assume was a boat. Or at least he hoped it was a boat or else his concussion was worse than he thought. 

 He didn't bother testing the restraints. He was too tired at this point and every attempt before had ended in pain. 

 He didn't even know why these people had suddenly grabbed him off the street and shoved him into a trunk. Sure his estranged father was rich or something but it's not like either of them had been in contact for years. Virgil didn't even get gifts anymore since his mom died and he told the man to not even bother. 

 He really hoped these people didn't actually know who he was because if they tried to ransom him he was definitely going to die. 

 The sound of the door slamming open startled him from his thoughts. 

 Virgil glared despite the new ball of anxiety sitting heavy in his stomach. 

 "So," a man in a pristine white suit said as he walked through the door, "You must be Virgil." 

 "Who's asking?" Virgil growled. 

 He almost regretted it as one of the guards made a move for him, only to be stopped by the man holding up a hand. 

 "You can call me John." 

 "Because that's totally not a made up name." 

 'John' just smirked, "Remind me: what was your father's name again?" 

 Virgil cursed, "Look man, if you're looking for money you kidnapped the wrong guy. I haven't had contact with that bastard in years. He didn't even pay child support!"  

 "I asked for his name, not your life story." 

 Virgil huffed, "George Storm," he ground out, "why are you even asking me? You obviously know already." 

 "Just wondering which alias he used on you." 

 "What?" 

 "Now Mr. Storm-" 

 "It's Sanders. I got rid of his name when I told him to fuck off." 

"Fair enough," the man said, "regardless of your name the fact remains that you're still his son and that means you're worth something." 

 Virgil couldn't help but laugh at that, "Didn't you hear me? He won't give you any money. He probably forgot I even existed by now." 

 "Then let's remind him shall we?" 

 Virgil couldn't help but flinch at the sudden sound of ducktape. 

 …

 "- and if you don't? Well your little boy might just have a little accident." 

 Virgil's screams came out muffled as the cattleprod was once again jammed into his side. 

 "Enough." 

 Virgil shook as he tried to recatch his breath. 

 "Well Mr. Sanders, you played your roll quite well." John told him. 

 Virgil just glared back. 

...

 Virgil wasn't sure how long he had been in the small room. It had to have been a couple of days at least. They had taken a few more videos after his fathers response or lack thereof. Each time Virgil was beaten or tortured just shy of unconsciousness. 

 He wasn't restrained anymore at least. It's not like anyone thought he could do anything at this point. 

 He laid on the cold metal floor hoping it might somehow make his body feel less like a puddle of pain, but if it did it wasn't noticeable. 

 He flinched and curled into himself when he heard the door open. Several sets of heavy foot steps made their way towards him. He tried to curl up tighter in a meager attempt to protect himself but inevitably failed as a rough hand pulled him into a sitting position. A bright flash let him know they were taking another photo before the hand in his hair began pulling him towards the door. 

 "Hello again Mr. Sanders." John greeted pleasantly as Virgil was thrown to the deck. 

 Virgil coughed as he pushed himself to his knees, "I'm guessing he won't give you anything?" 

 "No." John hummed, "I guess you were right. He really doesn't give a shit about you." 

 "Will you let me go now?" He couldn't help but ask. 

 John smirked again in the way Virgil had unfortunately become familiar with over the last however long, "Seeing as you aren't worth any monetary value I see no reason to keep you." 

 For a brief moment there was a flicker of hope in his chest. 

 "But I've wanted to kill that father of yours for a long time now. And you do bare quite the resemblance." 

 Virgil screamed as a heavy net was suddenly thrown over him. He tried to fight off the men surrounding him as they began to wrap rope around the mess he was quickly getting tangled in. 

 "Any last words for your father?" John asked as he stood over him with a camera. 

 "I hope you both burn in hell!" Virgil hissed. 

 "I suppose we'll just have to meet you there." The man told him before nodding to one of his goons. 

 Virgil screamed out a slew of curses as he was dragged the short distance to the side of the boat. He managed to suck in a breath as he felt himself be hoisted over the side and tried not to lose it as he hit the freezing water. 

 ~  

 Logan's nose twitched as the faint scent of blood traveled on the weak current around him. Normally this would be a sign of an easy meal. A struggling seal, perhaps a fish that made a narrow escape, the occasional whale injured by human vessels. 

 He knew there was a boat in this area. He had been following it of course. Humans were dangerous but they were interesting and it was rare for them to be in this area. 

 Unable to resist his curiosity he quickly followed the scent to the boat. 

 The surface churned as the boat sped away but Logan barely paid it any mind as his eyes caught on something heavily tangled in one of the cursed human nets. 

 Logan knew humans used them to catch large amounts of fish. He wasn't sure why they needed so many all at once but that was one of life's great mysteries. He also knew that other creatures often got caught in them. If they were lucky the humans would let them out. If they weren't they often drowned. 

 He swam closer to the poor creature that was still struggling in the net. Whatever it was had obviously been left for dead. 

 ~

I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die…

 Virgil struggled as the net seemed to get tighter around him and his lungs screamed for air. 

Oh god I'm gonna die!

 He had to get out he had to get out of the net. 

 Despite his mind telling him to struggle and get out so he could breathe, his limbs started to fail him as he sank deeper into the cold water. 

 He barely felt the nudge of panic that shot through him as a shadowy figure that looked too close to a shark came closer. 

'Sharks are cool…' he thought as his vision turned dark. 

 ~ 

 Logan wasn't sure what he expected to be in the net, but he knew 'human' wasn't on his list. 

 The human's unfocused eyes landed on him for only a moment before closing. Small bubbles of air began to escape from their face as they went limp.

 That was… not good. 

 He quickly grabbed the net and tried to pull it upwards to the surface but barely slowed the descent caused by the heavy weights. 

 Logan looked up to the sky that grew farther and farther away. He needed to cut the weights off but the human would surely die before they would make it to the surface. There was only one thing to do if he intended to save them.

 He hesitated a moment before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the humans. 

 When he pulled back the human drew in a sharp breath followed by a short coughing fit. Logan was a bit concerned they didn't wake up but at least they weren't about to drown. 

 Logan reached into his bag and pulled out his knife before moving to cut the ropes. The heavy weights quickly disappeared into the dark below and Logan began pulling the human back to the warmer water near the surface. 

 … 

 Virgil woke up cold. It took him a moment to realize he was soaking wet. Another moment passed and he realized he wasn't alone. 

 There was someone next to him, humming in an odd tone, and seeming to be messing with something covering him. 

 He managed to crack one of his eyes open just in time to see a blurry flash of what looked like a knife. He quickly closed his eyes and curled into himself causing the person above him to stop humming. 

 ~ 

 Logan knew he should've fled back to the water as soon as the human showed signs of waking. He was only part way through cutting the human out of the net when the human's eyes opened. Only for them to immediately close again and for the human to retreat into themself. 

 Logically this would be the next perfect opportunity to leave. 

 "It's alright," he said instead, "You're safe now." 

 The human flinched at the sound of his voice but made no move to look at him. 

 After a minute Logan realized he wasn't going to get an answer, "You're stuck in a net," he told them, "I was in the process of removing it when you woke up. May I continue to use my knife to get it off?" 

 The humans eyes remained screwed shut but after a moment they nodded. 

 "Alright, I'm going to start near your abdomen is that acceptable?" 

 Another nod and Logan began to cut through the plastic ropes once more. As he worked the human gradually began to relax slightly. By the time he finished the human was only marginally as tense as they had been when they woke up. 

 Logan stored his knife back in his bag, "You should be able to get out now." 

 Once again the human flinched at his voice but thankfully didn't seem as scared as before. After a few seconds, the human began to shift cautiously. 

~

 By the time the other person had spoken again Virgil was pretty sure they didn't intend to murder him. But he was still confused. The last thing he remembered was being thrown overboard and left to drown. 

 Had another boat just happened to be near enough to see it and help him? It wasn't likely but that was all he could think of. 

 Until he finally got the courage to sit up and open his eyes. 

 ~ 

 The human gasped as their eyes locked onto the sharkmers tail. They seemed to freeze for a moment before their eyes rolled back and Logan lunged forward to try and catch them.

 "Oh dear," Logan said as he looked down at the once again unconscious human. 

 He looked around the area, unsure of what to do next. The sky was beginning to shift to a morning grey and more humans would undoubtedly start making their way to the currently empty beach. Logically he should leave now and let the other humans deal with it. 

 Logan was feeling very illogical today. 

 He gently laid the human back down and waited. 

 It was a bit concerning how long the human remained unconscious a second time. Logan knew it was likely due to their injuries, both seen and unseen, but for some reason he couldn't help but hope they would wake up soon. 

 Logan kept a sharp eye on the beach. Just as the sound of voices started to travel down from the cliffs the human began to show signs of waking. 

 Logan hesitated longer than he probably should have before quickly making his way back to the safety of the ocean. 

 He hid some nearby rocks and watched as the small group of arriving humans seemed to notice the figure in the sand. When they got close the group picked up speed and surrounded the injured human. 

 It wasn't long before humans in matching dark clothing appeared and took the first away. 

 Logan took that as his queue to leave as well. 

...some time later…

 Virgil stared out at the ocean as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. 

 He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to come back to the beach so often. Honestly you'd think the almost drowning in it would make him more wary of the ocean. And while there were many things he'd rather forget, and a few he probably had, he couldn't help but think about the person he saw. 

 He had met the people who found him on the beach, how he got there was still a mystery, and while they were nice people, none of them were the one he'd first seen. The one who he was pretty sure saved him and cut the net. 

 So here he was, sitting on the dock, waiting for something to happen. 

 As the sun finished sinking into the ocean he almost swore he saw a large fin break the water.