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eddieheart · 4 months

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Brokeback Mountain

I re-wrote the ending to brokeback mountain because I hate myself

- Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist fall in love on a lonely old mountain. It's a whirlwind romance that grips them by the soul.

- By the end of the summer when they're asked to leave neither can bare to separate, so they don't.

- (at the beginning you don't see Ennis with a car but further on you do, so I'll just assume he had a car but lived in town) So they sell one of their cars (the worse one of the two) and get the little beginnings of a nest egg

- At first they're just driving around aimlessly, not putting down roots anywhere. While working at a ranch they hear some of the guys talking about going to Alberta to work on the oil rigs

- Jack is immediately all for it, Ennis isn't sure, but after a while they decide to go. It's really good pay, in a similar place to where they are now and they can avoid the draft. (Win win)

- (in Alberta, 1970, a roughneck would be payed approximately 27,000 dollars a year, in today's money that's about 212,000)

- They eventually make enough to buy an apartment together, which passes fine enough under the guise of two bachelor roommates, who can't afford a place of their own.

- Eventually they hear about club 70 and Flashback (both gay bars founded around 1970) in Edmonton, only about 45 minutes from where they live

- It soon becomes a common place for them to hang out.

- While at the club they discover 'Carousel Capers' (newsletter of club carousel) a monthly newsletter for gay people that had started in 1969.

- They also discover GATE (gay alliance towards equality) that started in 1971-72. The alliance had an actual building which included a drop in center and a resource center. They provided peer counselling and speaker referrals all while still fighting for gay rights.

- It takes a long time but eventually they even visit the center.

-It's during one of these visits that they meet Margret 'Peggy' Walters and Winnifred 'Fred' Murphy, a lesbian couple in the same area

- They both share their woes about living as a gay couple in the area and how at a certain point it's hard to pretend to be just roommates

- They all become fast friends and continue to meet up regularly. While having coffee one day Peggy shares a thought, marriage, marriages actually. Those of Ennis and herself as well as Jack and Fred, for tax purposes and also convenience.

- It's during the spring that they get married and it's summer when they take a 'honeymoon' at Brokeback mountain.

- The girls love the solitude and everyone keeps their distance during the stay.

- The second day of their drip, when the sun gets real low, a mix of amber, crimson and violet, the sky peppered with ghosts of stars that Ennis falls to his knees before the love of his life and pulls out a small gold ring.

"I don't say much, and I don't know much either, but what I do know, is that I love you Jack Twist, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

- Jack let's out a brash fit of laughter, running off for no more than a minute. He jogs back to where Ennis is sitting and collapses to his knees, sliding towards him, a ring in hand. All the overwhelming fear and anxiety Ennis had been feeling quickly fell away.

- Jack stared deeply into the eyes of the man he's sure he wants to spend the rest of his life with, putting a free hand on the other man's cheek as he speaks.

"Ennis Del Mar, I- I just can't quit you, and I don't want to neither. I've spent every day since we've left thanking whatever god that'll listen for you, cus you- you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. So, Mr. Del Mar, wanna get hitched?"

- They end up laugh crying and falling into each other, both making slapdash moves for other's ring and pushing them onto they're fingers.

- One day while working on the rigs, Jack gets into an accident. Work normally last 16-20 hours a day, and they work almost every day, sometimes 7 days a week. Because of this, Jack in his sleep deprived and overworked state, passes out, hitting his head on piece of metal machinery.

- Ennis is rightfully terrified and it takes a few days for Jack to actually wake up. When he does, Ennis decides that they are never going back to the rigs.

- They merge what little nest eggs they've saved up with the girls and buy a ranch.

(The price per acre in 1988 was 374, and they bought 500 acres)

- There's a little house on the property which they all refurbish together. It's technically two smaller houses merged together, each with they're own mailboxes. One says Ennis + Peggy (for Jack and Ennis) and the other says Jack + Fred (for Peggy and Fred)

- Each couple had their own side of the house, but they all spend most of their time together like one big family.

- Because they have so much land, they don't have to worry about anybody seeing anything they aren't suppose to, so they don't have to keep behind closed doors anymore.

- Fred learns to weld and becomes a trades woman, While Peggy prefers to say home, take care of the house and cook. Ennis and Jack get a herd of sheep, some cattle and a few horses.

- Now that they have the money Jack even gets himself a roping horse, a young mare named Sunny that he trains himself.

- The house and barn are near constantly filled with music, the radio is always playing. It's partly because Jack read something about animals being happier when they listened to music and partly because Ennis doesn't have the heart to tell him he's wrong.

- After a while when they're all good and ready, Peggy and Fred propose having children. So not long after that, Ennis and Jack get jiggy with a plastic cup and Peggy and Fred get real familiar with a turkey baster.

- Jack desperately wants a little boy and has for quite a long time, Ennis is the more apprehensive of the two, but as soon as the older man gets a glimpse of his little baby girl all his worries melt away.

- It's then that they're all renamed, Ennis becomes Daddy, Jack becomes Popa, Peggy is Moma and Fred is Mom. They all wear their titles with pride.

- Peggy had two girls each a year apart and Fred has a little brown eyed boy.

- As it turns out, it's quite difficult for four people to decide on baby names. But after a first 10 months of deliberation, and another year for their third they decide on Alison, Jackson Robert and Marie.

- After having the babies Peggy starts to work in town to help raise some more funds for the kids and Ennis and Jack become the best stay at home dads you've ever seen.

- Ennis actually learns to cook and Jack is a diaper master, though he'll never admit it to anyone else.

- Though the old clubs are closed by now and the paper long gone, GATE (which was renamed to GLCCE, the Gay and Lesbian Community Centre of Edmonton) is still around. They all decide they can spare the extra money for a ranch hand and post an add at the center, hiring a young boy named Henry.

- Though they somehow end up with two hands because of Henry's codependent relationship with his girlfriend Danny.

- At first the guys are shocked that they hired a gay boy who turns out to have a girlfriend. But soon after, Danny the spitfire (as she's renamed) educated not only the boys but Peg and Fred too, on bisexuality, genderfluidity and what it means to be transgender.

- They all get very up to date on gay culture. (They haven't been getting out much since the kids... and the sheep)

- Each of the kids learns how to ride horses at four, but all of them have already (and continue to) gone on rides with their dads.

- Buts it's their youngest Marie that really takes a shine to it, horseback riding with such ease it's as though she's just walking.

- Eventually Marie even gets her own little colt, which she names boots, and starts training to barrel race (and to rope just like her popa)

- Their first trip as a family is to Brokeback mountain. Ennis and Jack sneak away in the night, watching the sunset and basking in the joy of their lives.

"Lookit how far we've come. I really love you Jack."

"And I really love you."

- On the last day they take one big picture as a family. The kids get it framed for their anniversary, it still hangs in their dads' room.

- Though they came to love Henry and Danny they eventually left the ranch. At the ages of 23 and 22 respectively the pair got married, the blended family being invited of course. They come empty handed, seemingly without a gift, but they're harbouring a splendid little secret.

- After returning from their honeymoon, they all meet up again at the shared house for dinner and their wedding present is finally given.

"Are you gonna tell them or am I?" Peggy asks with a smirk.

"So, I know y'all are grown now, but Ennis and I- and Fred and Peg," Jack adds after a side glance from the girls. "We made you a little something."

- The four of them, plus the kids, lead the newlyweds through the property and about ten acres in they peep a little dirt road. The road in turn is connected to the Main Street (on the opposite side of the property) and to a sweet little bungalow.

- Upon realizing the house is for them they both burst into tears and become (officially) member of the family.

- Marie goes on to become a rodeo star, a trick riding, barrel racing, calf roping badass. A true rodeo Queen.

- Jackie Jr. graduates early and gets a job as a mechanic in town and occasionally joins his younger sister at the rodeo, as a roping duo. At first he'd been interested in bull and bronk riding but after a long and stern conversation with both his dads about the dangers he decided against it.

- Alison turns out to be the wild card of the family, deciding to go to school to become a doctor. (Never did Ennis, or Jack or that matter, think that he could make a kid that intelligent, but fuck if she wasn't a smart cookie)

- Though he's a man of few words, Ennis gives heartfelt and genuine goodbyes to each of their children. Jack as well, tucking his head into the side of his now (really freaking tall) kids, hiding his tears in bursts of 'I love yous' and 'I'll miss yous".

- Now that they're all empty nesters the house feels a little too lonely, a bit quieter too, even though the radio is still always playing. So Jack and Ennis decide to start fostering, (though technically on paper it’s Ennis and Peggy and Jack and Fred)

- They take in the kids that no one wants, the belligerent teens, the abandoned toddlers, homeless kids, the reckless boys and the defiant girls. Kids that have no other options.

- They end up with 6 year old Toby, 14 Christin and 16 year old Randy and they love every minute of it.

- Jackie Jr. is the first to get married. His wife is a sweet young thing named Stella, she comes from a hard working family and desperately loves their son. They build and move into another house on the property, not too far from Henry and Danny.

- Allison finished her schooling at a big fancy, (as Ennis puts it, "smart kid school") and now lives in the city, she's had a few boyfriends, and girlfriends, over the years but still hasn't settled down.

- Ennis gets a little nervous every now and then, about Allison and if she feels as lonely as he did when he was a young kid. Jack always pulls him back though.

"Just because she isn't married doesn't mean she ain’t happy, I mean, think about us, about Peg n' Freddy, when we were kids we was happy, unmarried and very happy just being with each other."

"Allie knows she's loved, we tell her all the time, she knows her family will always be on her side, no matter what."

- Danny and Henry adopt a little boy named Tommy. (Ennis thinks the fact that all their names ending in 'y' is weird but only ever says anything to Jack)

- Marie is the next to get hitched, her and her partner Randi, whose full name they still don't know.

- Jackie Jr. and Stella have their first kid, a little girl, Ennis Jr. (Both her granddads cry when they hear the name)

-That fall Peggy has a stroke and can't work in town anymore. Now she stays home with the boys (and the kiddos). At first it's really hard for all of them, she can't do what she used to be able to, things Peggy had mastered are now nearly impossible. But over time they all become accustomed to the new normal.

- All the kids come home when they hear about moma. Allison quits her job in the city and becomes a family doctor in town, she says it's because she doesn't like the fast paced nature of the big city and prefers to be closer to her home anyway.

- Marie comes back from her rodeo tour but only stays a few weeks (at the request of her mother) and soon gets back to travelling.

- Jackie Jr. is blessed with a set of twin girls, Winona (Winny) and Pauline.

- Marie gets pregnant and has a baby girl, Jacklin (aka. Jack the third, or Jack Jr. Jr.)

- Needless to say the house is loud again, constantly bustling. Little kids running wild, their foster kids are grown, but Toby stays in the family house. He loves taking care of the kids, so he starts taking night courses at the community college for childcare.

- Every once and while someone will come in (just out of the blue, with no warning, like it should be) and find the two men laying together, gently holding onto each other, radio playing softly in the background.

- As an anniversary present the kids arrange a trip to Brokeback, they take the whole family. Jack and Ennis fall asleep holding each other in the place they fell in love, the sounds of their children and grandchildren running around in the distance.

- They get a surprise about a week later when a new framed photo joins the other on their bedroom wall, this time with their grandkids too.

- Jack falls down the stairs. He nearly breaks his hip and Ennis decides to get a stair lift. At first Jack refuses to use it, but eventually folds one day. Ennis sits in the chair calling Jack over, he pulls the other man onto his lap and distracts him with a chaste kiss as he pushes the down button. Jack doesn't fight him over the 'stairs chair' anymore.

- Gay marriage gets legalized, they find out by watching the local news like they do every night. Ennis bursts into tears, looks over at Peggy and says 'I want a divorce' before turning back to Jack with a smile.

- They get married in the summer, on their anniversary. The kids walk them down the isle, Jack III brings the rings and both cry when reading their vows.

- They go to bed that night, staring into each others eyes, holding their husband, they're husbands now. Jack curls onto the bigger man's chest and they both stare at the pictures on the wall, where it all started, Brokeback mountain, the radio playing softly in the background.

———

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flickeringart · 3 years

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Mars Retrograde in the natal chart

I’ve written about planets in retrograde in the natal chart before, find the post about Mercury, Venus and Mars here and the post about Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto here.

In this post I’m going a bit deeper into Mars Rx.

As we all probably know, Mars is the planet of personal drive, aggression, assertiveness and outward directed energy. Mars it works on behalf of the personality as the warrior – as forward movement, strength and desire. Mars enables us to be goal oriented, to stand up for ourselves and have a sense of direction and momentum. Depending on the sign Mars is in, the style in which one goes about one’s interests will vary. For example, an Aries Mars will be direct, impulsive, straightforward, loud, non-apologetic and open in taking action. Taurus Mars will be calm, patient, stubborn and energy preserving. Gemini will be cerebral, creative, mischievous and all over the place. Cancer Mars will be careful and protective of emotions while trying to secure a goal. Leo Mars will be demonstrative, proud and demanding. Virgo Mars will be purposeful and practical, going over the steps required to reach a specific goal. Libra Mars will try to smoothly get other people to get on board with one’s direction without ruffling any feathers, usually through using reason and logic. Scorpio Mars will assert its will “undercover” often through subtle yet effective emotional blackmail and strategy. Sagittarius Mars will be bold and restless, potentially quite clumsy and funny. Capricorn Mars will be serious, patient, mature, responsible and steadfast. Aquarius Mars will potentially be acting on behalf of a collective mission and thought-movement, considering what lies in the best interest of the “group”. Pisces Mars will be easily directed by influences from the environment, compassionate, soft and a bit confusing.

Having Mars direct in the natal chart means that desire is merged with action. In other words, action is employed in the name of desire. In the most basic sense, a person sees something of value (Venus) and Mars is the one who is in charge of conquering it. Venus and Mars can’t really be discussed separately for this reason because something has to catch one’s attention (Venus) in order for there to be anything to attain and achieve. Simply put, Venus is the object, person, place of esteem and Mars is the force that is in charge of closing the gap between the person and that which is desired.

When Mars is retrograde in the natal chart the drive to achieve is equally as strong as with Mars direct, but it is turned inward instead of being directed outward. This causes inner frustration, pent-up energy and often feelings of being ineffectual – unable to directly go after what one wants. Many sources state that since Mars is a masculine planet, Mars Rx is more bothersome for men, as women tend to not suffer from lacking in masculine traits as acutely because of identification with femininity (Venus). This is probably true, yet women will similarly experience the debilitating effects of Mars Rx – sometimes through the lover and partner of choice.

Some sources state that natives with Mars Rx had a childhood where they were not allowed to get angry or to stand up for themselves. Perhaps no one listened or bothered, perhaps displays of aggression were forcefully disapproved of and punished. There could have been a lack of support of the native taking initiative and paving his or her own path. I have had the reverse experience of being accused of not being assertive enough. I have Mars Rx in Virgo in the 3rd house and I was constantly criticized for lack of extroversion growing up, particularly in school (the 3rd house rules lower education) by teachers and peers. I was “too quiet”, “too inhibited”. In a sense, I was attacked for my “lack of Mars”. Unfortunately, I think this is quite common for people with Mars in Rx, we seem to invite aggression (in my case criticism because Virgo rules my 3rd house) in the area of life (house) that Mars is placed. I never attempted to “strike back” but kept my own pent up anger inside feeling worse and worse about myself, humiliated, yet for some reason unable to project the intensity outwardly – probably because it would only have caused me more reprimanding. However, the positive thing I’ve noticed with Mars Rx is that I have the ability to act independently of outside influences. In a sense I can act without desire being merged with action. Or rather, I can choose to redirect the build-up of intensity into unrelated activity. It’s definitely counter-intuitive, but it’s very useful in situations where one is required to act despite of a goal. Since people with Mars Rx have an obscure desire nature, there’s the ability to simply put one foot in front of the other and see what comes of the action.

(Buy products with my art here)

There’s something to be said about inviting aggression from the outside with Mars Rx. Other people seem to want to cause a reaction by provoking the Mars Rx person to make them stand up for themselves and display some assertiveness. This never works because Mars Rx people don’t react defensively to personal attacks on the spot. They sit tight, face the situation calmly yet is feeling a build-up of energy that is likely going to erupt later, when the situations has passed and when it’s no longer relevant. They get angry with themselves for not acting on the spot, for not saying the things they wanted to say and display the strength that they really do possess. Mars Rx people often question their potency and can beat themselves up for not being more willful. As stated, the bouts of anger come only at a later time, which does nothing to gain the individual a reputation of being impactful. The moment has passed and the opportunity to strike is gone. It’s important to not be too hard with oneself, Mars Rx isn’t a character flaw, it’s part of one’s unique blueprint and one would do better focusing on the benefits rather than the down-sides. Mars is after all about confidence and there’s no reason why Mars Rx should settle for feeling “less than” confident. The key is to not look for external proof of one’s potency and be content with knowing that one is powerful despite appearances of lack of assertiveness. With Mars Rx one should avoid comparing oneself to other people. Comparison and competitiveness don’t benefit these people, for obvious reasons. Measuring one’s strength against another will leave one feeling neither strong nor confident because the strength of Mars Rx is passive and felt internally.

In order to not feel emasculated with Mars Rx, one has to be squarely doing one’s own thing and avoid caring about what other people think one should do or even what oneself think one should do based on social values. This is the only way to be happy with this natal planet in my opinion. Stop competing = stop depleting, stop comparing = stop caring. Mars Rx people have the opportunity to be real individualists when they start valuing their internal integrity rather than the outward display of it. In a sense, Mars Rx is a very pure Mars. It’s simple action, unmotivated and unresponsive. It will not win us any battles in the moment; Mars Rx doesn’t build any momentum, energy is extended outward in bursts, starts and stops. The approach that works the best is to let action flow through, rather than directing it deliberately. This is usually going to translate into a quite soft energy but it can be quite beautiful. The famous male ballet dancer Mikhail Baryshnikov had Mars Rx – he was especially admired for his gracious jumps and seemingly effortless soaring in his dancing. He’s a good example of Mars Rx manifesting in a very powerful way – he uses his Mars to move independently in a non-confronting “Venusian fashion”. Yet, no one could claim that he lacks strength. The famous basket player Michael Jordan also has Mars Rx and he is widely considered one of the greatest basketball player of all time. It makes sense that dance and sport should suit these people because these activities require starts and stops more than building momentum.

Mars Rx has a reputation for being sluggish and lethargic. I think this is inaccurate to accept as a rule, but it is certainly possible for these people to seem like they are. Other people often perceive Mars Rx people to be at least very chill and calm, which is not always the case, it’s just that the boil hasn’t reached the surface yet and when it does, it’s out of tune with the outer situation and its momentum. The Mars Rx person might sit tight in a social interaction, never showing any sign of annoyance or agitation, despite being pissed off. It might be frustrating to not be able to release energy directly but Mars Rx energy is better channeled into purposeful activity, into independent action. Some sources claim that Mars Rx can be prone to self-destructive behavior and self-harm because of pent-up energy and unexpressed anger. I think this is true, especially if one lives in a very hostile environment and has a hard time, because of one’s Mars Rx, to do something about it – to fight back, to spontaneously immerse oneself in “combat” and defend oneself. It could also be because one’s aggression, when openly displayed, is turned to a social disadvantage. People might claim that one is “over-reacting” because the anger response is out of proportion with the situation at hand. “Over-reacting” is common problem for people with Mars Rx, because they’re typically calm, until they burst – and then they’re commonly labeled crazy or even abusive. There’s no way to “win” socially with Mars Rx, I find – either one is accused of being too passive or too reactive. This social disadvantage could easily turn into self-hate and self-rejection, because one doesn’t get any approval from the outside. Depression is sometimes linked to planets in retrograde, and this is quite understandable, in the light of everything that they imply. Depression is after all often associated with repressed anger, of a blocked drive and frustrated desire.

People with Mars Rx say that it gets better with age and that Mars is gradually more easily expressed because of experience and understanding of oneself. This might be partly due to Mars going direct in one’s progressed chart, however, one cannot make Mars go direct in one’s natal chart, it is a fixed blueprint that one will have to contend with. This is not to say that one cannot become more conscious of one’s own psychology.

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youneedsomeprompts · 3 years

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I became a writer one day.

There was a time when I was feeling really down during the last three months of 2020. It was hectic and was probably the most saddest months of my life.

The only last string of happiness that gave way to my depressed mental state was when I started reading Lout of Count's Family.

I had enjoyed myself and was so engrossed with the novel and manhwa that I have never felt so deeply enchanted towards a story and a character before.

During the start of the year I have distanced myself with a bunch of people and I may or may not have hurt a few of them along the way. The only given comfort I could have, as I tried to move on from the issues I have been fighting from within, was through reading the novel and gaining online friends in discord.

It was all so much fun!! So many talented artists and apparently a LOT of those authors I have read fanfics about TCF/LCF (like those big big names whose fics had a bunch of hits and kudos) where practically living in the server.

Oh man the joy I had was intense when I realized I was actually mingling and talking to them. I was just at awe with how their thought process worked, how they articulated those details and plots in their writing, and seeing them creating AU's in the AU's channel whether it be fluff or angst or crack or a mix of the three XD. I was reading and chatting with them live and it felts so surreal to have read so many different alternate universes and stories created on the spot.

So main point.

One day, as I was craving for more fics of my otp, AlbeCale (I love these two so much), I tried asking in one of the channels in the server if there were any new ones, because apparently I have read everything already in ao3. However, I did not expect a magnificent coin named Penny, a beautiful fruit named Mango, a fancy potato called Fancipotato, a sweet purple dragon named Miru, the Boss of our server, Boss Ren and a bunch more writers would tell me something that would change my life for the better

"If you can't find what you want, write it yourself~"

"You don't know until you try! You can just write and not post it if you want!"

"Join us!"

"Just write down ideas you have and who knows maybe it will evolve into an oneshot and before you know it a multichapter au!"

"Ohhhh!!! You should try writing!! I highly encourage just to try even if you don't think it's good because it's fun, therapeutic."

It still gets me laughing whenever I recalled my past self, who after creating a username and wrote 3 chapters in, posted in two days immediately. That was when the Boss Ren, Mango and my beta partner Butter, gave me a looong lecture at that moment XD I didn't know what was 'spacing' and that it was better to set schedules. And they were also kind enough to tell those things to me so I wouldn't have a burnt out.

I was just so new to everything, heck I haven't even written a fanfic before in my life, never even read fics/ original stories in wattpad or ao3 before I found my love for the novel. (This novel has also been the third story I've read when I only mostly bury myself with manhwas/mangas)

It ended well and I have learned so many things along the way. My writing has greatly improved because of the people I have conversed with for the past 4 months. I have these tiny gremlins named Aster, Polka and Elli who are with me in a private server made Crypt who always seemed to persuade me in creating more plot to the story. These damn little enablers where the reason why the story is still not stopping anytime soon... (but they are a blessing and I would kill for them)

Crazy thing here is, if I told my past self who was still down in the dumps back in 2020 that I was writing in 2021 she would probably say,

"No shitting way!"

So enough backstory, since I've explained the depth of how I was just a beginner writer with no experience whatsoever, I am proud of where I am standing right now.

To think I have found this magical outlet to release my stress and to feed myself when I am craving for 'food' for the heart and soul at the same time. I have met so many kind humans down in the comment section who believes, supports and loves my first fic. I won't ever shut up about my this fic everywhere because the moment I posted that story was the day I felt somewhat lighter, satisfied and... well free.

To my past self who wouldn't stop crying her tears every night inside the bedroom, you'll be surprised to know that I'm already at the 20th chapter of the first fic I've written with 100,000 words count. (And I'm not even halfway done with the plot) I have garnered 2k kudos which I'm pretty sure you wouldn't even believe, knowing you were just a reader and did not think you'd be a writer.

I was unexpectedly influenced in the pursuit of the vast horizon of writing where I still can't see the end, but I'm enjoying every bits and parts of the journey.

In simpler terms, I am happier now. Why? Because I became a writer one day.

Thank you for sharing! It is great to see which healing effect writing can have. And how awesome what successes and affirmation you've already received! I wish you the best for your future writing!

Share your writing success! (x)

#writing #writing experience #writing success #submission

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kz-i-co · 3 years

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If Scars Could Dissapear

Request: "Hi, ummm...I have no idea how to go about this but, I'll give it my best shot! I have no idea If you are still taking requests, but if you are, I'd like you to make one on Hyungwon. With angst and fluff and a depressed reader (10 out of 10 description) because I'm a depressed little sh*t. You don't have to if you don't want to, i understand that you are busy with other past requests and I just thought I'd throw in a request. I'd like to see what you would do with this request IF you even decide to write it. You write your imagines/oneshots (I don't know what you call them!) with amazing detail and I thought I would request this to see how you would go about it. Once again, I understand if you don't accept it, I know you must be very busy with other things but I thought it wouldn't hurt to try. I'm going to end this here because I think I might have made it a little to long, with that being said, bye bye!" - MoMoIsNotFine

Pairing: Hyungwon x Reader

Genre: angst x fluff: depressed reader au

Words: 3k

A/N: I hope this one shot is okay for you. It's a sensitive topic and I hope I don't offend anyone in anyway. I think dealing with depression and suicide is very horrific and needs to be talked about more.

M.list | MX masterlist

You closed the mirror as your eyes were dark with bags, purplish bruises showing that you haven't slept in days. Everything was hazy.

"(Y/N) it's time to take your medication." The nurse spoke to the right of you.

She was forced to keep an eye on you during and that's exactly what she did as you shoved them in your mouth and swallowed a glass of water.

"Tongue." You rolled your eyes as you opened your mouth showing no pills in sight.

"It's time to settle down." The nurse spoke.

"Can I get something from the vending machine first and watch a movie?" You asked.

"Okay." She gave you an accepting expression as she knew you were trying to bend the rules.

"Be back soon." She spoke as you grabbed your cardigan to wear over your warm pajamas and sliding your feet into your nice comfy slippers.

You sighed dragging your feet to the closest machine. You have been at this hospital for two weeks now and you were done seeing the same old scenery everyday. You just wanted to go home already.

You made it to the machine seeing a tall boy selecting something that forced you to wait. You never noticed him before actually. You thought you knew everyone in the juvenile unit.

You sighed loudly as your patience became the worst of you. The boy grabbed what he wanted and bowed respectfully, making you feel guilty immediately.

"Thanks." You said quietly as he stayed quiet.

You wondered what he was here for? Everyone had a different reason that always has an interesting story behind it.

You wandered back down to your hallway seeing the tall boy aimlessly wonder into his room noticing you in the process. He softly waved as a small smile formed onto his pale face.

You waved back but couldn't help but grow confused. What was his story?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You scrolled through your phone bored out your mind as every channel was slowly becoming more and more irrelevant, making you want to pull your hair out. You rolled your eyes seeing random dumb Facebook post and ads filling the white screen, but the further you scrolled the more irritated you have become. Seeing your best friends hanging out at parties, not having a care about the world, especially you at the moment. Sure some would argue "you did this to yourself" but seeing how the people closest to you don't even care was a turn in the blade that was already cutting through the surface.

You ended up throwing your phone across the room, causing two loud bangs as it hit the wall and once again to the floor.

After having a little crying fit, you heard a soft knock on your door but choose to ignore it. But instead of another knock a small piece of paper slid underneath instead causing you to grow confused. You thought it was a nurse that knocked but now you couldn't help but wonder. You got up seeing the note on the floor with a simple message that caused you to softly grin.

"Are you okay?" The message said.

You grabbed your pen from your bedside table and wrote back to the stranger that awaited on the other side of the door.

"Who wants to know?"

"A worried neighbor." The note slide back. You couldn't help but smile as you finally decided to open the door. You saw the boy that stood out to you early sitting up against his door across the hall. He smiled softly as you just closed your door so you could sit and lean against it as well.

You took the note back and turned it over to start a new question. "Why are you so concerned?" You slide the note, leaning forward as he leaned meeting in the middle to grab it.

He took his pen writing something, continuing this weird game of telephone and slid it back over as you were already growing with anticipation. "In a place like this....doesn't everyone?"

"So why are you here?" You slide over the note once again.

He wrote something down but then hesitated to write more. "It's a secret.......but I bet your guess is as good as mine."

You couldn't help but giggle from his response. You figured your guess was as good as anyone else.

He was just like the rest of us in this hospital.

Just kids lost in the darkest parts of our own thoughts. The ones that can't control the temptation that is being spoken at every turn.

It's not like we are crazy. Just depressed.

"Thank you for cheering me up." You slid the note back one last time before receiving a soft smile and a simple wave and finally giving in to a long awaited good nights rest. You felt like it was the night you can finally let yourself have it as you found someone that understands you with the simplest of words.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You dragged your feet, counting the tiles in the process as you made your way to the cafeteria. Once you saw the area, your eyes glanced across the room seeing the boy that couldn't leave your mind. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of his table about to sit down.

"Hi....mind if I sit?" He nodded as a soft smile left his lips. "Just wanted to confirm....you were the stranger at my door right?"

He nodded once again, not saying a word. Did he ever speak?

"Thank you about yesterday. You actually cheered me up." Nothing but a smile. "Umm...do you ever talk?" You finally asked but he just looked down playing with his food.

"I'm sorry." He reached his hand out to gently caress your hand comfortably. Then he slid a note across the table with a simple reply, responding in ink. "You're welcome"

Why didn't he speak?

He looked down at your hand once again noticing another clue to why you were here so you couldn't help but pull away.

"Oh that's nothing." You smiled softly.

He flipped through his little notebook again quickly replying. "You want to be friends?"

"Of course." You smiled brightly.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You heard your daily knock as the morning was approaching and you were already up drawing on the back of your medical pamphlet from your lack of sleep that continued to haunt your days.

"I found this outside, miss (Y/N)." The nurse handed you a note from the one and only. You couldn't help but smile reading a simple "good morning".

"There it is." You looked up as you heard her voice. "I haven't seen you smile since you've been here."

You rolled your eyes as she continued to giggle. "I'm so happy you two are finding a friendship with each other."

"But I think we have to increase your dosage with the melatonin and l-theanine." She wrote on her clipboard. "We need those circles gone."

"Don't you think drugging me to be unconscious is the appropriate way to handle this." She glared at you.

"You need sleep dear. It's good for you."

"I have been sleeping though, much better."

"Yes, it's true. But we need just a little more."

"Jeez, my 2 hours turned into 5 and that's still not enough?" You proudly said sarcastically.

"Nope."

"Can I ask you a question." You began changing the subject. "Do you know why he doesn't speak? I know it's none of my business-"

"Hyungwon? He has a very traumatic past like a lot of you kids here." You come to realize that you never even knew his name.

"Unfortunately It's not my place to disclose that information. But what I can tell you is....continue to speak with him. He likes that." She continued as she started to walk out of the room. "Who knows, maybe he will tell you himself."

....

"Hey." You smiled as you stood outside his door. "I've come to realize that I have never properly introduce myself.....I'm (Y/N)." You held your hand out.

He smiled but quickly grabbed his notebook writing the name that you have already been spoiled. "Nice to meet you Hyungwon. Shall we go to lunch?"

He smiled.

"May I ask you something? And trust me you don't have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable." You began. "But do you know how long you're in here for?"

He wrote. "Until I get better I guess."

"When will that be?" You continued to ask.

"When I speak." He wrote.

"I'm sorry but that's nonsense." You quickly grew insulted. Not with him of course but whoever is keeping him here. "There's nothing wrong with you if you choose not to talk."

"Thank you (Y/N) but I'm starting to like it here now."

You couldn't help but blush. You felt the same, all you wanted was to leave this place since you've gotten here but now you felt comfort within these walls. Or more importantly, the person sitting in front of you.

"I don't know how long I'm stuck here either. I guess until I get a proper good nights sleep is the starter." You giggled to yourself. "I've felt this burden inside of me as long as I can remember. I don't think I can get fixed, it's just who I am and I have to learn to live with that."

You looked up to see him just sympathetically smile.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Miss (Y/N), you have a visitor." Your nurse smiled as she opened the door wider to reveal your parents.

Seeing your parents, you couldn't help but feel hatred as the memories flooded back to you since they dropped you off. Not a call, not a visit for weeks. But the thing was your head wasn't flooded with emotions, at least not anymore, not since the drugs kicked in. The only thing you wanted to do now is show how much appreciation you learned from being here. You founded yourself embraced in a huge hug from your father and next your mother and honestly, you didn't want to let go. You missed them dearly and you understood that they love you and want you to get better.

"That's a good sigh." Your mother spoke and you looked up seeing her eyes flooded with tears. "We missed you so much."

"Me too." Was all you said. Your heart was still sore but it's getting better.

"You look so much better." Your mother caressed your face. "You'll be coming home sooner then your know it."

You stayed silent. You didn't know what to say honestly.

"Thank you for coming."

"We bought you your sketch book. You forgot it."

"Thank you." You smiled. "This will help take my mind off some things."

"How's it going in here?" Your nurse smiled seeing the family reunion.

"It's great." Your mother answered. "(Y/N) will be home before we know it."

"Yes of course. She has made great progress since she's been here. Even the circles are fading a bit."

"And she's even made a friend." Your nurse continued.

"Oh really?" Your mother spoke with an weary tone. Like she wants you friends with other crazy kids stuck in this hell hole.

"Oh yeah......he's nice."

"Yes, they both have improved tremendously since they've met." Your nurse continued.

"You think that's acceptable to have patients mess with other patients while dealing with their own problems?" Your mother asked.

"Not at all ma'am.....it's best not to let our patients be isolated, communicating is the best way to deal with such problems. It's not about fixing our problems it's about learning to live with it." She sure as hell, shut your mother up.

"Of course". Your mother smiled.

...

Later after your parents left in a more resentful way then before, you began drawing immediately, almost like you were desperate to express what you missed out in weeks. It was a way to relax, forgot about the world around you and let yourself take in the simple tip of a pencil, mechanical you might add.

You couldn't help but draw a funny animation of Hyungwon and his silent mockery. You imagined him sweet and mute on the outside but on the inside him yelling for attention. Sure it was a dark meaning but the animation viewed it in a different perspective. Not everything needed to be so fragile and hidden away to never be talked about but to show that it's okay to deal with such dark topics and just learn to smile.

You knocked on his door and as soon as he opened it you revealed your drawing with a bright smile. He giggled softly as he let you in his room to probably write down his opinion, which of course he did.

"Thank you." He first wrote. "I love it."

"You're really good." He continued to write.

"Thank you. I've been drawing since I was 12." You smiled. "Do you have any request?"

You read his request as he started jotting things down. He wanted something you couldn't quite imagine. He wanted to be seen as a disk jockey releasing sound waves to make everyone feel happy and forget about this shitty world; to just let people stop and enjoy it while they can.

You pictured it more as he was using music to brainwash everyone but instead of mindless zombies, they were happy. "So musical zombies?" You perked up.

He rolled his eyes at your remark.

"I hate to be lame but I'm really glad I met you, you don't even have to say a word and you're the only one that is here for me."

"My friends haven't even messaged me if I was okay, or even cared enough to visit. My parents act like they care but they didn't have the patients to help me, instead just ship me off to a loony bin - no offense." You felt your eyes water but no tears to shed.

Hyungwon grabbed your hand, holding it softly. "I'm sorry." He whispered that it took you a second to realize he actually spoke instead of writing it down.

You didn't want to make a big deal about it but instead leaned in closer into his warm embrace. His hugs felt like they actually had intentions and feelings instead of a meaningless gesture.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Of course you knew your time in this place would be ending soon but you never know how quick the day would come. It would probably be longer if your parents weren't such paranoid pricks. They are scared of the idea of you friends with someone who is just as messed up as you.

"You think I'm ready to go?" You asked your nurse as you started packing?

"I think you're ready. You were stubborn to get help at first but you really opened up and I'm so proud. I think you just needed someone to understand what you're going through and I'm not talking about me or your parents, but a friend."

"Thank you." You smiled simply. "Can I visit said friend before I leave."

"Of course." And you immediately got up going next door to see an empty room, but of course you knew where your friend was hiding.

You walked into the chapel as your friend was messing with the only music source in this whole hospital. The site made you smile just seeing him mess with the synthesizer, but then it quickly faded as you had to break the news.

"Hey." You sat down next to him. "What you playing?"

"Stuff." He spoke lowly. Hyungwon has opened to you since that night a week ago, he's no chatterbox or anything but he's actually talking again and you felt happy it was because of you.

"I have to tell you something." You said more serious. "I'm.....going home."

"Home."

"But I promise I'll visit and then we can hangout once you leave." You we're trying to hold back your tears.

"It's okay." He whispered as he grabbed your hand.

"I don't want to leave." Then the tears finally fell. "I mean I wanted to leave since I've got here but I don't want to leave you." He tugged you to lean in closer.

"There you are (Y/N). Your parents are here." Your nurse spoke from the door and she immediately felt sympathetic.

You wiped your tears and leaned in kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I will see you later."

"Promise." He smiled.

"Promise." You held out your pinky, making it an official contract.

And with that you stepped out that door leaving behind your home away from home. The place you fought for weeks and weeks to leave. But now you were finally leaving but you didn't want to....

And it was all because of him.

#monsta x fluff #monsta x imagines #monsta x fanfic #monsta x scenarios #monsta x angst #masterlist #hyungwon imagines #hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon fluff #hyungwon scenarios

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dailydnp · 3 years

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YouTube stars and LGBT+ influencers Dan Howell and Jessica Kellgren-Fozard on how they and their queer fans have helped each other through “radical bravery”.

Dan Howell, a comedian and one of world’s most popular YouTubers, and Jessica Kellgren-Fozard, lesbian YouTube star and disability advocate, have had vastly different experiences as queer content creators.

The two LGBT+ YouTubers spoke to PinkNews to mark the launch of The Rise, a YouTube campaign that celebrates diverse UK creative talent on the platform.

Having already made YouTube videos for 10 years, Dan came out publicly in June 2019, in a 45-minute video titled “Basically I’m gay”.

He described his coming out story as “very strange”, and told PinkNews: “Me already being this kind of obnoxiously, omnipresent public figure, I had to kind of go on this process.

“I’ve known how gay I was since forever, but had to go on the whole journey of not just working out how I would communicate that to the world, but truly reaching a point of self-acceptance.

“Because on some level throughout all of my life, I’ve accepted it but not really acknowledged it. I said: ‘I’m not ready yet, now’s not the time, I don’t know how.'”

Jessica, on the other hand, explained that she has “never struggled” with her sexuality, having always known she would be accepted.

“I have a very different coming out story to most LGBT+ people in that I was raised in a Quaker family, and there was never the expectation that I was going to grow up and get a husband and that this was the way things happened… So I’ve never struggled with my sexuality in that way,” she said.

While Jessica uses her online platform to discuss her life as an LGBT+ person as well as queer history, much of her audience comes to her channel for her disabilities advocacy.

She has two rare genetic conditions, HNPP and EDS, which affect her nerves and connective tissues. She is deaf, visually impaired and her conditions can affect her mobility with varying severity.

“Being a disabled and chronically ill teenager, I had this big thing in my life that was really difficult, and a real struggle, and being gay just paled in comparison,” she said.

“There was obviously the drama, the girls that I liked didn’t liked me, they always turned out to be straight. But that was the biggest drama.

“When I started YouTube, I was already married, it was already very much like, this is who I am. I’m gay, this is my wife. There’s no question. There’s no worrying about it.”

She added: “I like to think that that does, in a way, represent what our future is going to be – that we don’t have to have these coming out stories where people worry about how they’re going to be accepted, and worried about the response they’re going to get.”

Dan Howell wishes he’d had queer role models like Jessica Kellgren-Fozard when he was growing up.

Dan Howell said that YouTubers like Jessica Kellgren-Fozard could have helped him immensely when he was discovering his LGBT+ identity.

“If there was someone like Jessica when I was a young person watching YouTube, I just know I would have had a profoundly different journey through life and coming to accept my sexuality,” he said.

“I would have been represented, I would have learned about queer history, I would have been seeing different relationships, seeing different personalities.”

From LGBT+ issues to disabilities and mental health, both Dan and Jessica have used their platforms to share their experiences in areas that are vastly underrepresented in mainstream media, showing their viewers many facets of their identities.

In 2017, Dan used his YouTube channel to discuss his struggle with his mental health, in a video titled “Daniel and Depression”.

“There’s many aspects to a human,” he said. “I’ve always come from a place of just talking about whatever’s on my mind, or whatever is important to me.

“It was quite a jump for me to make that first video about mental health, opening up about depression out of nowhere was quite scary. Because even three or four years ago, it was still more of a taboo topic.

“I tried to do it in my own way, which is to kind of inappropriately joke about it at my own expense, and try to make it a storytelling experience. That’s just the same as everything else I do.”

Jessica said that from her point of view, “the best representation is always ‘happens to be'”.

“It’s the idea that you have a character who’s going on an adventure, you have someone who’s talking to you about makeup, and they just happen to be gay. Because otherwise we’re not really going to be reaching outside of our own echo chamber.”

She explained that some viewers end up watching 10 of her videos without ever realising that she’s married to a woman, which she thinks is “the best way to kind of have any change and effect on the culture and and people in the world”.

“Because if we’re always trying to preach to the choir, we’re not really going to get anywhere,” she said.

“But if people are thinking so-and-so on TV is absolutely amazing and then later find out that they’re gay, maybe they’ll be changing some preconceived notions.”

“It’s this kind of sneaky, insidious way that the gay agenda will thrive and inevitably take over the world,” laughed Dan. “Winning hearts and minds.”

One particularly heartwarming example, Jessica said, was when a fan used her videos to come out to their parents.

“She was raised in a very religious household and her parents were not at all open to the idea of homosexuality. In fact, if they were watching television, and something came up relating to the subject, they would immediately turn it off, change the channel, perhaps say something wasn’t particularly lovely.

“She was sat there feeling like, ‘Oh, am I ever going to come out my parents?'”

The fan decided to curate a playlist of Jessica’s videos to show her mother.

“It started with videos that I made about my religion,” she said, “and then transitioned to fashion and videos about history. And just slowly, each video was a slightly gayer video.”

“Her mother became a fan within the first 20 videos. She was like: ‘This seems like a good role model for my child.’

“Eventually [she realised] this role model has a wife and is gay, and is OK with this. And her parents are religious and OK with her being gay… I was able to provide a tool for someone to do that to come out in quite a safe way to their parents.”

The “radical bravery” of his queer fans helped Dan Howell come out.

Dan Howell, on the other hand, said that his fans were the ones who helped him feel safe to come out.

While still in the closet, he said he found it “difficult” that he viewers saw him as someone who was always “open and honest” with them, especially after sharing his experience with depression.

“I went on a world tour in 2018… I was doing these meet and greets, and people would genuinely pour their hearts out to me, and they would talk about everything they were going through in their life,” he said.

“They would talk about illness, they would talk about mental health. And so many people talked about sexuality, just because the community that had been created had this attitude of acceptance and growth and coming together and wholesomeness.”

While he understands that there was “no presumption [he] was a homophobe”, he found it confusing when people would tell him that he had inspired them to come out.

“It was difficult, because I stood there feeling like I was a sham. People were saying: ‘I feel strong enough to say this to you, because you’ve been so open and vulnerable to me.’ And I was just stood there like: ‘Well, actually, I feel like there’s the biggest part of me that I haven’t even yet gone on the journey to acknowledge myself.’

“I mean, I’ve had people that came out to me in front of their parents, because they felt like they were in a safe environment, and that’s crazy.

“The radical bravery of some of these people is what made me think if I was feeling like a little scared dog in my apartment, looking in the mirror like a chihuahua, thinking: ‘How am I ever going to come out publicly at this stage of my life?’ I would think well, actually, look at the younger generation.”

In the ‘chaos’ of the internet, queer YouTubers like Dan Howell and Jessica Kellgren-Fozard building valuable communities.

While the internet can be a scary place for queer folk, Dan Howell and Jessica Kellgren-Fozard are determined to use it to build community and acceptance.

“I think that we don’t talk enough about the wonderful sides of the internet,” said Jessica.

“How it allows people to come together and create a community, how it gives us access to education that might before been blocked to us, how we’re able to actually learn from people who come before us.

“I really like talk about queer history, because we’re one of the only communities and minorities that can’t pass down out knowledge through the generations. Because you know, gay people don’t necessarily have gay kids.

“We often miss out on learning from our elders and learning what’s come before us. And I think it’s really important and lovely that we talk about and validate and really cherish these communities that are available to us on the internet.”

Dan added: “When you look at the chaos of the internet and various online communities, I think it is good to see when people are creating content that can make people feel better.

“For all of the terrifying chaos of the freedom of the internet and creating on YouTube, it also lets people emerge that may not have been represented, you can create the content that you wish someone was making for you.

“And I think that’s one of the best things.”

#daniel howell #danisnotonfire #dan #phan #mine #interview

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meta-squash · 3 years

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So, last night I had a thought about self-harm (and addiction) and the reaction or framing from the press re: Richey Edwards vs Peter Doherty.

(This went off on a tangent, I’m sorry if it’s a little nonsensical and also I know my opinions are maybe kind of controversial.)

[Blanket TW for discussion of self-harm, eating disorders, and addiction in this post]

My best friend and I were having a conversation last night about self-harm as a coping mechanism and how people who have never self-harmed before don’t understand it and don’t know how to react to it, among other aspects of the subject. Later that got my brain on a different train going in a similar direction but a different destination.

I was thinking about the difference between the media interest surrounding Richey Edwards and Peter Doherty, and how the media framed their struggles and problems etc. (There is a slight difference between the two given that the Manics never got huge in the media and Richey wasn’t around for the explosion of internet tabloid culture.)

But my thought starts out with this: Peter and Richey seem to have done similar types of self-harm in similar amounts, and yet it is Richey’s self-harm that got all the media attention. Richey’s alcoholism and anorexia were not as chaotic or as....public?...as Peter’s drug problems, but it was all but ignored by the media even when he was fairly open about it.

Aside from the original 4REAL incident, which was a complex combination of situationist spectacle, self-expression/release of frustration, and intense message to the industry, Richey’s other moments of self-harm seem to be a more (for lack of a better word) normal level; they seem to have mostly been smaller, shallower cuts or cigarette burns. Aside from the one other recorded incident in Amsterdam ‘94 where Richey cut his chest enough to need stitches, there are no other instances on record of moments at the level of the 4REAL incident. Richey’s moments of self-harm seemed to typically be a more moderate coping mechanism rather than a tendency towards grievous injury. And yet the media’s main focus when it came to Richey was his self-harm and the spectacle of it rather than his lyrics or his other obvious struggles with alcohol and eating disorders.

And it’s interesting to compare that to Peter’s self-harm. I don’t think he’s ever had a moment like 4REAL, but he has used moderate cutting and cigarette burns presumably as a coping mechanism. His “strop” at Brixton ‘04 being the most outwardly dramatic and maybe the closest to 4REAL. But there are plenty of photos or footage of him with visible cuts and/or cigarette burns. And yet it doesn’t seem to be something the press really cared about.

On the flip side, there’s Peter’s addiction and all the media craze surrounding that. (As an aside, I cannot imagine how awful it must have been to have the media obsessing over your drug use while telling you to get better while essentially being its cause.) The press practically documented Peter’s every move re: his drug use and addiction. It was sensationalized and plastered everywhere and this obsessive attention was placed on it.

Which is the opposite of what happened to Richey’s problems. He talked fairly openly about his alcoholism in a number of interviews but rarely was he directly asked about it. Off the top of my head I can’t think of any interview that directly asked him about his eating disorders either, but he did mention some aspects of that in a few interviews (most notably his last ever TV interview for some Swedish channel).

Part of this difference in media focus kind of makes sense. The media picks the thing that’s more dramatic and crazy-sounding and a bigger spectacle. For Richey, it was self-harm, because he started with a proverbial bang by coming out the gate with the 4REAL incident that catapulted the Manics into the eye of the industry proper (despite the fact that he never reached that intense level again). For Peter, it was his drug abuse partly because of its more widespread chaos (drinking alone in your room is not as interesting or glamourous as smoking crack at wild parties, plus a dramatic band breakup draws readers) and partly because of his proximity to Really Famous People (ie Kate).

I guess it just interests me how the media decides which thing is more “concerning” and how that false concern in fact fuels the very thing it pretends to be so worried about.

The 4REAL incident was a shocking thing; it seems as though over the years the remaining Manics have come to acknowledge that that was pretty much the point. Nicky called it an “amazing, fantastic statement” in the 98 Up Close documentary. It’s something that was outside of Richey’s other self-harm because it was very much for a spectacle (JDB does say in the same docu that he was pretty sure Richey had sort of planned it). But none of Richey’s other moments of self harm were as public or as performative. I’d even say his Bangkok chest-cutting was only partially performative, considering how horrific the band considers that trip to have been. But really, his self-harm seemed to be mostly a private, personal thing, a coping mechanism. And yet it was pretty much all the press focused on, ignoring the alcoholism and anorexia that a) were likely actually affecting his ability to function and b) were likely bigger problems that the self-harm was used to balance out. The remaining band have talked about Richey’s drinking and how it affected him and made it difficult for him to function, and none of them ever really talk about Richey’s anorexia but looking at photos of him in 1994 you can really see the toll it takes on him. But the press weren’t interested in that.

And again, similarly, Peter’s drug use was fascinating to the press because it was dramatic and chaotic and an interesting spectacle. But after reading the Books Of Albion etc it sure seems like the press were major instigators of a lot of Peter’s problems and his need to use drugs to cope and/or escape. They ignore his self-harm because it’s not as interesting as his addiction; the opposite of the “mundanity” of Richey’s introverted alcoholism.

The press chooses which problem it’s “concerned” about depending on which one is a more interesting, easily-maintained spectacle. If it can flaunt “concern” in order to goad or stress their victim into doing that thing more, it can perpetuate that cycle: “we’re so concerned about you, look we’ve written an article on your drug-induced antics/your dramatic self-harming tendencies with pictures and misquotes and misunderstanding, oh we’re so concerned we’ve parked ourselves outside your venue and/or house to ask intrusive questions about your problems rather than your art, wait why are you still struggling with this drug/self-harm problem we said we were concerned about you, look we’ve written another article about how you’re struggling and we’re concerned but we haven’t actually asked you what’s wrong or how to help or done the most obvious thing which is leave you alone” ad nauseum.

Plus, these things are always appropriated by the press rather than a request made for clarification from the person. The victim’s candid thoughts about their hurt or their reasons for needing this coping mechanisms are not actually heeded but are twisted round and into part of the “story” rather than taken seriously as an explanation or a plea for the media to fuck off because they’re exacerbating the problem.

And now I go into more theoretical ramblings.

(Side note and/or clarification or...something: I can speak from long-term experience when it comes to self-harm as a coping mechanism etc, but I have not personally dealt with drug addiction so when I’m talking about that, it’s definitely as an outsider. I have friends who are recovering addicts and who I’ve known during their more intense struggles but I have not experienced it myself, like, in my own brain/body.)

Something my best friend and I were discussing in the conversation that triggered this entire thought-train is self-harm as seen by outsiders/people who have never self-harmed or thought about it in any seriousness. (And here comes some more serious discussion, as a warning.)

We talked about how there really isn’t a good argument against self-harm as a coping mechanism. (And I know my opinions here are probably controversial.) Most seem to center around “healthy” coping mechanisms vs “unhealthy” but if it’s your own body and you aren’t hurting anyone else, who’s to say what’s what? The other problem re: “healthy” coping mechanisms (like taking a bath, treating yourself, etc) is that the concern against self-harm seems to be that it isn’t addressing the underlying issue that requires the coping mechanism. But neither does doing some skin care or eating an apple (that is, if the problem is a stressor outside of needing sustenance or being able to do something “relaxing” enough to actually relax). That isn’t to say that self-harm is a good reaction to every stressful moment, but it truly is a very singular type of stimulation and release that is sometimes the only effective method of reacting to and coping with an internal or external stressor.

As a clarification, most acts of self-harm are not to the severity level of 4REAL. Cigarette burns and collections of minor-to-moderate cuts are much more common, neither of which are particularly threatening to the overall wellbeing of the person.

The other thought about self-harm and the reason for the media’s focus on it is the discomfort of and fascination a “badge” of struggle. When you’re depressed and you can’t get out of bed, it’s not like you get up a few days later and there’s a big sign that says “Was Depressed, Couldn’t Move,” or if you feel stressed and overwhelmed so you go drink wine in the bath, you don’t spend the rest of the day with some sort of sign telling other people that you felt bad so you bathed. But self-harm is a personal coping mechanism with evidence attached. And that evidence makes people who can’t understand it uncomfortable. Self-harm leaves a mark which other people are confronted by and they don’t know how to react because they cannot imagine how that can be something that helps. Self-harm is a “badge” of struggle and/or coping--not that it’s a proud mark or anything, just that it’s visible to others in a way that stands out and is singled out. I’ve gone out in public in my pajamas after not getting out of bed for 5 days and nobody looked at me funny or asked me why I looked all rumpled. But I’ve had random strangers at the grocery store ask me about the self-harm scars on my upper arms. Scars are a sign of hurt or stress etc that are visible to others which means they feel compelled to confront their feelings about it and often come up uncomfortable and not understanding and confused.

Similarly, I think drug use/addiction can sometimes be a similar “badge” of struggle, especially if it’s apparent onstage or during various public appearances. It’s something that people outside of it don’t understand. Likely they don’t understand the use of drugs as something other than “for fun.” People don’t understand the depths of using drugs as escape from or coping with (or both) stressors. Raw dogging reality is kind of a tall order if reality is overwhelming and stressful to a degree that’s difficult or impossible to control and/or manage. Not to mention using drugs for coping or escape then can lead to dependency and addiction and that’s a whole new game. Because, you know, that’s the thing: it’s not just about kicking an addiction. If you try to kick an addiction without replacing it with something else, you can pretty easily fall back into it because it’s not just a physical dependency, it’s a way to deal with reality. If you’re trying to go from a using a crutch to deal with reality to straight up raw dogging it without a fallback crutch, it’s gonna be real hard. In terms of a “badge” of struggle I think that use of drugs where intoxication is more obvious or more intense than, say, weed, people are uncomfortable. With a drug’s effects on behavior, I’m sure, but also with the outward signs that the person is obviously using a coping mechanism to deal with stresses or hurts.

In both situations it’s an exposure of this internality that outsiders can’t fully understand or touch. Everyone’s reasons for self harm or drug use are going to be different. The “benefit” that the coping mechanism brings is going to be different for everyone. And it especially means that strangers who don’t have experience with these things cannot fathom them and cannot comprehend them. There’s that desire to understand, that curiosity, (and sometimes an actual desire to help), but no one can read another person’s mind or understand their internality completely, and the visuals of self harm or of drug use are a very intense and forward reminder of that.

And I think those “badges” of struggle are something the media loves to capitalize on, because they can be turned into a spectacle and can be monetized due to outsiders’ discomfort. People watch horror movies or read tabloids because it makes them uncomfortable from a safe distance; these things aren’t happening to them, but another person’s obvious pain/fear/sadness/struggle/etc is just discomforting and strange enough to evoke a dark fascination rather than a total rejection. And the cycle continues as the media capitalizes on their victim’s stress and their coping with that stress, and which then causes more stress which then causes a need for a more intense coping or escaping mechanism, etc.

To bring it back to my original point, the reason the press focused on Richey’s self-harm (despite it being not too terribly excessive or intense) and not his addiction or ED problems, and the reason the press focused on Peter’s addiction and not his self-harm is because of the degree and type of fascination/discomfort those things brought. Richey’s self-harm was interesting enough and obvious enough that they could show lurid photos of his scabs and scars and talk to him about it, but he did his drinking in private and didn’t really cause any sort of scene onstage. And Peter’s drug use was interesting enough and public enough that they could show lurid photos of it as well as collect all sorts of gossip and rumour and twisted-around tales while his self-harm clearly wasn’t as dramatic or fascinating to them. People can read the tabloids and be darkly fascinated by a person cutting themselves up but maybe not by someone drinking at night in their bed (because that’s boring to read about). People can read the tabloids and be gleefully horrified by abuse of class A drugs and the actions/behavior surrounding that but that’s going to be more interesting than a person stubbing a cigarette out on their arm in frustration and despair. It’s all about what can be painted in a more dramatic light. It’s all about what internal things can be made public.

#self harm tw #eating disorder tw #drug abuse tw #addiction tw #this went a lot of places #i know my opinions re: self harm as a coping mechanism are maybe kind of controversial #richey edwards #pete doherty #manic street preachers

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thelastyetfabolousmidwestmadman · 3 years

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That One Fanfic Idea I Had That Was Too Fucked Up For Me

So picture this.

Your watching Highschool DXD with your mother. It’s weird I know but my mom has done much more disgusting stuff so it seems rather normal in comparison...

No? You Don’t want to picture it?

Kay, now stop picturing it, cause you’re either squicked out or have issues so imagine just watching alone, with a friend, or if good fortune strikes you the best girlfriend/Boyfriend ever.

But lets talk about YOU.

You are a lonely depressed coed, who straight out of high school suffered one of the most painful experiences of your life. The one you love the most just broke up with you for reasons you don’t understand or can comprehend at the time.

For brevity’s sake I won’t tell the cause of what happened between me and my ex. I think some things should remain private and everyday I’m regretful for how I acted and wish that things could have gone differently. That is the past now and it should only be revisited to show how much you changed for the better.

You present yourself a mask of happiness when in reality you are in so much pain you are genuinely considering suicide but in a attempt to keep your mind off the pain, you listen to music that you never liked before because what you loved reminds you of them, and most importantly you watch shows that you previously had no interest in due to a desperate attempt to feel something, anything.

Its been nearly four years since that happened and some things are better but the scars still bleed deeply in the sides of my cerebrum. Today while I still have many issues and I wont pretend to have them together, but with the passing of time wounds become less salted and eventually will heal. Parts of myself I lost I’ve regained and that has made me proud but in other ways my trauma made myself break in two more then shatter. I may never be the same again but that doesn’t mean I could be something new or better.

Some of you might me wondering, “Why Madman, why are you talking about this now.” Well if there is one positive thing I can say about what happened is that it made ma a better writer. I now take my time, and don’t stress out about due dates. Since I experience one of the worst experiences of my life, I could greater write and understand the pain, sadness, and fears the characters I adapted experienced. I guess talent increases through suffering and struggle. I guess the best I can say was before I wrote like a child who hears a song and only focuses on the feelings in their simplistic form while now the adult who has life experience and sense the greater meaning.

But even now I still have so much to learn, and improve from! Sometimes I look at both my ongoing and old work with a equal measure of fondness and disappointment knowing what I know now. Even after the tragedy, I wrote in stasis for a while and works like Goodbye Innocence could have started less like a soup opera and be better for it. But suddenly I had a ephinany. I couldn’t allow myself to keep my writing at this level with the lackadaisical attitude I had before. I had to try harder! And that meant updating less and taking my time to get back in touch in why I loved writing so.

Then it hit me. The childish magic and wonder I got from writing hasn’t left me at all, even at my lowest most pathetic moments. There are people better then me and instead of repeatedly getting down on myself, I accepted my limitations and regained my enthusiasm that I thought lost.

But briefly over a period of twenty months my mind sorta went to a dark, bitter place and I sorta gave in into nihilism and despair. I kept thinking about Deconstructionism in general and what it could be applied. As you could guess, my mind landed on one show in particular.

So I kept stretching out my mind, in a rather feverish pace, thinking about how could I turn Highschool DXD dark? I mean the show is literally nothing but fanservice and tame ultraviolence how can anyone possibly make that edgy? Even without Funimation’s help the show is so ludicrous how could anyone take a dark fic seriously?

Well... Unfortunately for my sins, I came up with one.

I thought about Issei when I got to the Diadora Asteroth part. I thought about how hypocritical he could be at times considering how he tried to influence Gasper into stopping time in order to fondle unknowing women, which is pretty much beyond comedic anime perversion and more Diadora levels of sexual predation.

Granted, I’ve long since learned that if you spend all the time thinking about the unfortunate implications of jokes, plotlines, and character arcs, particularly in politically astute context like myself, you’re quickly drive yourself crazy and be unable to enjoy any work of fiction ever. There are some that are admittedly more egregious than others but author’s intent, values dissonance/resonance, and alternative implications are important to examine as well. Life is too short to turn into a zealot and their are other social-economic problems that require requisitely radical solutions like Medicare For All, Reparations, BDS, etc that are more important to focus on then minor shit like this but anyway why the fuck am I rambling, you didn’t read this far to hear me pontificate on politics, back to the point.

TRIGGER WARNING from this point onwards

So the idea goes like this. The girls of Rias’s harem fall in love with Issei just like in canon. But what if said love is only due to Ddraig’s influence? What it Issei now had a excuse and means to justify his perversions and channel them into outright sexual and emotional abuse?

Yeah I don’t particularly feel like going further into what I entailed other than saying that it got really graphic and disturbing. So why you may ask, why would someone who was infamous for his rape fics be unable to write this of all things?

I couldn’t stomach it.

The amount of talent required at the time was beyond me and I think it’s beyond me even now but lets pause for a second and really think about this. This is something that I have no experience but sadly too many people do. IF I got even the most single fact wrong, I simply wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

Even worse, the part that I would be at most knowledgeable about, the emotional aspect of abuse, would bring up memories that I would rather not think about.

You don’t like fics like this out of passion or joy, you write them out of sheer artistic conveyance to a particular issue. You write them cause you are in pain. You write them to punish yourself. You write them to reveal a dark part of yourself you suppress with thousands of years of civilization and morality. It would be an all around miserable experience for everything.

And why would I do that to myself and others? That is not the sign of a healthy mindset and it is counterproductive to the reason I write dark fics in general.

So I am happy to toss this idea in the bin. I can’t stop anyone from doing this idea, all power to you, but I don’t want to read it. Perhaps my curiosity would get to the better of me.

Either way, I say goodbye to this fic, and hopefully this painful period of my life.

Peace.

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sylvie-writes · 4 years

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Lonely Weekend

a/n: this one is quite the rollercoaster. also a quick psa.

A. I’ve never written for Ari Levinson nor have I seen the movie sooooo...

B. I just wrote this to give y’all a little something and it’s not rlly proofread.

C. And finally, yes this is another Kacey Musgraves song. Just feedin my addiction.

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely weekend

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely feelin' without you

It had been a few months since you’d seen Ari. Almost every night, you’d try to call him despite the crazy difference in time that separated you both. Unfortunately, four out of the seven times you would call, the answer dial would echo in your ear. With a defeated sigh, you’d place the handset back on the receiver, going back to whatever was keeping you busy at the time.

About a month ago, Ari had called you, catching you off guard as he was never the one to initiate the call.

“Guess what, sweetheart! I’m coming home!”

His words brought tears of joy to your eyes, causing your pitiful sniffles to travel through the phone.

“Oh sweet girl, don’t cry! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

After the longest four days of your life, you dashed out of work and straight to the airport. You waited and waited at the terminal for an eternity, puffs of smoke suffocating your nostrils and loudly spoken words surrounding your mind. When you caught sight of Ari’s gorgeous face, all of the nuisances from before didn’t matter, and you practically ran through the crowd of exiting passengers just to run into his arms.

Ari chuckled and dropped his bags, spinning you around in his arms and ignoring the annoyed huffs of the remaining passengers who were trying to pass you both. He pressed his lips against yours in a kiss you both savored.

For a good month, everything seemed right as rain between you and Ari. Things honestly couldn’t have gone better, yet when you and Ari started to fall apart, it happened in small and unnoticeable increments.

Monday, I was gone, and Tuesday, you were working late

Wednesday went to hell, and Thursday kinda had the wait, yeah

So far everything imaginable that could go wrong, went wrong this very week. Reality hit you like a freight train, knocking you out of your blissful little bubble with Ari.

Monday, you had left for a business meeting a few hours away, something you honestly didn’t want to show up for. You spent more time driving than you did in the actual meeting, which was aggravating as they could have sent someone else in your place. You went home that night, hoping to have Ari hold you in his arms, yet he was knocked out cold in bed and you didn’t want to bother him.

The next day, Ari had gone into work as you stayed home, the two of you switching places pretty much. Around noon, Ari had called, saying he’d be working late. It did hurt you just a bit as you had planned a nice dinner for the man. You had even spent all morning preparing food and such. On the phone, you acted as if everything was okay, but this was the last straw and you broke down into tears.

Wednesday, you got some news that you had been laid off. It seemed so surreal and you were just a walking zombie for the rest of the day. The most you had said all day was “yeah.” Ari was a bit worried, but he gave you your space and allowed you to carry on. If only he had seen how broken you were before he rushed out to work.

You spent a majority of Thursday in a weird funk, after all you had been laid off for heaven knows how long. It wasn’t that you were displaying anger or sadness, you were just numb, a blank expression on your face as you went along. Ari had left early that morning and you hadn’t even noticed to be honest. Actually, you hadn’t even noticed it was Thursday yet.

Friday, you were leavin', goin' out of town again

I should see what's goin' on, only got a couple friends

“Hey sunshine, how are you feelin?”

Ari kissed your bare shoulder as you continued to wash the dishes, a small smile on your face. The man wrapped his arms around your waist, placing kisses up your neck, his beard tickling you slightly. Yesterday, you eventually cried out all of your feelings and just accepted your fate as it was handed to you on a silver platter. Now, you were just happy to spend some time with Ari.

You quickly dried your hands on a dish towel and turned in his embrace, running your hands through his long hair.

“Oh Ari. What are we going to do, my love?”

He sighed and placed a gentle kiss on your nose.

“We will figure it out, Sweets.”

Ari pulled you closer to his chest, resting his lips by your ear.

“Oh honey, I hate to do this to you, but I have to leave. Tonight.”

Your heart stopped for a minute and you just nodded, some silent tears streaming down your face and onto his neck. Ari felt terrible, but there was nothing he could say or do that would help. Instead, he just rocked you in his arms until you started to nod off on his shoulder. Gently, he scooped you and took you to bed. Ari had to leave in a few hours, so he dedicated to join you under the covers, spooning your fragile body, much tinier in comparison to his broad physique.

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely weekend (so lonely)

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely feelin' without you

Ari left that night as he had said, kissing you with a passion and then leaving, being pulled away by work. You stayed curled up in bed, even changing into Ari’s most recent tee shirt, snuggling up into his pillow as well. Needless to say, you wished he was there with you. Being in his arms felt like nothing could get to you, whether that be bad news or bad friends. You felt protected and loved when you were with Ari.

Guess everybody else is out tonight (out tonight)

Guess I'm hangin' by myself, but I don't mind (I don't mind)

Saturday rolled around and you were yet to hear from Ari. He should have called you as he was still in America, just a week long business trip, that’s all. You moped along, pulling yourself together even though there was nothing to do. Your friends that lived in town were most likely busy, after all it was the weekend and you should have been busy too. It did get a bit depressing when your negative thoughts were the only thing keeping you company. They made you realize that you were going to be all alone when you needed people the most.

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely weekend, yeah

I got a million things to do, but I haven't done a single one, no

And if my sister lived in town, I know that we'd be doin' something fun

Some would say you had responsibilities to take care of, but you honestly didn’t feel like doing any of them. None of those chores involved seeing your loved ones, instead leaving you subject to the degrading voices in your head. One thing was for sure, and that was you weren’t going to be tending to those at the moment. With nothing to do, you tried calling your sister, the one who always made your day, just by a simple phone call. Unfortunately, just like Ari, when you needed her most, she wasn’t there to answer.

I keep lookin' at my phone, puttin' it back down

There's a little part of me that's got the fear of missin' out, and

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely weekend (so lonely)

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely feelin' without you

You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the phone as if it would ring from intimidation. Minutes passed and no one called. The little part of you that had hope was crushed and you just leaned back onto the bed, sighing that no one called. Maybe they had forgotten about you. At least that is what your thoughts left you to believe. You knew they weren’t most likely true, so you just shut your eyes, hoping to take a nap and drift off to some lovely dreamland.

I guess everybody else is out tonight (out tonight)

Guess I'm hangin' by myself, but I don't mind (I don't mind)

Everyone was gone, out having fun. You had yourself, and that was enough for now.

You could manage, you’d done it before. But it was different now. Things were tough and you wanted someone to talk to.

But all you had was you and that was enough.

Right?

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely weekend, yeah

Even if you got somebody on your mind

It's alright to be alone sometimes, sometimes

Ari was on your mind, even when you woke from your nap, he was still there. His adorable smile engraved into your mind. You woke up, seeing the sun had set and it was not around nine. With a bit of a fresh mindset, you left the bed and moved to the couch. To pass time, you decided to learn solitaire. It was a last resort, but it was better than taking another nap.

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely weekend (so lonely)

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely feelin' without you

I guess everybody else is out tonight (out tonight)

Guess I'm hangin' by myself, but I don't mind (I don't mind)

After spending an hour attempting to learn solitaire, you tiredly gave up and turned to the tv, flipping through the channels looking for any form of entertainment. As you did so the front door creaked open, although you had just assumed the sound was on tv. Suddenly, a warm hand ran over your sweater clad arm, making you jump in your seat. You snapped your head in the culprit’s direction, your stern expression softening when you saw Ari’s bright smile. His face was illuminated by the tv’s light giving you a clear pathway to his lips. In no time, you crashed your lips against his, grabbing at his shirt and practically pulling his upper half over the back of the couch. Ari pulled back laughing, taking one hand to smooth your hair as you lovingly gazed up at him.

The man swung his legs over the couch in a swift jumping movement. You giggled at his actions, pulling yourself into his lap for a much needed hug.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m here now.”

It's a lo, it's a lo, it's a lonely weekend

Or so you had thought...

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans x reader

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #461

“this city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me?”

Have you ever wanted a Nikon camera? Or do you have one already? My camera before the one I have now was a Nikon D3200. I use a Canon now. Who was the last person (if anyone) you said Happy Birthday to? A friend. Do you have Photoshop? If so, how often a day do you use it? I have it, but I barely use it nowadays. I use it to edit photos for character profiles or profile pictures, add a watermark for my actual photography, and I used to make Mark-oriented gifs like crazy. They mostly did really well, so... I might wanna get back into that and get That Sweet Validation. Do you watch any shows that you know your parents wouldn’t approve of? No. Have any of your exes gotten married or had kids since your breakup? None, I think. Do either of your parents have a mental illness? My mom has depression. Can you tolerate children for a long period of time? NO. Have you ever lived with someone you felt thoroughly uncomfortable around? No. Are you into dubstep? Yeah, I tend to enjoy it. Zelda or The Sims games? Can I pick neither? lol I don't feel very much at all for The Sims, and Zelda games have always looked... boring to me? Like I've watched most of the Game Grumps' playthroughs of all the games, and they make it hilarious of course, but the games themselves? Nah. Are you terrible at assigning bands their proper genre? YES YES YES YES YES YES. Even in my preferred category, that being metal, FUCK if I know the sub-genre. Have you ever made out in a closet? No, that shit sounds claustrophobic as hell. Have you ever been to a laser tag place? Yeah, on a triple-date once! It was SO fun. How do you wanna celebrate your next birthday? Have a couple friends over, pig out at The Cheesecake Factory. o3o Do you tease your parents about them being old? No, especially not Mom. She's self-conscious about getting older. Are you in love with someone? "In love" is a bit too far, buddy. But I love someone. Have you ever ridden a unicycle? No. Have you ever wanted a pet bunny? I was VERY serious about getting a lop-eared bunny for quite a while, but we just couldn't afford to adopt one (even off Craigslist) and get a cage for it, toys, etc. Are the bottom of your feet clean? I HATE seeing the bottom of my feet. Not because they're dirty, but because it's Callus City. I ain't even fuckin jokin'. Do you like really salty food? Yeah. :x When’s the last time you bled a lot? Well, I just recently finished my cycle after not menstruating for three or four MONTHS, so you can figure that one out. Have you ever watched a needle go into your own skin? Yeah. I like to know exactly when it's coming. Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo? Yes to both. When you’re done eating finger foods, do you usually lick your fingers? Usually kasdjlf;kalsdjf shut up ok I like food. What’s the most racist thing you have ever said? As a little kid, when my really good friend (a neighborhood kid, even) asked if he thought we'd be a good couple, I told him no because "blacks and whites don't date" or something like that. It was an idea I'd never been exposed to before; the idea was so foreign to little kid me. I had no idea I was being racist. It ended in a small fight and we didn't talk for a few days 'til he came to my house telling Mom that he had to "be a man" and fix this and if that ain't the cUTEST SHIT RIGHT THERE. We were friends again after that. He's still on my Facebook, and he actually semi-recently got married! :') Do you know someone that is mute, deaf or blind? No. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Does weed smell good? Or no? Ugh, no. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? Successful and happy she kept pushing. Mama to so many reptiles that are blessed with the best lives possible in human care. Got at least one amazing book out there. If she's reading this, you've fucking got this. <3 Would you like to have twins? Mother of fucking god, no. Even if I WANTED kids, do fucking not give me twins. Who was the last person you got into an argument with? My mom. Want to have kids before you’re 30? Once again, I don't want kids, but IF I did, that'd be preferable before the risk of birth defects and other issues climb with age. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? My older sister has my initial. Do you think somebody’s in love with you? No. Do you think you and your best friend will be friends in ten years? Yes, I genuinely do. Who were the last people to hang out at your house? Miss Tobey, our friend and landlord. Does anyone like you? Welp... I hope he still does. Guess we'll figure that out soon. What person on your Facebook do you talk to the most? VIA Facebook? Probably my friend Lyndsey. She likes to comment on stuff I share. Do you want to fall in love? I do, but I'm also utterly horrified to and risk being hurt again. Are you interested in more than one person at the moment? No. Once I realized I was so deeply into Girt, all other romantic feelings kinda just... poofed. How was your last break up? Civil and done with both of our best interests in mind. What is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to say? Probably the first time I admitted I needed to go to the hospital for suicidal thoughts. I was so, so scared of what it was going to be like. What is the hardest thing you NEEDED to hear? That if Jason wasn't happy with me, he had every right to move on. She was right. Do you treat yourself well? No... but I'm trying to change that. What was the last song you sang out loud to? This "Set Fire to the Rain" cover. Do you take good pictures? I think I do? Have you ever done any internship? No. What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? Holy shit, so much, especially when it comes to morality and political stances. I am now a massive supporter and member of the LGBTQ+ community, I'm pro-trans rights, pro-choice... I've done like a dozen 180s in a lot of topics. Do you know anyone who has a PhD? I mean, some doctors, but no one in my truly personal life. Do you know anyone who works as a lawyer? Yes: my cousin. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? LAKSDJFKLA;JWD NEVER AND I PRAY TO THE HOLY LORD THAT I NEVER DO. Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not massively? Like literally everyone gets them and is natural and inevitable. Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? I know one alcoholic, and one that's probably borderline. I also have two friends who are extremely addicted to weed. Look me in the eyes and say it's not an addictive substance and I wouldn't believe you one bit. Is there a video or computer game that you can get lost in for hours? Eh, sometimes World of Warcraft. Some days I'm really into it, and others I barely touch it. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? I have no clue. I don't even remember movies that were made *for* Disney exclusively. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. We have a friend from the dance studio mow the lawn. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? My iPod has a whole live album of Ozzy. Did you or do you listen to Britney Spears songs? Both did and do. Britney is a boss bitch. Does your favorite band have a male or female lead singer? Male. Have you seen the movie Moulin Rouge? No, but I've seen some of that P!nk music video of the song and it brings out the Gay in me. Do you have a key to anything besides your house? No. Could you ever complete a 500-piece puzzle? I've done that before. I miss doing puzzles... Have you ever been to any sort of convention? I went to a reptile expo with Sara!! I REALLY want to go to another when my legs are stronger and can handle standing and walking so much. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom. Have you ever tried to walk on a moving vehicle and fallen over? No????? What is your favourite kind of bread? Is there any of that in your house? Pumpernickel. No. Are/were you in the school band, and if so, what instrument did you play? I played the flute all through middle school and I wanna say half of HS. Have you ever ordered an unusual drink at a bar? Never even been to one. Have you ever been pulled aside by security at the airport? I think once for some reason I don't recall? What is your favourite seasonal candy? (only available at certain times) Gingerbread men, probs. Or chocolate bunnies!!! :') How do you feel right now? My stomach is KILLING me. I'm super excited though that Girt is coming over tomorrow. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. What would you like your generation to change? How we treat nature. Is there anyone that you truly could not live without? No. I learned that is a very unhealthy mentality to have. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I just hate carrots. What restaurant did you last go out to dinner at with friends? With friends? I couldn't even guess. Does your refrigerator have an ice maker or do you use ice cube trays? It has an ice maker. Do you have a favorite sibling, if any? No; I love them all. Do you have a favorite brand of clothing? I STAN CLOAK. How’s the love life? Something new might start tomorrow. I think it will. Do you watch the news? No; that shit is depressing. Who do you admire most? Mark. Do you have a favorite album? Black Rain by Ozzy Osbourne takes the cake and always will.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''city'' by hollywood undead

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soccer-fanfiction · 3 years

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Parker Arranges A Funeral

Hey everyone, welcome back. This is my 7th story, featuring Scott Parker of Bournemouth (although in the story, he was still at Fulham). Fast Fernando, Esther Parks and Alicia Lowell are my OCs.

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IT was another normal Tuesday in London. Scott Parker had just woken up. It was a good day. He had sung in the shower, and nobody had interrupted. Unlike the day before, when Josh Maja had burst in. Parker had had to reach for what he called his “anti-public-nudity-machine”.

Which just happened to be a bath towel.

Now he was dressed and in the kitchen, sipping a steaming mug of coffee. Secretary Esther Parks walked into the kitchen. He had just hired her that week.

“Morning, Mr. Parker,” she said, reaching for the coffeemaker.

“G’morning,” he said. “Esther, I told you already. Just Scott.”

“Okay, ‘Just Scott’,” she said with a teasing tone. “Ready to make plans?”

“We’ll need it,” he said. “If we’re going to beat the drop, I have to have a plan for every possible situation. But I need to step out first.”

“You’re a top-flight manager, Scott.”

“Even top-flight managers need to get into nature.”

Parker stepped out the back door and drew a breath. He loved the outdoors. It wasn’t that Craven Cottage wasn’t cozy. Far from it. He loved every corner of that place like the stadium was himself. But the outdoors, with the trees and sky and birds, held a special appeal to him. He slipped his feet out of his shoes, digging his toes into the gravelly soil and grass. Tiny violets shyly peeked from the grass as, one foot after another traversed the lawn as he went over to a special place, one of joy…

It was Areola who came out. Alphonse Areola, with his goatee and purple shirt, discovered the manager in the yard. He was on his knees and mumbling something.

“What on Earth is going on?” said Areola.

“You wouldn’t know.”

Areola took a step back and surveyed the scene. Parker, phone in hand, was kneeling in front of a bare patch of land. In front of him was what seemed to be a mass of dried flowers. Instantly, Areola remembered…

“They’re your sunflowers, no?” he said. The responding nod was all Areola needed to know.

“Hello? Anybody home?” Areola called into the door of the Chelsea stadium, Stamford Bridge.

N'golo Kante popped his head out. “Eh? Alphonse! Long time, man!”

“It has,” said Areola with a smile. He hadn’t seen Kante since the international break.

“How’s life in ‘The Zone’?” Kante said, referring to the player’s common term for the dreaded 18th, 19th and 20th places.

“Not bad, actually. I kept a clean sheet last time out.”

“Oh, congratulations! I scored a goal.”

“If only I was that lucky.”

“You will--if you’re El Loco.”

“I’m not crazy, N'golo.”

“So what brings you to the Blues?” said Kante as the two Frenchmen walked through the main hall.

“Depends if you know about Parker’s flowers,” said Areola, “or not.”

“Eh, Parker?”

“Our coach.” The two stopped at a huge mural. Areola had never seen it before. In it, a bunch of guys were lifting up a big silver trophy.

“Who’s that?” said Areola.

“Oh, him? Just the greatest coach of all time.”

The two whipped their heads around. A man in a black suit stood at the other end of the hall, leaning against the wall.

“Lampard!” said Kante. “What are you doing here? I thought you left London!”

“Well, I did, after Mr. German stuck his nose here,” said Frank Lampard. He fingered the collar of his blue shirt. “But I still visit once in a while. And this is my favorite mural of O Especial, the Special One.”

Kante rolled his eyes. “Mourinho again, right?”

“You’ll never catch a break from him.” The Englishman shook his head. “By Jove, I’m in Birmingham the other Wednesday, chatting with John and who shows up? Mr. Alwaysright. He pops up when you least expect him. Me, John, Didier, Guilherme, Petr, Scott, Olivier, David-- you name it, he’s there, blasting ‘Park the Bus’ at full volume.”

“Could we back up to the Scott part?” said Areola. “What’s he got to do with Jose Mourinho?”

“He was his player, who else? Scott Parker. Only made a handful of caps. Now the chap’s over at Fulham FC and the coach. By Jove, he’s relegating ‘em faster than a shire horse on the Grand National Course.”

“So you can help me with his sunflowers,” said Areola, which was more of a question than a statement.

“Sunflowers?” said Kante. “What sunflowers?”

“Ah, yes, his sunflowers,” said Lampard. “What happened? Weeds? Pesticides? Global warming?”

“I haven’t a clue, Lampard,” said Areola. “But apparently they died this morning.”

“Parker will be gutted,” said Lampard, shaking his head. “Those were special flowers.”

“Why were they so special, Lampard?” asked the Philippinian goalkeeper.

Lampard rubbed his chin in thought. “Well…”

It was the 2003-2004 season, with Jose Mourinho as our coach for the first time. And it was February, three days before Valentine’s Day. We had just beaten Wartsmouth by two goals to nil. But it was a special day for Parker. He had scored one of those goals, his first goal for Chelsea, and he was in seventh heaven. Mourinho had come in just that moment with a gold purse. We all stiffened at his presence: me, John, Didier. We were trying not to break out into grins, for we all thought the purse was ours. It was the beauty of a purse: gold, with a red silk lining. But he passed all of us until he reached the back of the room, where Scott was.

“Scott Matthew Parker,” he had begun--and Scottie shivered, for nobody ever referred to him by his full name-- “I have something for you.”

Scott had sat up fast--Mourinho had never given him anything but a rollicking before.

“I got this bag of Canadian sunflower seeds from my wife last weekend,” he began with a hint of a smile. “Trouble was, I never was much of a gardener. But you never say no to Matilda, and these were 100% sustainable, non-GMO sunflower seeds. So I’ve been waiting to give these seeds to the next player to score his first goal for us. That, Scott, is you.”

He had dropped the seeds in Scott’s lap. And a smile grew on his face as he realized the seeds were his!

“Really?” he had said, dumbfounded. ‘Really and truly, Boss?”

“Really and truly, Scott,” Mourinho had said, “although, I have no idea what that means.”

“And so, Parker had planted the sunflowers outside Stamford Bridge,” said Lampard. “Wherever he went, so did the flowers. And I’m guessing that now their time has come. They were 16 years old.”

“But you should have seen him when he just discovered the dead sunflowers,” said Areola. “He just knelt there. It was almost like he couldn’t believe it himself.”

“Well,” said Kante, “he should be better in a couple hours. I mean, they’re just plants--” The Malian was cut off by a high-pitched sound.

“Eh?” said the three, running outside. What they heard was beyond their brain capacity: a slow, mournful tune.

“LIEBESTRAUM #3?” said Areola. “Who on Earth plays that?!”

At that moment, Kante spied a familiar face on the path. It was--

The one and only Antonio Conte.

“Hey, guys!” he called, striding up the drive. “What’s all the talk about sunflowers?”

“Parker’s died,” said Kante.

Conte shook his head. “A life so short...and so young, too...couldn’t reach the stars, like he planned.”

“Not Parker, his sunflowers,” said Areola. “They wilted this morning.”

“Oh--well, that’s a relief,” said Conte. “I thought Parker’s funeral was going on and the sunflowers were on his wreath. Always better to lose plants than a person.”

“Antonio Conte, where do you get such ideas?” Lampard laughed. “We were talking about nothing of the sort.”

“Well, if you listened to the music you’d think it was a funeral!” Conte protested. “Believe me, I know music. Liebenstraume #3 is one of the most sorrowful pieces of music ever. Franz List was disturbed, all right. Only place I’ve ever heard it was on Very Depressing Violin Songs.”

“Where on Earth do you hear that?” said Areola.

“Channel 8 on European Radio.”

“Well, wherever you heard it,” said Kante, rolling his eyes, “I hear that song and it’s coming straight from the general direction of the River Thames!”

Seventeen minutes later, a very round Areola stuck his head out of the blueberry-less blueberry bush he was attempting to hide in. There, where the old sunflower garden was, laid a casket!

“Are you sure I’m not right?” Conte whispered.

As soon as the words were off his lips, Parker solemnly strolled into the garden. He opened the casket and laid a wrapped bundle in it. He then closed it and was off as silently and glumly as he had come. As soon as he was gone, everybody surged towards the casket.

“Loved and Lost’,” Lampard read the label. “I haven’t a clue what he means by that.”

“Well,” said Areola, “whatever he laid to rest in there, wasn’t named. And it wouldn’t be in such an informal manner, either.”

At that moment, Kante spied Parker on the drive, this time carrying a large wreath of white and black roses. He was heading towards the garden.

“Scott!” said Lampard. “Where have you been, lad? You don’t talk much these days!”

The Fulham gaffer just stayed quiet. He laid the wreath on the casket, then wrapped his scarf around him.

“Then, come to think of it,” said Lampard, “he doesn’t talk much at all usually.”

“Just wait until you see his mouth,” Areola warned. “But no, Parker. Could I be so bold to ask you--what’s in the...casket?”

Parker bit his lip. He looked away, facing the blowing north wind. His tan scarf flapped in the gale.

“It’s--okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” said Kante, trying to be sensitive. “I mean…”

Parker sighed. He turned to face the foursome. His mouth was pressed shut. “Sunflower...sunflower is gone. My, my sun-sunfl-sunflower…” He turned his back on the group again.

Areola rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. Just great. Nice job, N'golo.”

Kante made another snap decision, as he was often called to do when with Gerard. “Okay, Emergency Guys’ Night, now,” he said. “Meet me in half an hour.”

“But then it’d only be eleven-thirty in the morning,” said Conte.

“Meet. Me. In. Half. An. Hour.”

When Kante spoke with punctuation for emphasis, nobody dared disobey him. So they all met at a nice cafe in Paris near the Eiffel Tower at exactly eleven-thirty for an emergency meeting.

Kante stood up on the table to start the meeting. “Fellows of Providence--”

“We’re in France, not Rhode Island,” Lampard protested.

“Fellows of Providence,” Kante commenced with a side glare at Lampard, “I have strong evidence to believe that something else is bothering the Fulham manager, Scott Parker.”

“Come on,” said Areola. “I know you’re practical, N'golo, but those flowers were special to him.”

“Look,” said Kante. “I know about sentimental value and stuff, but they’re flowers. They are flowers, sunflowers. You can get the seeds at any gardening store. Maybe he’d be a little wistful, but a coffin and wreath? Come on. Next thing you know he’s going to host a funeral.”

“Come on,” said Conte. “There is no way he could host a--”

At that moment, a blur whizzed in. In two seconds, Fast Fernando, the mailman, was standing in front of them, four white envelopes in hand.

“Here’s your mail, dudes!” said the eighty-four year old with a smart salute, and whizzed off.

Conte opened his envelope. His eyes scanned the letter enclosed, then his mouth dropped open. Areola did the same.

Kante looked up from his invitation. “I told you so,” he said. “Funeral I predicted and funeral we got. Invitations to one, anyways.”

“For a bunch of sunflowers.” Conte rolled his eyes. “You’re right, Kante. I admit it. We have to snap him out of this.”

“But this isn’t simple,” said Lampard. “This is like the whole Princess Diana business: mawkish sentimentality all over again.”

“Then,” said Kante, “we’ll have to go easy on him.”

That weekend wasn’t the most memorable one for anybody closely associated with Fulham. First it was another dour and lifeless draw, this time at Brighton, and then the sunflowers’ funeral.

Contrary to his attitude that Wednesday, Conte was now just a touch sympathetic for the opposite gaffer. He was the last one in the room left with Parker as the latter pulled on a stark black trench coat. Usually he rocked the color black, but today it just seemed to heighten his somber demeanor--so much that Conte wasn’t sure he’d last the whole funeral.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” said Conte.

“I have to,” said Parker. Another look away, then he buried his head in his scarf. “And if anybody, it should be me.”

Outside, two dozen people were waiting for the ceremony to begin. Among them were John Terry, Didier Drogba, Frank Lampard, and of course, Jose Mourinho.

You couldn’t get a break.

“Mysterious funeral, this,” said Mourinho. “Wonder why the coffin is so small.”

“There isn’t even a coffin,” said Areola. “That’s what confuses me.”

“Maybe,” said Lampard, “he had a private burial.”

“Before the funeral?” said Mourinho. “I don’t think so.”

Parker strode out of the stadium towards the altar. He turned to face the crowd, and it was obvious to even the usually flippant Mourinho that he was deeply sorrowed.

“The lad,” said Terry. “Never seen him like this.”

“No state for getting un-relegated,” said Mourinho, before Lampard elbowed him. “Hey, ow!”

“Shush!” Drogba hissed.

Parker shuffled a bunch of papers and cleared his throat before Contenuing. “Today we are gathered here for..a very special woman.”

“WOMAN!!!” everybody’s minds screamed at the same time. Their faces, though, expressed their shock--all but one. Conte just stayed with his eyes fixated on Parker. The younger man was obviously choked up, and trying to keep eye contact with the crowd was obviously getting harder for him. He shut his eyes, though, and went on.

“Alicia Lowell Westwood, age 31, faithfully remained at my side from Newcastle to West Ham to everywhere else. And when I came to Fulham, she remained my closest friend.” He closed the book.

If confusion was a tremble, Kante’s brain was undergoing an earthquake. “He never told us about a lady,” he protested. “Never, ever.”

“And to think it was the sunflowers,” said Areola. “You wouldn’t!”

They quieted down though, when they heard a screech.

“I’d like you to please quiet down, crowd,” said the manager. Conte was beginning to note the crack in the Brit’s voice, which had only gotten worse as the funeral had gone on. “And if you would...flip your programmes to Page 3, you will...find…that it is...time for the….tributaries…”

“It’s getting harder and harder for him to speak, huh?” said Lampard.

“I still think he’s overdoing it,” a cloy Mourinho replied, flipping his collar back and forth.

Parker took a long breath and sat down at the piano. His fingers were obviously more playful than his mood, tinkering with the keys until he had seemed to find something pleasing. The crowd was enjoying the simple, if somewhat melancholic, melody. And then the enjoyment when a squeak of a voice bounced from Parker’s throat. “When you’re in a storm/ Hold your head up high--”

“You’ll Never Walk Alone by Judy Garland?” said Areola. “That’s a famous song.”

“It’s supposed to be triumphant and consoling,” said Kante. “And yet Parker’s voice makes it sound so...sombre.”

“Walk on through the wind/ Walk on through the rain/” Parker’s voice was cracking more and more as his fingers flew over the keys in stark contrast. Conte looked on, shaking his head. That’s when a voice called out from the crowd.

“Scott!” Esther Parks climbed up on the stage. She was wearing a black suit, as always, but her face seemed especially concerned as she came to join him.

“I’ve come to join you for the final notes, Scott,” Conte heard her whisper. “In case you don’t make it.”

“I will,” he whispered. “But thank you.” The final chords struck. “Walk on, walk on/ With hope in your heart/ And you’ll never walk alone/ You’ll never walk alone…” That was all he could take. He rotated the seat away from the crowd, leaving Sec. Parks to send the crowd away. She immediately went over to Parker, who was pushing the piano in.

“This never really was about your sunflowers, right?” she said.

Parker looked up at Sec. Parks, and he sighed. The coach was obviously miserable. “No, it wasn’t,” he finally said. “You actually thought so?”

“I did,” said Sec. Parks. She shrugged. “And really, I thought you were overreacting. Kante told me and said to go easy on you until after the funeral.”

Parker looked like he wanted to protest, but he stood up and looked at Sec. Parks in the face. “You thought I was overreacting over the death of my ex-secretary?”

Sec. Parks’s jaw dropped. “Your ex-secretary? You mean you had one before me?”

“Yes, for a long time,” said Parker. “She was my best secretary, but nobody knew how it was. We were managing together since I was managing the under-18 squad in London. And last month, I asked her...if she would like to be my co-manager.”

“You did?” said Sec. Parks. “What did she say?”

“She said that she didn’t...she was moving away from me because she was getting married to some guy in Edinburgh. She was getting on the airplane that afternoon, but she was going to miss me. We promised to write to each other every month and we said our good-byes. And then last week, the police called me to tell me that the car she had been taking with her fiancé crashed. She was buried that same day.”

Sec. Parks shook her head. “Why didn’t you just tell us, Scott? I was honestly thinking we should turn you over to a mental institution.”

Parker looked Sec. Parks in the face. “You’re right, Esther. I should have told you the truth, but...I was afraid to look weak.”

“Weak?” said Sec. Parks. She couldn’t believe it. “To get a team relegated and bring them back up again, that’s tough, Scott. You’re not weak at all.”

“You told me that before,” said Parker. “And you also said that it’s true that the strongest people aren’t afraid…”

“Not afraid of what?” said Sec. Parks.

“They’re not afraid...to show their emotions. Strong leaders whoop when elated, scream when infuriated, whack their heads when they’re confused, and...they can sing the blues when they feel it. What I’m saying is...strong people do cry. Strong people can…”

At that moment, Parker held Sec. Parks’s hand. His face was wet with tears, and abashed, he began rubbing furiously with a handkerchief. He didn’t look up at Sec. Parks, but just bent his head. Finally, he looked her in the eye again. Of course, the Welsh secretary had been watching the entire thing.

“Well,” she finally said after Parker had calmed down, “Conte’s right. But I think you still don’t get it.”

“I don’t?” Parker was now genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“You were hiding your face while shedding tears for three minutes,” Sec. Parks explained. “Then you looked up exactly when you stopped, and you blushed from embarrassment. So technically, you’re still ashamed to cry in public.”

“I am,” he admitted.

“Look,” said Sec. Parks. “You’ve had a tough day, Scott. Why don’t we take a walk? I’d like to show you something.”

“Fine with me, Esther,” said Parker. “It’s better than me moping around all day listening to old radio music.”

It was still a beautiful winter afternoon as Parker and Sec. Parks traversed the London sidewalks. The first snows were dusting the streets, and street constables were patrolling. They turned into a park, and bought steaming pretzels from a street cart. Finally, Sec. Parks led Parker to: a frozen lake.

“Look, Scott,” she said. “Do you remember this lake?”

“How could I forget?” said Parker. “The swans lived here.”

A whole flock of swans had set up housing in the lake and even had cygnets that spring.

“They did,” said Sec. Parks. “But do you remember what happened after?”

“I do,” said Parker. “The cygnets grew up, and some of the older adults passed on. Then last November, they all rose in one flight and flew away.”

“And we were gutted, right?”

“Obviously.”

“But what did you tell me?”

“I told you that with every thing that leaves and grieves us, another thing comes to bring us joy.” Parker’s face suddenly lit up. “That’s right! There’s always more joy!”

“See?” said Sec. Parks. “There’s a light at the end of this dark tunnel, Scott.”

Parker turned to the secretary. “Esther,” he said, “you’ve basically been keeping me from becoming insane these past few days.”

“It’s the least I could do, Scott,” she said. “But we still have to make a plan. Fulham isn’t going to save itself.”

“All true, Esther,” said Parker. “I was thinking of pulling a Mourinho au film noir.”

“Are you sure the bosses will let that sit?” said Sec. Parks. “You know how American impatience is.”

“Ah, you’re right,” said Parker. “But a film noir would be fun to perform. Maybe a redo of Casablanca.”

“Isn’t that a little old?” said Sec. Parks.

“Filme noirs are always old. But you’re right again. I doubt Guendouzi would like a film about before Morocco was an independent monarchy.”

“True.”

“What about Humphrey Bogart? Can’t go wrong with him.”

“A little pistol-y?”

“You’re always right, Esther.”

“I know.”

The next morning, Maja answered the door. Parker and Sec. Parks burst in, laughing.

“Explain what is going on?” Maja yelled.

“Well,” Sec. Parks breathed, “we kind of spent the whole night ice-fishing. I caught a minnow, but it got away.”

“I thought you were taking a walk?” said Maja.

“We kind of stretched the park visit,” said Parker. “After fishing, we swam.”

“In the ice-cold water?” Maja reached for the phone. “I’m calling the doctor.”

Odd, right? I know. But he looked so sad in December that I had to make an explaination.

By the way, Scott Parker and Esther Parks are not in love--they’re just very good friends. Maja doesn’t understand that.

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#scott parker #josh maja #esther parks oc #old chelsea players

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alwaysmarilynmonroe · 4 years

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It’s hard to believe 58 years to the day, on the night of August 4th, the world’s most famous Star would leave us all. Yes, I know a lot of you will be thinking, “wait, didn’t she die on the 5th?” – she was found in the early hours of that morning, and her death was announced then – so that is the “technical” date. However, as with many Marilyn “facts” that too is incorrect and so like every year, I will be posting this on the 4th.

I’m not going to write about all the ridiculous dramas and he said she said statements that have grown rapidly over the years, as they don’t deserve any more coverage. Whenever a major celebrity dies, the more shocking the statement, the more attention it gains, so much so that it’s almost became ingrained into society as being accepted as fact. But, I am going to have a big name and shame moment for the two main culprits – Robert Slatzer and Norman Mailer I’m looking at you both. Also Anthony Summers – you’re a piece of crap and I will never forgive you for publishing Marilyn’s autopsy photo in your toilet paper worthy biography.

Long story short as they don’t deserve any mention with Marilyn’s name – Slatzer created the whole Kennedy, Mafia and basically everything shit and defamatory written about Marilyn in the early 1970s. If you want to find out the actual truth with documented facts click HERE.

Sorry to disappoint any conspiracy lovers – Marilyn didn’t love JFK, nor did any of the Kennedy’s kill her, she died of an either accidental or intentional prescription drug overdose. Was I there? No, I wasn’t even alive, but it’s really not hard to disregard the nonsense and absurd claims, when you actually take the time to do a little (a lot in my case) of research.

Baby Norma Jeane in 1929.

Norma Jeane (left) and a friend at the Los Angeles Orphanage in 1936.

Norma Jeane at the Los Angeles Clifton Restaurant, which she attended with her then Husband Jim Doughtery in 1944.

Marilyn by Richard Miller in April 1946.

Marilyn by J.R. Eyerman in 1950.

Marilyn on her Doheny Drive Patio by Alfred Eisenstaedt in May 1953.

Marilyn in Korea visiting the Troops in February 1954.

Marilyn by Milton Greene on January 28th 1955.

Marilyn by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956.

Marilyn during the filming of Some Like It Hot by Richard Miller in October 1958.

Marilyn during the filming of The Misfits by Erich Hartmann in the Autumn of 1960.

Marilyn during the filming of Something’s Got To Give by Lawrence Schiller in May 1962.

Thankfully, I was lucky and never fell down that ridiculous rabbit hole in the first place. I discovered Marilyn whilst reading an article in Vanity Fair magazine almost ten years ago, discussing the then upcoming release of, Fragments: Poems, Intimate Notes, Letters by Marilyn Monroe.

This book is truly one of a kind and is basically a published archive of many of Marilyn’s personal letters, excerpts and anecdotes she had written from 1943 until 1962. Before anyone says it’s disrespectful to publish/share these and it is an invasion of privacy, to an extent I agree. However, as stated a few moment ago, with the amount of disrespectful, outrageous nonsense that has been slurred out over the half a century since Marilyn left us – I think it’s a necessity to see her own words in print. Ironically enough, it’s almost as if Marilyn herself foreshadowed the future of the media, when she said this in an Interview to Georges Belmont for Marie Claire Magazine in April 1960.

“The true things rarely get into circulation, it’s usually the false things.”

Therefore, today I have decided to focus on Marilyn herself, not as a Star, Tragic Icon or a pretty face, but as a human who had a beautiful, sensitive soul. Some of you may already know, but for those who don’t, Marilyn actually wrote numerous poems throughout her years, mostly just for herself. In her rare moments of confidence, she would occasionally show a few to her close friend, Writer Norman Rosten, who said the following in his (must have) book, Marilyn Among Friends.

“She had the instinct and reflexes of the poet, but she lacked the control.”

“Although she gave the appearance of being so confident and self assured, she was in reality incredibly self conscious and her own biggest critic, which is heartbreaking really as she was truly gifted. She was such a perfectionist that she would spend hours preparing herself mentally and physically for her beloved fans, regularly looking in the mirror at her perceived flaws. Marilyn was infamous for her lateness, which is often viewed as diva like behaviour. However, the reality is, it’s rarely noted that her anxiety was so severe, she would break out in rashes and even vomit, before going on set.

In her final interview with LIFE Magazine, published one day before her death, she even said to Journalist Richard Meryman,

“I’m one of the world’s most self conscious people. I really have to struggle.”

I remember the first time I looked through Fragments, of course it was very upsetting to see her pain written down and think about her suffering, However, I strongly noticed this recurring theme of hope, despite some incredibly sad notes, there was always some sparkle of inner strength and I just thought that should be said. Often we ourselves don’t see are bravery and bouts of determination in our inner self, but others do and I for one am glad I can see in Marilyn what she could not.

I love you with all of my heart Marilyn, from the moment you came into my life, a decade ago in October 2010. Wherever you may be, I hope you know how much love, joy and happiness you have brought and continue to bring to many people’s lives each day. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem.

Life – I am of both of your directions Somehow remaining hanging downward the most but strong as a cobweb in the wind – I exist more with the cold glistening frost. But my beaded rays have the colors I’ve seen in a painting – ah life they have cheated you ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem shared with Norman Rosten and published in his book, Marilyn: An Untold Story.

To the Weeping Willow

I stood beneath your limbs and you flowered and finally clung to me and when the wind struck with.. the earth and sand – you clung to me. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

Stones on the walk every color there is I stare down at you like a horizon – the space / the air is between us beckoning and I am many stories up my feet frightened as I grasp towards you ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

Only parts of us will ever touch parts of others – one’s own truth is just that really – one’s own truth. We can only share the part that is within another’s knowing acceptable so one is for most part alone. As it is meant to be in evidently in nature – at best perhaps it could make our understanding seek another’s loneliness out. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

for life It is rather a determination not to be overwhelmed.

for work The truth can only be recalled, never invented ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Record” Black Notebook – Written in throughout 1951.

What I do believe in What is truth I believe in myself even my most delicate intangible feelings in the end everything is intangible my most precious liquid must never spill don’t spill your precious liquid life force they are all my feelings no matter what ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Record” Black Notebook – Written in throughout 1951. Fear of giving me the lines new maybe won’t be able to learn them maybe I’ll make mistakes people will either think I’m no good or laugh or belittle me or think I can’t act. Women looked stern and critical – unfriendly and cold in general afraid director won’t think I’m any good. remembering when I couldn’t do a god damn thing. then trying to build myself up with the fact that I have done things right that were even good and have had moments that were excellent but the bad is heavier to carry around and feel have no confidence depressed mad ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

I do know ways people act unconventionally – mainly myself – do not be afraid of my sensitivity or to use it – for I can & will channel it + crazy thoughts too I want to do my scene or exercises (idiotic as they may seem) as sincerely as I can knowing and showing how I know it is also – no matter – what they might think – or judge from it ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

I can and will help myself and work on things analytically no matter how painful – if I forget things (the unconscious wants to forget – I will only try to remember) Discipline – Concentration

my body is my body every part of it. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

feel what I feel within myself – that is trying to become aware of it also what I feel in others not being ashamed of my feeling, thoughts – or ideas

realize the thing that they are – ______________________________________________________________________________

• Waldorf Astoria Stationery – Written in throughout 1955.

Sad, sweet trees – I wish for you – rest but you must be wakeful ______________________________________________________________________________

• Waldorf Astoria Stationery – Written in throughout 1955.

Not a scared lonely little girl anymore

Remember you can sit on top of the world (it doesn’t feel like it.) You can have any help you want personally – or in your work – or anything else you want – There are technical ways to go about it or problems – figure out if anything tec. can be done about it because there are people to help you – gladly – you more than most they want to help Remember there is nothing you lack – nothing to be self conscious about yourself – you have everything but the discipline and technique which you are learning & seeking on your own – after all nothing was or is being given to you – you have had none of this work thrown your way you sought it – it didn’t seek you

Too much talent Too much ability and and much too much sensitivity to invert yourself out of fear – not come to class – or to do things like being afraid to come to class or to get up. ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Italian Agenda” Notebook – Written throughout 1955 or 1956.

and the more I think of it the more I realize there are no answers life is to be lived

and since it is comparatively so short – (maybe too short – maybe too long – the only thing I know for sure, it isn’t easy

now that I want to live and I feel suddenly not old not concerned about previous thing except to protect myself – my life – and to desperately (pray) tell the universe I trust it ______________________________________________________________________________

• Parkside House Stationery – Written during her stay in England between July 14th – November 20th 1956.

I guess I have always been deeply terrified to really be someone’s wife since I know from life one cannot love another, ever, really. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Roxbury Notes – Written throughout 1957 or 1958.

In every spring the green is too sharp – though the delicacy in their form is sweet and uncertain – it puts up a good struggle in the wind trembling all the while. Those leaves will relax, expand in the sun and each raindrop they will resist even when they’re battered and ripped. I think I am very lonely – my mind jumps. I see myself in the mirror now, brow furrowed – if I lean close I’ll see – what I don’t want to know – tension, sadness, disappointment, my eyes dulled, cheeks flushed with capillaries that look like rivers on maps – hair lying like snakes. The mouth makes me the saddest next to my dead eyes. There is a dark line between the lips in the outline of several waves in a turbulent storm – it says don’t kiss me, don’t fool me I’m a dancer who cannot dance. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Roxbury Notes – Written throughout 1957 or 1958.

re – relationships

Everyone’s childhood plays itself out No wonder no one knows the other or can completely understand. By this I don’t know if I’, just giving up with this conclusion or resigning myself – or maybe for the first time connecting with reality –

how do we know the pain of another’s earlier years let alone all that he drags with him since along the way at best a lot of lee-way is needed for the other – yet how much is unhealthy for one to bear.

I think to love bravely is the best and accept – as much as one can bear. ______________________________________________________________________________

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58 Years Without Marilyn. It's hard to believe 58 years to the day, on the night of August 4th, the world's most famous Star would leave us all.

#1940s #1950s #1960s #angel #blonde bombshell #classic hollywood #icon #legend #marilyn monroe #norma jeane #norma jeane baker #old hollywood #retro

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my-never-ending-nightmare · 3 years

Text

05/17/2021

Male friendships are so weird. You can be close friends with a guy for most of your life without ever letting each other know that you actually care about each other, except for in the most subtle of ways. I was chilling with somebody I’ve known since I was 13 or 14 over the weekend, somebody who I’ve been through some of the craziest of things with, most if not all of which involved alcohol. We were reminiscing about the old days when we were just 18 year old kids and more wild and reckless than ever, and somehow we started talking about the time I told another friend of ours to punch me as hard as he could, challenging him to try to knock me off my feet. He accepted the challenge and lost, but goddamnit that was probably the hardest I’ve ever been hit in my life. It really fucked my jaw up and put me in hospital the next day once the alcohol had worn off and the pain became overwhelming. This friend that I was talking to had been there and witnessed it, but his memory of it wasn’t too clear. So I showed him the video of it that’s still up on our other friends YouTube channel – and holy fuck did he ever wince when he saw that punch. More than even I do and I’m the one who actually felt it lol. It was fucking brutal, he said, and if he saw somebody hit me like that today he’d hit them even harder. He seemed genuinely angry that I had been punched that hard. And something about him saying that really touched my heart lol. That’s probably the closest any friend of mine has ever come to telling me that they care about me and have my back.

I don’t know what to call it – toxic masculinity, perhaps – but amongst all the friends I’ve ever had emotions are never spoken about or even acknowledged.

Which got me thinking about how many of us began to struggle with serious alcoholism and depression. It gets so fucking lonely when all you do is hide your true self from everyone around you. Some of us suffered more than others because of it, and some took much longer than others to snap out of it and embrace who they are rather than who they want others to see them as. This friend I was talking to, he’s still drinking practically daily but he’s nowhere near as wild and unpredictable as he used to be. He’s actually got his shit together now, despite the drinking. Good job, new car, girlfriend, etc. He’s more responsible than he’s ever been now, and he went through hell to get there.

I can remember one time when we were all about 20 years old and I had gone over to his place. Around this time his drinking was at its absolute worst – he’d get absolutely annihilated, black out and be crazy erratic. He was clearly suffering, we all knew it. But like I said, none of us ever tried to talk to him about it because y’know… feelings are “gay.”

I was sitting in his room that day, probably drinking, and at some point leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Written there in huge letters with permanent marker were the words “I AM NOT HAPPY!”

I asked him what the hell that was about and he kinda laughed about it and said that he has no idea, he got black out drunk the night before and woke up with that written on his ceiling. A literal cry for help. And all we did was shrug and laugh it off. But that’s always stuck with me, because it’s one of the darkest things I’ve ever seen. And, honestly, I felt pretty alarmed about it even at the time. I didn’t know how to help him, so I didn’t even try. But what if that had been one of the last times I ever saw him? What if things were so serious that suicide was a real possibility? How would I have lived with myself knowing that I saw that and did absolutely nothing about it?

Sometimes I really wish I had spent more time among girls growing up lol. Maybe then I wouldn’t have the emotional intelligence of a wet sponge. Perhaps then I wouldn’t feel so alone with my own thoughts all the time. And if my relationships with men were unhealthy, just wait till you hear about my relationships with women lol.

Like, I’ve wanted emotional intimacy rather than just physical intimacy with somebody for as long as I remember, but I only ever achieved the latter because I could never find anyone I felt I could trust enough to open myself up to. Once I finally found the girl it felt like I had been searching for my whole life I wasn’t able to achieve that level of intimacy because I just wasn’t capable of it given how immature and inexperienced I was. I sure was good at hiding how I actually felt behind stupid jokes and insensitive comments tho lol

Oh well, lesson learnt I guess. But it certainly came at one hell of a price.

#blog #journal

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shemakesmusic-uk · 3 years

Photo

youtube

Blending left field jazz elements with club tropes to forge something truly new, Emma-Jean Thackray's work is never less than riveting. New album Yellow is out on July 2, with the composer commenting: “It’s a record about togetherness, the oneness of all things in the universe, showing love and kindness, human connection. I approached the record by trying to simulate a life-changing psychedelic experience, an hour where we see behind the curtain to a hidden dimension, where the physical realm melts away and we finally see that we are all one.” Set to be released via her own Movementt imprint, the album is led by gorgeous new single 'Say Something' - opening with glimmers of Rhodes piano, it leans on that hi-hat shuffle before Emma-Jean Thackray uses her voice to elevate the song. A plea towards communication, it's a powerful introduction. [via Clash]

youtube

Philadelphia punk rockers Mannequin Pussy have released the title track to Perfect, their upcoming EP due out May 21. The new song comes with a flashy music video that’s inspired by the kitschy glamor of Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion, too. Musically, 'Perfect' is a distorted blaze of rock guitars that sees vocalist-guitarist Missy eviscerating the idea that people must manicure their own social media presence. “Last year, I found myself spending more time on my phone than I ever had in my life… I realized that through years of social media training, many of us have grown this deep desire to manicure our lives to look as perfect, as aspirational as possible,” explained Missy in a statement. “We want to put ourselves out there, share our lives, our stories, our day to day — and these images and videos all shout the same thing: ‘Please look at me, please tell me I’m so perfect.’ It’s simultaneously a declaration of our confidence but edged with the desperation that seeks validation from others.” In the accompanying music video, directed by Missy, viewers get to watch as a 10-year reunion at Sugarbush High slowly unravels. It opens on three former classmates, all three of whom are pregnant, dishing some hushed gossip and talking about how they want to get plastic surgery that’s so good they mistake one another for strangers. Cue two students-turned-drag queens making a grand entrance and strutting their stuff on the dance floor (mirroring the 1997 comedy classic) while old classmates gasp, shield their eyes, and panic. Meanwhile, Mannequin Pussy can be seen tearing up the band stage while they perform live. [via Consequence]

youtube

Following the release of her debut EP I Can’t Cry For You in December, Manchester’s Phoebe Green is back with new bop ‘IDK’. “[It] explores a complete detachment from reality, observing things from a place of total apathy and feeling as though I’m witnessing my life as a bystander with little to no connection to it,” Phoebe explains. “It’s a horrible state to be in, I think it happens when I get overwhelmed.” [via DIY]

youtube

Fast-rising French-Korean artist spill tab is unveiling her latest mesmerising single ‘Anybody Else’. Accompanied by a new vid directed by friend and collaborator Jade Sadler, spill tab says, “This song is cheesy as fuck but I love it, it’s pretty straight forward, a little shameless - the lyrics are sort of a way of expressing my love without openly saying I love you. Jade Sadler (the video director) and I just wanted to have a shit ton of fun on this one. We thought about something with narrative or plot and it was just getting to be too corny. I wanted something lighthearted and playful, so we decided we would have all of our homies in this video paired with different colors and angles and set designs. I’m so excited with the way it turned out.” [via DIY]

youtube

Willow Kayne has shared her debut single 'Two Seater'. The Gen Z talent links together huge opposing forces, creating her own potent brand of rebel-pop. New single 'Two Seater' finds Willow blazing a trail, upending convention through melding together differing sounds. The lush, 90s inspired soundscape leans on nostalgic impulses, but her punk-like disregard for convention is sheer pop futurism. Produced by DANIO, it finds Willow Kayne coming into her own completely off the bat. [via Clash]

youtube

BENEE has shared a video for her single ‘Happen To Me’. It’s the latest cut from her debut album, Hey u x, which arrived last November featuring guest spots from the likes of Grimes, Lily Allen and Flo Milli. “This song is super important to me,” she says. “It’s the opening track [on the album]. It’s the first song where I’ve written about anxiety. The lyrics are pretty dark. Life is pretty crazy right now, and I think it’s important to talk about this kind of stuff.” Of the video, she adds: “Stoked to be sharing this music video with everyone! I filmed it with a bunch of mates, and it was the coolest set! Hope you love it as much as I do.” [via Dork]

youtube

Los Angeles-based art-pop artist Kit Major has shared the music video for 'When the Drugs Don't Work,' a more introspective stab at her signature dark, electropop sound. Blending driving dance beats and thumping hyperpop-influenced synths, Kit Major creates an intoxicating elixir of soundbites and grit. Taking inspiration from Charli XCX, Billie Eilish, and Charlotte Lawrence, 'When the Drugs Don't Work' dives into the overwhelming vulnerability and panic of failing to curb a depressive episode with medication. With this release, Kit Major furthers her efforts to be open and make light of her mental health struggles. On the video, Kit Major shares, "'When The Drugs Don't Work' was filmed in one weekend, directed by my best friend in my departed grandparents' now empty house. We filmed this in quarantine without a crew and worked to create a dark & twisted fairytale together. When I first started thinking about the video, I knew I wanted a more lighthearted take to balance the darker theme of my mental health in the song. I wrote the lyric, “little princess hurt locked away inside her palace,” because sometimes when I'm isolated in my room I visualize myself as a Disney princess running inside her castle, instead of being in my bed, surrounded by empty water bottles. This song was written from a mix of different perspectives including my own, my persona, and outside voices. I think we accomplished the storytelling behind WTDDW by portraying the importance of imagination and trusting yourself." Alongside, director Noël Dombroski adds, "WDDW is a raw, introspective song from Kit that shines a light on parts of herself that at times may be hard to face. We were lucky enough to be able to shoot at Kit's late grandparents' house, an emotionally significant location that acts in the video as the inside of Kit's head. We wanted to challenge viewers to look at every facet of themselves and realize that each part is valuable, even if you may not like it. A conversation we had a lot was about the color scene, where the image of Kit is being pulled apart by color channels. You may hate one of those colors, but you still need it to create that full image. The same can sometimes be said about depression - it may be a layer of yourself that you don't care for, but without that experience, I don't know that WDDW could exist." The music video dives into the psychological turmoil at the heart of the track with a hyperstylized touch. Spotlights wander through a funhouse version of Kit's childhood home, hunting down our protagonist, who we find trapped behind bars, downing teardrops from teacups and champagne from the bottle. Simultaneously unnerving and stimulating in a Paranormal Activity-meets Alice in Wonderland aestheticism, the music video for 'When the Drugs Don't Work' dives into the floating images of a mental breakdown with a fever dream lucidity.

youtube

Number One Popstar continues to prove herself as a powerhouse, shaking up the music world with her fresh, unapologetic beats. This week, she shares another one, her new single 'Forever 21.' And no, it’s not about clothes. 'Forever 21' begins with a kicking beat, but subdued with reflective, twinkly keys. It’s a perfect mix of existential dread and dance. Carrying this vibe throughout, it breaks in between with a beaming guitar-driven bridge. Lyrically, the track makes us question why brands and media make it seem like our twenties are our prime, when we still have our whole lives ahead of us? Despite the effervescent pop sound, Hollowell got vulnerable about her past and its effect on the song, saying, "I initially started writing 'Forever 21' when I found myself looking back on my early 20’s, wanting to recapture the hopeful and dumb feelings of my youth. But the longer I spent on the song, the more it became a reflection of the loss I faced when my parents passed away in my early 20s. I started looking at my own fear of death, of dying like them. I really didn’t know where my life was headed back then. […] I eventually turned that painful experience into a motivation to go after everything I wanted in life. To be seriously less serious, recognizing everything is fleeting.” Like her other music videos, Hollowell likes to flip popular culture and societal expetations on their head. While also bringing the fear of aging to life, she also reminds audiences to stay present instead of holding on to youth. [via Earmilk]

youtube

Following in the footsteps of Prince and Lizzo, Dizzy Fae is set to become the Twin Cities’ next pop sensation. She just dropped her brand new track, 'BODY MOVE', and much like the name suggests, it will make you want to move. Self-described as alternative R&B, Fae takes a few notes from contemporary hyperpop artists like Charli XCX and Doja Cat with an industrial iciness that plays off the technicolor pop melodies. It’s an influence you can hear on 'BODY MOVE', produced by New York’s Stelios (Young Thug, SZA). The track builds itself off a snappy, rubber band bass line indebted to pop’s recent disco revival. “It’d be so cruel if I didn’t let my body move,” Fea’s voice loops through a robotic filter. A buzzing drum machines barrels in at the chorus, transforming the lightly retro groove to a futuristic club track more akin to the production styles of 100 gecs. But for all the modern influences, the Ying Yang Twins reference shows she’s a student of all types of music. [via Consequence]

youtube

Technically, 'Your Power' is not the lead single from Billie Eilish’s newly announced album Happier Than Ever. The album includes two songs she released last year: the jazzy, well received ballad 'my future' and the contemptuous multi-format radio hit 'Therefore I Am.' However, 'Your Power' is the first song Eilish has released since announcing the new album, debuting her new look, and officially commencing her LP2 era, so there’s definitely a deep sense of anticipations around the song. Eilish teased 'Your Power' this week with a brief sound snippet featuring acoustic guitar and the words “Try not to use your power” sung to a Feist-y melody. Now the full song and its Eilish-directed music video have arrived. The completed record remains as soft, pretty, and devastatingly sad as the preview audio. In the clip, a slow pan across a mountainside in the Simi Valley reveals Eilish in the clutches of a gigantic snake. (A press release specifies that it’s an 80-pound anaconda.) [via Stereogum]

#videos of the week #emma-jean thackray #mannequin pussy #phoebe green #spill tab #willow kayne #benee #kit major #number one popstar #dizzy fae #billie eilish

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tbctbloggers · 3 years

Text

ICT Thoughts

The latest session we’ve had for ICT was a super interesting one. Not just in the sense I actually paid attention but also in that almost everything we covered seemed so familiar to me.

The concepts that we looked at were things I’d never actually heard of before, But when their details were explained I was shocked to discover these were essentially paraphrased versions of principles I’d learned in high school and during my gap year as methods for success.

The 5 Principles of Effectual Logic especially caught my attention. Through my time playing video games at a professional level I quickly learned the “Lemonade” principle as being active, vigilant and adaptable were the key improvements I needed to make to reach the top level.

I’m essentially just gonna write a huge catch-up on some points in my life that are pretty heavily linked with the principles of effectual logic just to nail these points in my head. If anyone reads this monster I hope you get something out of it.

In my last couple years of high school I went through the IB DP, which is one of the toughest school systems in the world. They just throw too much at you for a person who is highly unorganized like me to deal with. As a result I inevitably got overwhelmed and started to sink into a pretty heavy depression. While that sucked and I didn’t get much done I wasn’t just sliding right down the spiral of depression going nowhere. While feeling like crap all the time I was thinking of methods to not feel overwhelmed and push myself to start getting things done. Eventually after a couple months of being an unproductive sap something clicked and I’d essentially taken on the “Pilot in the Plane” principle of focusing on what’s under my control and taking actions based on that. As a result I not only clawed my way out of my depression I also went on to pass the IB with a result higher than the predictions made the year prior during my slump.

During the essentially forced gap year between my graduation in May and joining this course a couple months ago I figured I’d spend most of my time learning methods and approaches to success as an adult. I figured that while high school got me a few good skills that I’ll be able to take advantage of (like writing this stuff) I still had a huge amount I’d yet to learn that would be vital for my growth and success as an adult. I began by branching off things I’ve already enjoyed such as Psychology and video games. Though as useful as many of the things I’d learned from these areas have been I needed to go somewhere completely unexplored to learn some new lessons and just decided look at a comedy group I’d never really learned much about before.

I’m beating around the bush here but I purchased a subscription to the gumroad (essentially a patreon) of Sam Hyde. An American Comedian and co-founder of the comedy group Million Dollar Extreme. Sam’s a very controversial figure to say the least and I wouldn’t recommend finding out about him in any other way than his incredible anti-futurist mockery TEDx Talk where he managed to con his way into a legitimate TEDx Talk event and spouted complete nonsense and buzzwords for 19 minutes while holding in laughter. Sam Hyde and MDE went on to produce a TV show on Adult Swim which ran for 1 incredibly successful season before being “cancelled” over stupid political allegations.

During this time and for a very long while after Sam was producing videos in a series on his youtube channel called “HydeWars” where he told stories and shared lessons he’d learned over the years that he thought were worth hearing. I subscribed to the gumroad after seeing edited clips from these episodes on youtube where the gumroad boasted having unedited full hour long videos of the “wisdom” he was sharing.

During my MIQ here in NZ I went through all of the hydewars episodes and essentially studied them to pick out the nuggets of info that I could apply to myself and my approach to things. One of the most important messages that he gave was EXACTLY the Crazy-Quit Principle of effectual logic. Find and connect with people who you KNOW can be trusted, work hard and feel nice to be around.

I’ve been putting that principle to work quite a bit so far making a very clear partnership with Jordan. He’s someone who’s very clearly flawed, but makes up for it by being hard working, reliable and fun to be around. Another lesson I learned from Sam’s videos is that if you find someone who fills a gap that you suck at and work with them, you should fill a gap that they refuse to. I’ve been doing that by focusing on the communication side of things with Jordan, along with figuring out logistics, playing the devils advocate and more general management work where necessary. So far it’s been working out pretty well and I hope that as we develop further the balance of work begins to even out more as my value in the group defines itself a little clearer than it is now.

The main problem I see I’ve been running into is that while I’m very good at using the tools I’m familiar with I tend to disregard them if I’m told to set a goal of work that needs to be done. When I’m given a problem and some tools I become extremely crafty and resourceful, but when I’m given a problem AND told to come up with a solution I disregard the “Bird in Hand” principle and start going for pure abductive thinking which results in poorly executed creative work.

One positive side of this is that Jordan from my observation adopts the “Bird in Hand” principle and Max my other Studio group member is very concerned with the “Affordable Loss” principle, so with our powers combined we do a pretty damn good job at solving problems and working creatively. Although we’re still bound to crumble to pieces during our work we’re very adept at putting things back together, and not necessarily the way they were before, but instead a way that works better for what we want to do.

I apologize Ricardo for not including any questions, but I’m still pretty happy with how this turned out. Also if dates save on posts just ignore this one, just a bit of the old late night jolt of inspiration.

#ctec502 #ctec501

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years

Text

notable moments from The Beantown Bailout Job

leverage 2.01

(see link for a video on this episode that captured literally all of my reactions and will undoubtedly capture yours too)

Manager: You found that stolen Monet in Florence, saved your company a $25 million payout. That identity-theft case, you saved $15 million.

nate sees .00005 seconds of normal life and yeets the hell out

- - - - -

(The lobby is teaming with people when Nate walks in. A sign shows that Sophie is starring in The Sound of Music. He sees Parker at the ticket counter)

Parker: Picking up for one.

Ticket Agent: Last name?

Parker: Parker.

Ticket Agent: First name?

Parker: No. Just one name.

Ticket Agent: Great. I hope you enjoy it.

(Parker turns to see Nate across the room and smiles)

Hardison: Parker?

(Parker looks to her right to see Hardison. The sound of Eliot’s laughter from across the lobby draws Hardison’s attention)

Eliot (to women): All right. After the show, then. I'll see you.

(Eliot turns and sees the others. The all meet in the center of the lobby)

Nate: Eliot.

Parker: Nate.

Hardison: Parker.

Eliot: Hardison.

Eliot: So, how have you...

Nate: Good. Good. Great. You?

Eliot: Fantastic. Six months of traveling. Did a couple of big jobs.

Hardison: eah. Me, too. Great off time. Well, I bought an oxygen tank. Cool, nice.

Parker: Yeah, super. I've been really super, too.

Nate: Yeah, she didn't tell me that you guys would..

this is that dinner scene from shrek 2 right???

also, parker’s lil smile when she sees nate, hardison’s big smile when he sees parker + hardison says parker and eliot says hardison = ot3 acknowledging each other

- - - - -

Hardison: I didn't know you could sing.

Sophie: You know. Not as well as I act, but, yeah.

Hardison: Oh

- - - - -

Sophie: Uhhgh…

Hardison: Yeah, you know, I'm sure the reviews will be...

(Sophie hands Hardison her phone)

Hardison: …on the news website already.

Parker (grabs the phone): Really? Wow. "Never before has a production of 'The Sound Of Music' made me root for the Nazis. (Hardison gestures something like ‘WHY’ to Parker and she gestures something like ‘JDJSJSJ SORRY’ back)

POOR SOPHIE LMFAO

- - - - -

Sophie: No. No, no, no. Stop it. There is nothing you can say that's gonna make me feel better.

Parker: I know what could make you feel better. We should steal something.

Nate: No, no.

Sophie: Yes! We could do it together.

Eliot: I like this. Get right back up on the bike.

Parker: Bike of crime.

Nate: Didn't you earlier tell me how great your new lives were?

Parker: Yeah, well, I stole the Hope Diamond.

Nate: What?

Parker: (Everyone looks surprised. Eliot looks like he is going to say something.) And then I put it back. Yeah, 'cause I was bored. Didn't care.

Hardison: I spent three days hacking the white house e-mail. No buzz.

Nate: See?

Hardison: But we are doing some pretty hinky stuff in Pakistan. Hinky.

Sophie: Look, I'm miserable. They're miserable. (to Eliot) Okay, what have you been doing the last six months?

Eliot: I was in Pakistan. (Parker grins)

Hardison: You see what you did? You took the world's best criminals, hitter, hacker, grifter, thief, you took us, and you broke us.

Nate: No, no. I-I, what I did, I taught you how to help people. That's all.

Parker: Exactly.

Sophie: Yeah.

Eliot: This is the problem, with being the good guy. It gets under your skin.

Sophie: Look, Nate. You have to have some poor, little lost soul somewhere who needs a little extra-legal aid.

Nate: Look, we all agreed that we'd just move on.

Sophie: Yeah, but we're... We're thieves.

Nate: Not me. Look, it was great. It was fun. It was wonderful while it lasted, but I was drunk most of the time, to be honest with you. And I… A little crazy.

Eliot: Yeah, but you were good.

Parker: You were the best.

Hardison: We were the best.

Parker: Yeah.

Nate: Listen, really, I owe all of you. And I'm very proud of what we did. I-I really am. But I got my life back, and I intend to keep it that way. And I am not a thief. (stands up) It was great to see all of you. Good night. (leaves)

BIKE OF CRIME + also bruh let them have their found family, nate

- - - - -

(Nate enters the dim room and looks around. Behind him, the Thug opens the door and comes at him with a knife. Nate sees the reflection in a pot lid and turns to block the blow. Sophie comes in behind the Thug)

Sophie: Oi! Does your mother sew? (headbutts Thug) Stitch that.

(Thug runs out of the condo. Nate runs out after him, but Thug gets away. As he reenters the condo, Sophie hits him in the head with a cookie sheet and Nate falls to the floor)

Sophie: Ah! Bugger

she tried, your honor + her tough talk and then AH BUGGER

- - - - -

(the next morning, Nate wakes up on the couch to the sound of Parker eating. Parker is wearing a Nun’s habit, smiles and moves away. Sophie comes downstairs wearing Nate’s shirt)

Nate: That's my shirt.

Sophie: Yeah. I stayed the night to make sure you were okay. You what? But don't worry. I didn't look under your bed. I know that's where guys keep weird, kinky stuff.

Nate: There's nothing under my bed.

Parker (opens cupboard): This is all coffee.

Nate: Get out of there! (sees Hardison and Eliot at the table) What are you guys doing? (gets up) Come on, get out of here. Get all this stuff out of here. You're planning something. I know it. Come on. Get out of my house.

...

Hardison: Look, nobody else is gonna help that guy and his little girl. Okay, that's what we do. We help people. By the way, I compared Sophie's description of your attacker to the accident footage from the security camera.

(Hardison pushes a few buttons on the laptop and zooms in on the Thug’s face to begin a facial recognition search through various cameras in the area)

Hardison: Do you realize, on average, people are caught on security cameras 13 times a day? ATM cameras, traffic cameras. It's crazy, man, but we can track him. We can. Well, I lost him in this.

Eliot: Yeah, well, I found this empty briefcase belonging to a Matt Kerrigan at that intersection.

...

Eliot: Yeah, well, the problem is, these two cats went down to the safety deposit boxes.

Parker: Which is the only room in every bank, with absolutely no cameras.

Hardison: Which means we up, baby. (puts on a priest’s collar) They tried to kill Kerrigan for what was in the briefcase. We're gonna steal it back.

Eliot (laughs): She was dressed that way 'cause she's doing a con.

Nate: What, you thought she was dressed like a nun for no reason?

Eliot: It's Parker.

...

(Nate walks away)

Sophie (to Eliot): So, you going?

Eliot: I'm not going anywhere. The man has 700 sports channels.

Sophie: You want to see what he's got under his bed?

Eliot: N-no, I do not.

Sophie: Icky

- - - - -

(Parker opens her Bible to reveal a lock duplication kit with a depression in the plastic of the master key)

[Flashback]

(Parker takes the key from the Bank Manager’s pocket as Hardison talks, pressing the key into the form before replacing it into the Bank Manager’s pocket)

Hardison: And the children... The children thank you. They will send you a card just as soon as we buy them tiny pencils. And teach them how to spell. It's a two-step process, you see.

[Bank Vault]

Parker: Superglue and a heat-activated polymer to set it. Seven seconds, instant plastic key. (hands Hardison the Bible) Shake it.

Hardison: What?

Parker: Shake the bible.

Hardison: This is even more wrong.

(Hardison: takes the Bible and begins shaking it while Parker picks box 5076)

they’re so competent ugh

- - - - -

Hardison: I did look for you. For six months.

HE LOOKED FOR HER FOR SIX MONTHS

- - - - -

Parker: I think people are like locks. Really complicated and frustrating. But you can't force them. You have to take time and be fiddly.

Hardison: Fiddly?

Parker: You learn to be patient, and just wait until you hear the...

(the lock opens and the door swings wide)

- - - - -

(Hardison is sitting on the couch going through some paperwork and working on a laptop. Several boards have been set up with information about the case)

Nate: Now, this is not "gone." This is "more."

Hardison: Yeah, I, uh, I scanned the documents in Leary's box, but I wanted to print out a few pages.

Nate: I asked—I asked Eliot to get rid of this stuff. Now there's more stuff.

Hardison: Did you? Oh, we-we crossed, but didn't see each other. He didn't tell me.

Nate: Oh, that's how you're gonna play this?

Hardison: Oh, man. Look... (stands up and sniffs)

Nate: What?

Hardison: Is that... What is that aroma? That's that apple shampoo that's open.

Nate: You've been up in my shower, rummaging around?

Hardison: Man's in a strange bathroom, he's got a lot of time to kill... Nate, Nate, Nat-

I CANNOT

- - - - -

Nate: Grew up in the same neighborhood. The O'Hares are mobbed up. These are all mob businesses you're talking about here.

Hardison: Mob?

Nate: Where's Eliot?

Hardison: Oops.

Nate: What?

[Warehouse]

(Eliot is going through boxes when his phone rings. He answers)

Eliot: Yeah, Hardison. This is the third place I checked. It's all the same. What do you mean mob?

Thug: Hey!

(three men approach, one of them the Thug, who has his nose bandaged and is carrying a baseball bat)

Eliot: Oh, that mob. (hangs up)

hardison’s “whoops” followed by I HAVE TO WARN MY BOYFRIEND + in this episode we have eliot using a baseball bat as a weapon which is yet another piece in the continuation of eliot using things as weapons that are not supposed to be used as weapons

+ he apologizes to the guy that just had a nose job for beating him up and punching him in the nose he’s baby

- - - - -

(Nate opens the refrigerator to find it full of Hardison’s orange soda)

Nate: Seriously?

(Nate turns to see the island covered in food and dishes)

Nate: You know, guys, there is a dishwasher here.

Eliot: You're out of ice.

he literally can’t get rid of them + also I WONDER whose orange soda that is

- - - - -

parker robot dancing in the 80s jacket and looking DIRECTLY at eliot lmfao

- - - - -

Nate: What? Sophie, how do you catch mob guys?

Sophie: Ah, two glasses of Chianti and a story about my grandma in Sicily

- - - - -

Nate: Well, yeah. I mean, if you have a body in the trunk of your car, you're gonna drive under the speed limit, aren't you?

Parker: You know, when you're sober, your metaphors get creepier

- - - - -

eliot and parker sitting next to each other? cute

- - - - -

Hardison: Mr. Leary, I'm Detective Costello, with the Massachusetts State Police. This is Detective Costigan. I believe you met with our chief, Lieutenant Bonanno

more aliases to keep track of

- - - - -

Parker: We're investigating your colleague Matt Kerrigan's (air quotes) "car accident."

Leary: So you don't think it was an accident?

Hardison: Of course not. She did the finger thing. You got that. Everybody gets that.

Parker: Did I do it right?

Hardison: No. No. This guy just... (pulls picture from his pocket)

~ a few moments later ~

Parker: I did it right, didn't I?

Hardison: It was perfect.

Parker: I knew I did it right.

Hardison: It was beautiful execution. Absolutely.

Parker: Just like you taught me. I did it. (she smiles brightly)

Hardison: Yeah. Yeah, you did it. I like it. Yeah. (gives her a thumbs up)

SHES LEARNING IM SO PROUD OF HER

- - - - -

Eliot: Hey, this detonator - If I'm around the corner, is it still gonna be in range?

Hardison: Should be. I haven't worked out all the kinks yet. Sometimes the things just go off.

Eliot: Whoa, whoa, wait. Hey. I thought you said this thing was safe.

Hardison: Mostly. Mostly safe. I was very specific. Sometimes the frequencies get messed up.

Eliot: What frequencies, man? Huh? I got these things in my pants.

Hardison: Like, you know, a garage-door opener, a car alarm.

(a car alarm chirps then goes off, making Eliot jump. He moves away angrily)

Parker: What are the odds that Eliot's crotch will actually explode?

Eliot: Damn it, Hardison! (stalks off)

chaotic ot3

- - - - -

Sophie (shows passport): Annie Kroy.

O’Hare (grabs passport): Name's familiar.

Sophie: My family does business in North London with Terry Adams, and a couple of other organizations. We handle the money.

Nate (getting up): Yeah, see, what they do is they clean the money.

some people think that annie kroy is sophie’s true identity. I think, if anything, it would be her duchess alias but can you IMAGINE mob child sophie??? also, hi. im jackie and I wholeheartedly believe annie kroy has killed a man.

- - - - -

(Eliot is parked outside of the bank when Leary comes out, looking at files. Eliot hits a remote and the sound of gunfire fills the street as the squibs go off. People scream and Leary dives for cover. Eliot laughs and closes his window.)

chaotic eliot

- - - - -

Leary: And for that, the government hunts them down like dogs. People like me, we took billions from the banks. Billions. And what did the government do when they finally caught us? They wrote us a giant check and begged us to make it all better.

that’s disturbing

- - - - -

(Parker uses a taser on O’Hare and Hardison pulls up a recorder)

I think that was the first time parker tasered someone and we love to see it

- - - - -

Nate: So, how did you do it?

Eliot (gets up): Detonator, (holds up remote, reaches into his shirt and pulls out ketchup wrapper) ketchup.

Nate: Ah, the classics.

Sophie: Oh (hops happily), I love a good death scene

- - - - -

parker in a nun costume smelling money and saying “ahhhh” is certainly a mood

- - - - -

Leary: I was tricked. I was tricked. It wasn't me, you understand?

Bonanno: Somebody tricked you into bringing a briefcase full of evidence of your own crimes straight to the police? Come on, Mr. Leary. Nobody's that smart. Get him out of here

THEY ARE T H A T SMART

- - - - -

Zoe: Thank you. There are wolves in the world. But sometimes they're the good guys, I guess.

I didn’t like that whole metaphor because it felt kinda cliche but whatever, they ARE the good guys

+ bruh why is hardison wearing glasses??? him and eliot will sometimes wear them and honestly I don’t know who actually needs them and for what at this point ???

- - - - -

(Nate enters the condo to find that Hardison has installed five of six large monitors on the wall and is working on the last one)

Nate: Whoa, whoa. What are you doing there?

Hardison: I'm running this cat 5 cable to the--

Nate: Oh, no, no, no, no. You don't understand. No, I don't want to have these monitors in my apartment. No.

(Parker opens the door and walks in carrying a large painting)

Parker: Coming through!

Nate: No, these must go. What? No! Parker, no! Not that paint--I don't ever want to see that painting.

Parker: (shaking the painting as she talks in a funny voice) “Hi, I'm old Nate, and I live here, too."

Nate: You can't just break in here and start hanging--

Hardison: Oh, yeah, yeah. For repairs or renovation, your landlord has full access to your dwelling. It's in the lease.

Nate: What are you doing reading my lease?

Hardison: I bought the building.

Nate: You bought the... You're my landlord?

Hardison: Yeah. (holds his hand out for a fistbump) Yeah.

(Nate looks away, then hears the sound of a chain saw. He turns to see the end of a chain saw come through the wall)

Nate: No, no! No! No!

(Part of the wall falls to reveal Eliot holding the chainsaw and grinning. Nate coughs and both Parker and Hardison put their arms around him)

CHAOTIC OT3 + THEIR TIRED DAD

#leverage #leverage 2.01 #leverage 2x01 #the beantown bailout job #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

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wifeofkimtaehyungofbts · 4 years

Text

Chapter 3

Pairing: Jimin x Y/N

Synopsis: How do you help someone with their emotions if you don’t feel emotions? When your brother’s best friend dies in a tragic car accident and he spirals downwards in depression, you devote yourself to helping him out of his misery. But when his other best friend becomes suicidal following the loss, it isn’t merely about helping them. It’s about saving them.

Word count: 2000+

*****

I leave the office much later than planned. The big clock on the wall opposite to my desk show the time as 11.11pm and I mentally slapped myself for getting carried away with work as I rushed to pack my bags.

I tore down the stairs, almost tumbling while running as fast as my legs would carry me. By the time I exit the building, the navy-blue shirt is shades darker drenched in sweat and annoyingly sticking to my skin. Beads of sweat drip down my back slowly adding to my frustration. Fortunately, as I reach the bus stop, a white bus with blue strips across the sides is already parked and revving its engine signalling it is ready for departure. Just as it begins pulling away, I get onto it and relax against the cold seats of the bus as I make my way back home.

During the short seven-minute walk back home from the bus stop I get off at, I stopped by the fast-food joint just around the corner to my neighbourhood. A big TV hangs on the wall adjacent to the cashier, a good time-passer for customers as they await their order. Standing behind 4 men in line to place my order, I stare at the TV purposelessly. A football documentary was playing loudly, the sound echoing from somewhere across the room. Almost everybody else at the fast-food joint was watching the documentary in tensed silence and awe.

The program suddenly changes to the breaking news. Annoyed sighs break out in the small space and I tune into the news. After staring at my office computer for hours at a stretch my eyes strain and hurt when I blink as I stare at the TV.

Great. So much for wanting to watch a movie during dinner tonight.

The brunette at the news desk seemed quite firm and had an authoritative stance. She has been a host for this channel for as long as I remember. Her first appearance as a news reporter was when I was in eighth grade.

What must it be like to get your dream job?

I have no big complains about my job. I got it with minimum qualifications with no prior work experience because I’ve never been a model student, scoring average at both academics and sports. As a young big dreamer, I wanted to be a news reporter, then a sales woman and even a café owner. Ultimately, I settled with taking up the job at a journalist’s office where I edit and re-write the articles for publishing. The work is stressful, as I need to be culturally sensitive and socially aware of the trends and debates of the current world. But the pay is enough to support myself and help my brother if he needs any extra cash. I’ve never thought about further studies but my brother enrolled me for a psychology program at his university without checking with me. I was furious when I found out, but he had already paid with his own money and he kept insisting I was capable of understanding the minds of people. I had laughed, finding it beyond hilarious given the fact that I am incapable of feeling emotion altogether.

It’s in the art of seeing someone as they don’t wish to and in the act of understanding why they hid their true selves and resorted to other ways of existing, my brother had said to me.

I attentively wait for her to deliver the breaking news. Once she starts talking and the photographs of the subject of interest appear on the big screen in splendid colour, all air leaves my lungs.

A car accident.

Three university students.

The inside of my mouth has gone dry, my tongue hardening and feeling prickly. My fingertips feel eerily cold with sweat. Loud gasps followed by murmurs float in the air.

Why are they still talking about it? It happened last week?

My question is answered shortly after the description of the car accident ends. The woman goes on to explain with confirmed evidence that the man who had crashed into the car with the university students was a journalist who was drunk driving. He drove his vehicle on the wrong lane and had collided into the other car in a head on collision. The impact had thrown the car with the university students off the road, crashing into a nearby tree. The collision killed the student seated at the driver’s seat.

Taehyung.

The other two suffered fatal injuries, but were reported to have survived the car crash.

Jungkook and Jimin.

As I stare at the TV screen, warm tears fill my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks. Fortunately, I am the next in line and I rush to make my order. Everything around me sounds like white noise. Up until the cashier hands me my food, I am not aware of anything happening around me. I run out of the fast-food joint, the cold breeze hitting my face drying the tears that were already spilling down my cheeks.

***

I ring the bell three times, but nobody answers the door. Fortunately for me, I already have a set of spare keys in my handbag. I fished them out and open the lock of the door. To my surprise, all the lights in the house have been switched off. Which is understandable at this hour of the night. But Jungkook never turns them off. If I’m not home yet, he always leaves the light in the living room on.

Maybe he’s asleep?

Given the fact that he was home since morning and this being one of his very rare days of work, it’s understandable that he must have slept in early. My brother has always been an active person. He likes sports, working out, trying new activities and so on. On his off days, he tends to catch up on his hobbies and discover new hobbies.

It won’t be a surprise following the latest incident, he may have found it hard to engage in hobbies, therefore slept rather early. I tiptoe along the dark hallway, stretching my hands in front of me to avoid running into any obstacles my brother may have left after playing around. I knock softly on his door and then proceed to knock loudly when I hear no response.

“Jungkook?” I call out his name as I open the door.

There is no response, therefore I reached for the light switch and flipped it on. I gasp loudly as I take in the empty room. It wasn’t just an empty room; it was a messy empty room. It almost looks like Jungkook had been looking for something in his room and had thrown the blankets, the books, his clothes and the pillows all across the floor in the process. As I walked over to his bed, I picked up the fallen pens and books and placed them neatly on his study table. I went on to collect the towel and the blanket off the floor and placed it neatly on top of his bed. His phone was not on his night stand, as he would usually leave it.

So, he’s not home.

He must have left earlier in the afternoon, hence why the lights were not on and he must have not returned home till now. I look at the digital clock ticking away on his night stand.

12:45

Where could he be 45 minutes past midnight?

He does not have many friends to go out drinking with, his only friends being Taehyung and Jimin.

Taehyung was his friend.

I could not think of any place Jungkook maybe right now. I heard Taehung’s parents left town to return to their hometown for a few weeks to get over their son’s death. I do not know Jimin’s where abouts, but I do know that he himself had difficulty getting over Taehyung’s death. Therefore, I don’t think that the two of them went out drinking.

My heart starts racing thinking about where my brother could be. He is very sensitive, especially towards people and things he cares about deeply. Given his current state of mind following the incident and how broken his only other friend is, Jungkook may turn to whatever may ease his pain.

Just thinking about the endless possibilities of what Jungkook could be doing right now and where he could be made my heart ache and head throb. I dial his number on my phone and call him but he does not answer. He continues to not answer the next seven times I call him. Each passing ring worries me some more, until I’m dashing out of the house in a blind hurry.

I tear down the street frantically. I scream his name into the darkness. But I get no response in return. I turn on the flashlight on my phone and turn every corner of our lane back to the main road looking for him. There is no way Jungkook may have got onto the train or the bus and gone off to some specific destination given the fact that he does not have a specific destination in mind. I shiver in the sheer cold of the night and start crying at the side of the street.

I whip my head around so fast when somebody taps me on the shoulder. The old man that lives right next door smiles sadly at me. He hands me a piece of paper with his shaking hands. I take it from him with a confused look on my face. He leaves my side quietly as I continue to open the paper.

It’s a note written in my brother’s handwriting.

Went to Jimin’s. An emergency.

I did not know where Jimin lived, but I knew he had to live close by because my brother would often visit him during his high school and university years. My heart rate started to slow down now that I knew that he was with somebody and not attempting anything crazy. I walked back home, the seven minutes now feeling like seven hours.

***

Having a cold-water bath and curling up in warm sheets in front of the TV watching a movie I’ve been dying to doesn’t help when the loneliness and silence of the empty house engulfs me. I’ve been home alone before, days at a stretch even. But knowing Jungkook is out there in his sensitive state of mind with a friend who is equally mentally in pain does not rest easy with me. I tried calling him again but no one picks up the call.

I sigh as I switch off the TV and turn on the lights. I plop down on the couch and cover myself in the warm sheets again. My eye lids feel heavy but my eyes are curious. They want to see more. My brain needs to work more. My heart wants Jungkook home.

Dragging my feet to the kitchen, my face is greeted with the cold from the refrigerator as I get some fresh mango juice. I gulp down as much as I can before I feel like I might throw up all the liquid filling my stomach. Tucking strands of lose hair behind my ears, I make my way back to the living room.

Minutes pass by and I feel wearier. I shake my head to shake the fog clogging my mind but it doesn’t go away.

Maybe I’ll call him one more time.

The server you are trying to reach is currently switched off or not in a service area.

My heart jumps a beat and then another as I realize I have no way of contacting my brother. I know he is safe, a roof over his head and probably food in his stomach. But I needed to talk to him tonight. Hearing him say he’s fine and he’ll be back whenever would assure me of his mental and physical well-being.

Before I know it, I am rummaging through Jungkook’s books and files and even through his drawers shamelessly searching for Jimin’s number or address. I find it scribbled down in Jungkook’s neat handwriting on the corner of some musical sheets in his second drawer along with several polaroid pictures of what seems like his friends and him.

With shaking hands, I dial the number on my phone.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello?”

***

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#bangtan sonyeondan #bts #BTS jimin #park jimin #bts jimin x reader #bts jimin x y/n #park jimin x reader #park jimin x y/n #jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook #bts taehyung #BTS v #kim taehyung #Steadfast

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