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missamyrisa2 · 7 months

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Curve of the side above the hip you say 🤔 then I guess Miss Amy just revealed the perfect spot to tickle and tease if she was ever interrogated. I wonder how long you would last if soft nails and feathers teased that spot while voices cooed and gave you tickle talk in your ears. I wonder what info you would give up to make the overstimulation stop. Or would Amy love it so much that to really get her, we need to add the dreaded belt taps and tickle jobs 😏

okay okay okay okay okayyyyy~ I don't liiike that you absolutely picked up how I sooo often talk about tickling the very spots and using the very methods which I dread most~~ I would be writing whole novels of information about things that don't exist if someone was interrogating me with bullying tickles on that spot. And the thing isss it's even hotter and worse to be still fully clothed and attacked there because it's that extra layer of taunting, like yeah you still have all your clothes but alllll we have to do is open this spot and you're actually entirely utterly vulnerable ~

and of courseeee mmmh you had to add the taps ~ ooh let's just destroy myself ~

My lips babble out another string of words confessing to the hidden secrets of ice cubes and how world domination is plotted by using traps to throw them down everyone's shirts ~ information, for sure, but not what my interrogators believe I know. They nod knowingly, cooing and fawning over how pink my sensitive skin has grown. The woman at my side hears the "tickle her" command again and complies ~ she looked so innocent and sweet when she came in the room but that visage is of pure malicious teases now, probably years of frustration and desire being worked out on my side. Her manicured nails skitter on that spot, the edge of my bouncing tummy between the ribs and hip but closer to the hip. She alternates with that wicked fluffy purple feather. I'm screaming out, words that aren't words ~ embryonic sentences ~ spill from my giggle gasps~ she glances at the beltline of my denim skirt and spies the little gap between material and skin ~ that silly flower-shaped belt buckle has a weight which pulls my skirt down and my silly big hips just help to create a gap~ I shake my head no and whimper with her immediately smirking and nodding as the feather goes in to probe the gap~ gliding on that impossibly sensitive dip around my hip~

Confessions of creating tickling as a means to beat guys at video games. Information about secret code words to get into Taylor Swift concerts which involve reciting whole episodes of Fullmetal Alchemist and doing the clap on the doors because all her security guards are part of an elite bunch of actual alchemists. They chuckle and delight at my words and the way my body displays so many panic responses. But worst is when they finally acknowledge it, turn towards the reaction that has been building in my outfit. I couldn't even call it a princess part. The hip dip tickles and her knowing smirks have upgraded me to a queen part, and there's no mistaking it. An older woman looking like a massage specialist is already warming up her fingers with some lotion. I quiver and whimper and beg and plead. The words aren't words again as I'm gasping and groaning ~ yet growling in protest as she gingerly lifts my skirt and casually seizes my throbbing part. My interrogator means it as a taunt, and lucks into an even worse sensation than the impossibly soft hands grasping my arousal ~ she taps the flower buckle once and I scream out a giggle. The knowing look between these ladies says it all. They no longer care at all about the assignment. And yet ~ they insist I know so much more ~ as that dark nail starts tapping each petal of the metal to make me buck and thrust ~ and the skilled hand squeezes and pumps away while feathers are inserted all over into my skirt to taunt my ticklish body into absolute madnesss~

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bisexual-horror-fan · 11 months

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"You Should Try It." Blossom James X Henry Williamson X FEM! Reader.

Remember when I said yesterday that would be the last Multi-May fic? I lied! This is my first go at doing a polyam fic for Blossom James and Henry Willaimson from @xmichaelmyers or, the amazing Kate Winborne’s book, Blossom. I love this series, these characters and Kate herself so when I was gearing up to do Multi-May I figured it was time to do this and finally dive into doing a polyam fic with them! Still no official poly ship name for them but that will come in time I am sure. Excited to show this off, an interesting little snapshot of what I think their strange triad would look like. Hope you all dig it and if you haven’t read Blossom yet you really should.

—

Rating. SFW. Length. 1.4K. Blossom James X Henry Williamson X FEM! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Toxic Relationship. Everyone Here Is Slowing Making Each Other Worse. Thoughts About Death. Existentialism. Self Destructive Tendencies. Unhealthy Habits. Implied Heavy Drinking. Just An All Around Time.

—

“Why are you so against it anyway?” The question isn’t surprising, she is a curious kind of person, stubborn too, when she gets something in her head she can never seem to let it go.

You lean your chin on one hand, the other busy stirring your milkshake in a similar fashion to how Blossom James seemingly loves to stir the pot. A sigh leaves you before your response, “Maybe I just don’t see the same appeal in the practice that you do?”

She plucks up a few fries from the plate between you both as she replies, “And I thought you were smart.”

“I disagree on one little thing and suddenly I’m stupid?” You question with a smile and she rolls her eyes before biting back with a casual, “Duh. Obviously.”

A laugh bubbles out around the straw in your mouth before you remove it to respond, trying to humour her, “Perhaps I could get more into it if you explain why you like it?”

“Maaaaybe.” She huffs before saying, “Making me do alllll the work.”

“So sorry.” You throw your hands up in mock-apology and she continues on anyway, “You better be, but I don’t know, how do you even begin to explain something that is so innate? It’s like trying to explain the appeal of a sunset, either you get it or you don’t.”

“I either get it or I don’t, huh? That’s it?” You ask in a tone that is desperately attempting to get her to elaborate further, give more insight, something that can clue you into why she feels the way she does.

“That’s it.” She says with a half shrug, her attention is turned to the window, gazing outside and onto the dark street and the flickering lights from the old sign. It’s getting late, you wonder if he is going to show up, she said he will and you’d come to trust her on this. You trust her more than you should, a gut feeling tells you that you shouldn’t so often and yet you still do.

The pair of them, him and her, act as if they are almost magnetised, something ineffable that you didn’t fully understand yourself, even after being around them, involved with them, seeing how they are together, you still don’t get what continues to pull them together over and over again. You wonder if that is part of why you stick around? It wasn’t the only reason, far from it, there were lots of things that you enjoyed when it came to being around them but trying to decode why they worked certainly kept things interesting for you.

A little lost in your thoughts you wonder if she even knew. Maybe it isn’t even up to her? What if things like this are decided by an outside force, predetermined? A phrase passes over your mind briefly, “doomed by the narrative”, before it leaves again.

The bell ringing above the door pulls you out of your head once more, you look, she doesn’t, again, she just knows she is right and right she is, the newest patron coming into the diner is just the man you’d been discussing, Henry Williamson.

His eyes find yours quickly and it makes him stop, he sighs, back of his hand over his forehead, you watch the minute shifting of expressions over his face, seems he is considering whether or not to come over but upon thinking about it for longer than two seconds he knows it is hopeless and futile. He comes over, he looks tired, he always looks so fucking tired, but even still he forces a smile, which you return, “Hey Henry, how you keeping?”

“Well enough.” He responds and she finally looks up at him, finally giving him acknowledgement, “Henry. Sit.”

“Must I?” He asks and you question him, “You’re here to get something to eat right? Why sit anywhere else?”

After another moment he tells you to, “Move over.” You do so, sliding further into your side of the booth to make adequate room for him, “Nice of you to join us.”

“I dunno why you were so reluctant, don’t you miss us?” Blossom asked with a slight pout, he didn't want to meet her stare, instead he reached out to the plate in the middle of the table and she bats his hand away, “These are for us, get your own.”

Clearly the small hit doesn’t hurt him but he shakes his hand out like it did, tone harsher, somewhere caught between annoyed and exasperated. “In response to your earlier question I find it a lot easier to miss you when you aren’t together.”

“What’s wrong with us together?” You ask, another sip of cool and sickeningly sweet milkshake is swallowed down and he speaks again, “I don’t like the influence you have on each other. It’s like you bring out the worst in each other, I always feel like you’re plotting something, conspiring against me.”

Hilarious because you could say the same about them, hell or about you and him.

You always find yourself slipping into bad habits when he is around, more willing to do things you typically wouldn’t, over indulge in areas you probably shouldn’t, more content to be lazy, to not do much of anything, many a night bled into a morning to a late afternoon in bed or on a couch, rotting away but not alone, as if slow decay became a joint activity, mutual destruction at a snail's pace.

You find yourself so morbid when with him, mind lingering on death, how it’ll catch up with you eventually and when it does you’ll be left to permeate the space with the stench of decomposition, your body left among empty bottles and greasy take out containers in his apartment. It’s summer and stiflingly hot most days, you have the smallest thought of how you would practically melt in the heat, leaking into the frayed and cigarette ash laden carpet.

After those days you would spend with him, that went on too long after doing too little, you always feel kind of sick, empty, scooped out and tired even after doing jack shit all day, and yet you kept coming back for more of those days. It wasn’t healthy, what you had with them wasn’t, you knew that and you were sure it was down right destructive with the behaviour they both drove you to and yet you can’t bring yourself to stop. It is akin to being in an out of control car, not a thing to do but hold on for dear life and wait to get crushed by steel and glass. This thing between you three isn’t going to last forever, it has an expiration date, you cling regardless, intent to see it through to the end, whatever that meant.

He flagged down the waitress and you thought he might get a coffee but instead he gets a milkshake just like you did.

“What, you don’t wanna share mine?” You ask and he rolls his eyes, “I assumed if I can’t have your fries that I didn’t have milkshake privileges.”

Blossom cuts in, “I resent your statement, we are not scheming against you.”

“No? Could have fooled me.” He said easily and she retorted, “You think very highly of yourself, as if we talk about nothing but you when you aren’t around-”

“But we were talking about him before he got here.” You steal a glance at Henry, arms crossed and resting on the table top he leans forward on them, “Really?”

“Really.” You confirm with a nod and Blossom gives you a rather unimpressed look before saying, “Be that as it may, my point stands, just because we were talking about you this time doesn’t mean we do all the time.”

“We talk about you all the time when you aren’t around.” You say as you drag a french fry through the smudges of ketchup still staining the edges of the plate in a very lackadaisical manner.

That seems to surprise her, “What do you talk about when you talk about me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You state and when her mouth falls open and her brows pinch together you laugh, leaning against Henry, “Ha, got you!”

“Asshole!” She accuses and Henry chimed in, “Like you don’t deserve it every now and again.”

“You know you’re right, there is something to be said for this whole teasing and being mean thing.” You muse and she says, “I’m glad you are seeing the appeal but him, do it to him, not to me.”

“I think I made her mad.” You tell Henry as you turn to look at him, his arm slides around you as he says, “She’ll get over it.”

You have a distinct feeling that while that is true, you can't say the same for yourself, you think whenever this does end, you'll never get over either of them.

#Henry Williamson X reader #Blossom James X reader #BHF writing #Multi-May #They are so awful and I fucking love them #You just know they would fight and put you in the middle all the time and use you terribly #AND I WOULD LET THEM

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aelaer · 3 years

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☕ I AM totally cooking you up in this ask on how much you know about the Accords and the way they relate to the US's federal law 👀👀👀

Ahhh, yeah, I was due an ask like this. It took a while to get to, so hopefully you eventually see it, md. Note that all regulations are directly from the Wiki, which drew from the canon of Agents of SHIELD, which had huge plot points around the Accords. Possibly the other old Marvel TV shows too, I’m not sure. And without this expansion, we’d know literally nothing about them, but they fit a lot of what was in the comics so I’m cool as accepting them as canon. Your Mileage May Vary.

This is super long so I put it under a cut.

Any enhanced individuals who agree to sign must register with the United Nations and provide biometric data such as fingerprints and DNA samples.

Nothing breaking current US law. You’re expected to get fingerprinted if you do certain things for the state in certain states in the US. For instance, when I took a tutoring job for underprivileged children in my early college years, I was fingerprinted. I wouldn’t be surprised if higher-security jobs also require something similar.

However, to my knowledge these are all state or nationwide databases, not international. There may be some argument to be made about which officials from which country have access to your fingerprints, as it is with the Accords.

In this fictional universe, DNA samples may be more of an issue due to how meta-humans may have altered DNA and we alllll know that of those 117 countries that signed, at least a dozen of them would try to weaponize it in some capacity. If I were a meta-human in the MCU, this would be my largest concern.

Any enhanced individuals who sign are prohibited from taking action in any country other than their own unless they are first given clearance by either that country's government or by a United Nations subcommittee.

This makes complete sense and should have been established long ago. If it wasn’t already established, then the world governments of the MCU are... well, just as slow and dumb as the real world’s.

Any enhanced individuals who do not sign will not be allowed to take part in any police, military, or espionage activities, or to otherwise participate in any national or international conflict, even in their own country.

The UN does not have the authority to dictate what an individual country does or does not allow their population to do, for better or worse. The atrocities carried out across the world by various world governments against their people is the best evidence of that.

That said, in this case, I don’t think it’s any of their business to dictate this. If France wants meta-humans in their police force regardless as to whether they’ve signed the Accords or not, that’s France’s business. If Japan wants to bolster their army with meta-humans who didn’t sign, that’s Japan’s business. The rest of the world may not be happy with that, but the UN is not an elected ruling body and just doesn’t have the authority to make regulations like that. A lot of countries will play nice with sweeping calls such as that and go along with them, but they’re under no obligation to follow them (and certainly not with US law - the UN’s rulings have zero legal ramifications here until they’re passed in state or federal legislatures).

Any enhanced individuals who use their powers to break the law (including those who take part in extralegal vigilante activities), or are otherwise deemed to be a threat to the safety of the general public, may be detained indefinitely without trial.

Hahaahahhahahahahah. No. Breaks the Fifth Amendment in the Bill of Rights, which is a part of the Constitution (which equals the backbone of American law -- things that go to the Supreme Court are there to basically see if something is constitutional or not. It’s a lot more complicated than it sounds, though).

Unfortunately this is a real situation that’s being dealt with now with specific people of the “aiding terrorists” category throughout the last 20 or so years of presidency (both the left and right with politicians signing it, and both the left and right with American activists opposing it, according to my brief study on the issue - you can look up indefinite detention if you want to read more).

Regardless, super super breaks the Fifth Amendment. While the amendments were written for specifically American citizens or folks on American soil, I personally think it’s important it’s a value that is upheld with everyone, no matter what they’ve been accused of. But that’s all I’ll say on that real world topic. This UN mandate hits very close to home - kudos to the writer who put that in for that touch of reality.

The use of technology to bestow individuals with innate superhuman capabilities is strictly regulated, as is the use and distribution of highly advanced technology (such as Asgardian and Chitauri weaponry).

Doesn’t break any known laws to my knowledge. Regulation of dangerous things is pretty common.

The Avengers will no longer be a private organization and will operate under the supervision of the United Nations.

I don’t think the UN has the legal ability to do that. The US government would need to do this as this is a private organization operating within the US on US soil. The US government has acquired private organizations in real life (like GM during the financial crisis of 2008), but they quickly find how much that sucks and sell them off as soon as they can, lol.

Again, the UN is operating under the supposition that they actually have the legal wherewithal to do this when, in reality, they don’t. There is no such thing as international law in the real world and I sincerely doubt in the MCU verse.

What would very likely happen, should Thanos not have ruined this exciting political drama, is that the US totally agrees to do this. Then a new administration or legislature comes in and reverses it 2-6 years later, assuming that all of the lawsuits from various countries didn’t cripple the Accords sooner.

Those with secret identities must reveal their legal names and true identities to the United Nations.

Hahahahaha. Under whose authority? We’ve established there’s no international law. It’d be up to every single individual country to agree to not only do this, but *share* this list with every other country. If I was the decision maker in the US or China, there’s no way in fucking hell I’d do that. Israel or Iran? Fuck no! Do I *want* all my meta humans to be assassinated by other countries?

The MCU has this little fairy tale (that sometimes the real UN carries on with) that everyone gets along just great when, in reality, that’s really, really, really unlikely.

Those with innate powers must submit to a power analysis, which will categorize their threat level and determine potential health risks.

I could make an argument that this breaks the Fourth Amendment (unreasonable searches and seizures). You cannot forcefully take DNA from someone unless they’ve been convicted of a crime (and in, I think 20 states I just read, if you’ve been arrested, but even that’s been challenged under the Fourth Amendment in those various states the past decade).

If they’re already having a legal argument about this for DNA of people who were arrested, they’re going to have a hell of an argument for this requirement just for *existing*.

Those with innate powers must also wear tracking bracelets at all times.

Oh that’s nice, the UN thinks meta-humans are animals! Likely breaks the Fourth Amendment. Found an interesting article about Amazon and their little tracking bracelets from two years ago that is semi-relevant, and those are employees. Imagine if you required everyone of some minority race or nationality to wear a tracking device because they’re statistically more dangerous due to the prevalence of crime amongst them, or something inane like that.

Yeah, it’s something like that bad. Definitely breaks the privacy protection that previous rulings regarding the Fourth Amendment have established.

Governments are forbidden from deploying enhanced individuals outside of their own national borders unless those individuals are given clearance as described above. The same rule also applies to non-government organizations that operate on a global scale (including S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers).

International law doesn’t exist. This is done via treaties and agreements, but again, the UN has no legal leg to stand on (and countries -- US included -- often just ignore them). If China wants to take over Nepal with meta humans, who the fuck is really gonna stop them? I mean, really? If the US wanted to take over Baja California from Mexico, same question. The UN just doesn’t have the authority (or frankly put, the manpower). Countries often play nice, but there’s plenty of times where they don’t, either.

(But you know who would try to prevent the US/China from taking over Baja/Nepal? Meta humans. That likely aren’t allowed to fight under Accords mandates but do so anyway, all the while flipping the bird towards their nearest UN building :D)

As a corollary, they will not be allowed to participate in any active missions undertaken by private or governmental law enforcement/military/intelligence organizations (such as S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers).

See “international law doesn’t exist and it’s up to each individual country to determine this for themselves” as explained in previous sections.

If an enhanced individual violates the Accords, or obstructs the actions of those enforcing the Accords, they may likewise be arrested and detained indefinitely without trial.

As established, breaks the Fifth Amendment of the US. And fuck, we saw this in action in Civil War-- or so it seemed. Ross definitely looked like he was leaning that way. I wouldn’t put it past Ross. He’s been bad news ever since he was hunting the Hulk.

The creation of self-aware artificial intelligence is completely prohibited.

Heh, not really applicable to the current world, but not necessarily something I’d like to see in the real world either. I’m afraid we’re gonna get a Skynet or HAL rather than a JARVIS or WALL-E.

This was fun, in a weird way.

#mdcbd #ask #answered #sokovia accords #fictional law #mcu #real world law too #meta #long post

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tellywoodtrash · 3 years

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immj2 30.10.20 lb

lol ishani is suchhhhhhhhh a messy bitch. not even pretending to look less than outright gleeful.

le, iska rona shuru. god sis, you knowwwwwww these bitches have it out for you, then why do you give them the satisfaction of seeing this reaction???

yeh aadmi hai ya bhagwaan? koi bhi jagaah koi bhi time marzi se prakat ho jaata hai.

THAT FUCKING STUPIDASS SCARF IS RUINING THE WHOLEEEEEE LOOOK. GOD WHY DO THEY DO THIS TO HIM?????????

TUMNE JITNE TELLYWOOD FANS KO KHOOOON KE AANSOON RULAAYE HAINNNNA SHIRALI, BHAGWAN TUMHE IN PAAPON KE LIYE KABHI NAHI MAAF KAREGA!!!!!!!!!!

also, just noticed the set and production design credits and finally have names to put on all the hate mail i wanna send.

naaaah jk, i think it's really nice that they got employment in this pandemic, even with their OBVIOUS lack of taste. so much so, that it seems to be a medical condition!

anyway, he said he got this sargi for ishani on behalf of angre, but since she's got hers anyway, this one can be given to riddhima. noice. this fucker be worming his way into my heart with shit like this.

inka phir se popat bann gaya.

mummy biting out and giving the worst blessing of all, “sadaa suhaagan raho.” which is just an elaborate way of saying "hope you die before your husband does, because life without a man is worse than death itself!!!!!!"

“thank you mummyji. aapne ~~sachchi neeyat~~~ se sargi taiyyar kii thi toh dekhiye, mere haath khaali nahi hain!”

lmao nice. where was this riddhima allllll along?????? i've been waitinggggg for this snarky bitchhhhh who doesn't take shit!!!!!

le, aadarsh bahu mode is back on. sab ke liye koi paath ka intezaam kiya. chanchal chachi was right, she's suchhhhh a annoying suck-up to dadi, honestly.

husband is like here, no one's looking; sneak some almonds, come on. yes, i approve. this the kinda man* you want ladies. one who's willing to have a few hours taken off his lifespan so you don't get hangry.

(*T&C strictly apply: only in this feeding waala criteria wrt this dude. baaki sab toh disaster hi disaster hai iss mein.)

“kaisi baat kar rahe ho??? vrat sachchi nishtha se kii jati hai. koi nahi dekh raha par bhagwaan dekh rahe hain!”

lmao, the most appropriate response.

wait you guys genuinely need a gif of this moment, coz it’s priceless:

i can't believe they don't let this dude move his face in this show when he is the MOST ENTERTAINING when he doessssss.

he's like dude i'll adjust with the 2 hours less in my life, but dharampatni is i won’t let you escape a minute of suffering existence in this flesh prison we’re all trapped in, so help me god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

who the fuckkkkkkkkk is this????? and you know you didn't need a needle on the syringe for this whole thing, don't you???

vansh's "baaz ki nazar" toh i've long given up on, but riddhima's peripheral vision also seems to be completely shit if she didn't notice a wholeass person wrapped in all black skulking around directly in her eyeline, not 10 feet away.

lmaooooooo dadi is like tf you doing here, and the hasty retreat he beat. scaryass men soft for their sweet old grandmas is a trend i really do love in tellywood.

oh i like ishani's outfit.

blah blah blah KC gyaan idgaf.

riddhima has lit diya and instant cough attack from the smoke.

it's her. she's the one who did this. looks like she's okay with bhai dying a few days earlier than fated, as long as it means she knocks riddhima down a few pegs.

mummy rubbing it in saying dekho yeh akhand paath hai, beech mein rukna nahi chahiye, apshagun hota hai. godddddddddddddd.

I HONESTLY CANNOT WATCH HER COUGH AND CHOKE THROUGH THIS THE SHEER RIDICULOUSNESS OF THIS IS FUCKING KILLING MEEEEEEEEE

yeh lo ji, parmeshwar prakat ho gaye to save the day and read the paath himself.

all dudes in the world should be in whatever business this guy and angre are in. ki biwi mil gayi toh it manages itself while he devotes himself to her.

lmao the sheer earnestness with which he's narrating the KC paath. both wholesome and fucking hilarious. looks like those primary school kids at their first public speaking contest.

i am ishani. god, why won't this scene just endddddddd already, i'm dying of cringe.

whoooooooooooops. bhai is pointedly asking ki how riddhima's throat got messed up when she was fine like 3 min ago.

behen is giving earnesttttttt excuses and he's really "sure jan"-ing her.

dadi's all no matter what issues crop up in these two's lives, i'm sure they'll win over it with their lurrrrrrrrrrrrrrve. yeah, it looks that way rn, but i wouldn't be quite so optimistic yet, dadi.

literally no one is surprised by this revelation.

oh god, she has something more planned. man who are these ppl with so much energy in their lives WHILE PREGNANT, to do such scheming and plotting??????? just my period cramps have me taking 2 hours off work to curl up on my heat pad and cry about ouchieeeeeee.

great. ragini ko ab daure pad rahein hain.

and poor angre is saddled with getting her treatment. WHY DOES HE HAVE TO DEAL WITH ALL THESE TROUBLESOME WOMEN IN YOUR LIFE VANSH?!?!?! EK ADIYAL BEHEN ISKE SAR PE BAANDH DI HAI WOH KAAFI NAHI THA, KI AB INVALID EX KO BHI ISKE HI HAATH MEIN THAMAA DIYA. i know you got your hands full with that disaster wife of yours, but come on man.

oh god is he gonna blow up at her again for eavesdropping!?!!?!?!?

thank the lord above, she had airpods in. (also lmao, ofc she's literally the airpods meme.)

isn't HE supposed to give HER a gift today???

i liked his other watch better. but this watch is supposedly riddhima “ke dil ki dhadkano se judi hai” so........ i'm no expert in cutting edge watch technology, so sure. sounds like something that would be available for the wives of billionaire gangster’s wives to buy.

oh man she got herself a matching one. which ofc is “tumhare dil ki dhadkano se judi hai.” lord, she CHEESY CHEESYYYYYYYYYYYY. and i'm mildly lactose intolerant, so 🤢🤢🤢

this dude is not though. he falling for this hard and fast. which is....... unexpected. nice, but also suspicious.

“yeh ghadiyaan chahe rahein naa rahein riddhima, lekin tum mere dil mein hamesha rahogi.”

that's sweet. and i'd believe and squee over it if this was any other show. i would. but in this show, literally everyone other than dadi/siya is out to fuck each other over and i don't trust a single goddamn word out their hissy snake mouths.

aaaaaaaaaaaaand ofc he's vrat-ing for her too. BECAUSE THIS IS A FEMINIST SHOW WITH THIS VERY FEMINIST HERO OK?!!!!!!?!?!!!!?!? THIS ONE EPISODE ABSOLVES ALLLLLLLLLLLL THE OTHER 98 EPISODES FILLED WITH HOT FLAMING TRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!

“apni umar badhaake kya karoonga main, agar tum saath nahi ho. main chahta hoon ki tum meri zindagi ki aakhri saans tak mere saath raho.”

again, very very sweet and all, esp. with these soft melty eyes; but it's this show. and we saw the upcoming promo. sooooooooo, kill bill sirens in my head, i'm afraid.

both mann hi mann mein deciding to tell each other the truth about their backstories after the vrat. which should work out splendidlyyyyyyy.

lo ji dream sequence shuru. voot blocked the music but colors put up the scene with bol na halke halke on instaTV so i watched it there.

yesssssssssss you messy trainwrecks. get it onnnnnnnnnn.

this is literally alllll i am watching this show for. the moment y'all bang in canon, i'm outttttttttttt. it's always the best time to quit a tellywood show. always. take this protip from wise, old TT. quit the show the episode the lead couples fuck. just trust me on this.

idk WHOSE dream sequence this is, but lmao it's got the vibes of a not-that-great wedding "promo" thing ppl have got going on these days. which one of y'all is binging these on youtube and thus has their subconscious filled with it/??? it's gotta be riddhima, but it would be absolutely fucking hilariousssssss if it was in fact, vansh.

yup. it was her dumb ass. i bet she had the exact video in mind for kabir and just cut-copy-pasted vansh's face in there from the last week onwards.

oh chachi's back from maayka for vrat kholing.

mans literally do be looking like the chand today. because they eased up on his yellow foundation, thank god.

poor ishani. god, this is why we need feminism. so our sisters don't get pushed into shit like this against their willllllllllllllllll.

dadi and siya shipping riansh to the point of making ppl uncomfortable. what next, you gonna be writing mature fanfic about them on IF????? BACK THE FUCK OFF, YOU WEIRDOS.

“humaare plans kamyaab hote toh vansh iss waqt riddhima ko zeher ki pyaali pilaa raha hota. hmph.”

lmaoooooooooooooooo mummy is an eternalllllllll mood.

this one is getting overly emotional about her first completed karwachauth vrat. eat a snickers, bitch.

dadi overpromising and saying shit like evennnnnnnnn god himself can't shake your love for each other, tumhari prem kahaani billlkulllll pooori hogi and what not. oh dadi, did YOU not see the promo?????

this one got the footage she needed and has duly handed it over to bhai. both of vansh's sisters have the trait for going straightttttt to him with their sordid discoveries, albeit for completely polar reasons.

lmaoooooo the way she peaced out.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand he's started growling about how all this KC naatak was fake and and vowing revenge and games for her dhokaaaaaaaaaa. i hate to say it but............ i told you so.

also abbe oh gobar ganesh. itna CCTV footage mila hai kahin se, toh baaki ka bhi toh dhoond, where you see how she got into the bloody dickey?!?!???! nahi, 2 out-of-context second hi dekh ke paagal saand ki taraah bekaabu ho jaana hai. shit for brains, literally everyone in this show has.

anyway, if i was vansh’s murti maker, i’d be expecting a call righhhhhht about now. riddhima yahaan rahe na rahe, uski murti zaroor rahegi, which vansh and his next paramour will demolish together as a bonding/foreplay exercise.

#ishq mein marjawan 2 #immj2 #immj2 lbs #episode liveblogs

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ionlycareaboutyou · 4 years

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For prompts can you do really really fluffy sethon? Like maybe it's snowing too hard outside so seth and stefon have to stay inside alllll day?

ahhh anon i’m sorry it took me awhile to get to you but i want you to know i absolutely adore this prompt. snowy days and fluff are my favorite things to write! this will be absolutely toothrotting, i hope you like it!

Stefon never thought it would be the case, but a few years into his marriage, he realizes that he doesn’t mind mornings at all. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t go out as much as he used to anymore. He’s become soft and boring in his “old age”. Now, the drug he prefers above all is weed, and he hasn’t snorted coke in about a year and a half. He prefers wine to strangely-colored vodka now, though it’s not like he’s forgotten how to party. He’ll go out with Shy and Jacked Beth sometimes on the weekends, but he finds himself coming home early most of the time, slipping between the already-warm sheets and being met by the soft arms of his husband.

It’s January, which is always sort of a depressing month. The holiday spirit has disappeared and the sky is always gray. People’s faces are stony and downturned on the street as they walk briskly to work, trying to get away from the cold as quickly as possible. As Stefon slips out of bed, he kisses the forehead of his still sleeping husband and slides his feet into his slippers. Even Bark Ruffalo is still asleep, curled up at Seth’s feet. It’s Sunday, so there’s no need to wake them up.

Usually, when he wakes up earlier than his husband, he’ll go to the bakery a few blocks down the street and get some fresh bagels and hot cups of coffee. That was the plan for today, but when he looks out the window, the snow is coming down relentlessly, fat and pure white flakes dancing in the wind. It’s already piling up on the ground, though he’s sure with people trudging through it, it’ll diminish sooner rather than later. Still, it’s far too cold to go to the bakery, and they might not even be open in this weather, so he decides it’s a homemade breakfast kind of day.

He’s not an expert cook or anything, but he watches a lot of shows these days. Great British Bakeoff, Chopped, Masterchef, that one Youtube channel Bon Appetit...it’s soothing to him. He was a kid who qualified for the free lunches in high school, which sounds nice in theory but it’s an immediate marker to anyone who knows that you’re getting free lunch. “Poor” was practically painted on his forehead in lipstick, despite his attempts to not look it. And he went so long, not eating for various reasons--because he wanted to be skinny and have bones that cut, because that was the Look, because he couldn’t afford a meal, because coke and caffeine were appetite suppressants. He gained weight when he moved in with Seth, and it bothered him at first. He spent many moments scrutinizing himself in the mirror, pinching and pulling at skin, until Seth put it into perspective for him.

“You’re healthy,” he had said, “You’re healthy and your skin has much more color, and your hair is much shinier, because you’re eating three meals a day.” He kissed his forehead then, and Stefon fought back tears at how earnest and tender the action was. “So don’t say anything about your body. I like it very much.”

He doesn’t mind the extra weight he’s put on now. He has his bad days, where he looks in the mirror and scowls at his dark circles and the red spots that appear on his chin and cheeks now and again. Seth will make a point of kissing his cheeks and his forehead and his tummy, and while it’s true it doesn’t fix everything, it does melt all the bad feelings away in the moment.

The breakfast he decides to make is fairly straightforward--French toast with powdered sugar and some berries on top. Bark Ruffalo comes in the kitchen when he’s frying the bread and sits at his slippered feet with an expectant look. Stefon gives him a small blueberry. “I’ll let you out in a bit,” he promises. “You’ll get buried in this snow.” Bark just tilts his head a little. “But you’re more preoccupied with what I’m making, huh? French toast is not for dogs.” He scolds him, but leans down to scratch behind his ears briefly before returning to the stove. Once he’s got the food arranged nicely on two plates, dusted with just the right amount of powdered sugar and the berries as strategically placed as possible, he goes to make the coffee.

Coffee is special, to both of them. Their first meeting was over coffee in Seth’s office, his the color of khaki pants and Stefon’s as black as a moonless night. Seth always smelled like coffee back then, coffee and cigarettes he’d stress smoke and fabric softener (how the scent of that clung onto those hoodies he would wear until they were threadbare, Stefon had now clue). Saturday, he’d clean himself up, put product in his hair and shave and let them put concealer under his eyes before he went out to sit behind the desk. The first time they kissed, he smelled like aftershave and cologne and a lingering, still stress smoked cigarette. Stefon would never forget it.

He fixes the two cups of coffee exactly how they both like, and he’s about to put everything on a tray and bring it to the bedroom when he feels arms slip around his waist. He nearly screams, and he’s thankful there’s nothing in his hands, because he could’ve ruined their whole breakfast. “Sorry,” Seth says and laughs, raspy and soft, his lips brushing the skin of Stefon’s neck.

His heartrate lowers and he melts into his husband’s arms, unable to be mad at him when he’s holding him like this. “Seth Meyers, you terrified me.”

“I’m sorry again. Did you make all this? It smells great.”

Stefon nods. “Did you see the snow? I wanted to get us bagels, but it’s--”

“Terrible out there,” Seth agrees, though Stefon knows he’s seen far worse in New Hampshire. He kisses at the lines of Stefon’s jaw, still half-asleep and affectionate. “Thank you for all of this, baby, it looks amazing.”

“I hope it tastes amazing, too.” He turns around in Seth’s arms to face him and kisses him deep then, hands coming up to frame his face and stroke his cheekbones with the pad of his thumbs. He’s warm and he smells like sleep.

“Let’s eat on the couch.” Seth suggests when they finally pull away, not wanting the food to get cold, and that’s exactly what they do. They sit their plates in their laps and put a record on the turntable. It’s Stefon’s choice today, and he picks some Leonard Cohen that Seth introduced him to, and turns the volume down low. Their knees touch on the couch, pressed side-to-side, and powdered sugar lingers on their lips and their chins and in Seth’s case, on his nose. Stefon kisses it off. When they finish their food and coffee, they take it to the sink and quickly make their way back to the couch, wrapping themselves up in a blanket. Seth wraps his arms around Stefon and presses his face into his neck. “Let’s not do anything today,” he decides. “Way too cold out there.”

“Don’t have to tell Stefon twice.” He taps Seth’s face so he’ll lift it, and brings him in for another kiss. He tastes sweet now, like berries. They shift so Seth is on top of him, hands on his face, in his hair, and they kiss and kiss and kiss. It’s so unhurried and lazy, lips slotting against each other and separating. The kisses sound gentle and soft, only accompanied by the still-playing record. Snow continues to fall outside, and their legs tangle up together. Seth’s stubble scratches at Stefon’s neck as he kisses it and he makes a sound in between a gasp and a moan, playing with his soft hair and wrapping his legs further around his waist. The weight of Seth on top of him is like an extra blanket. He’s still in his sleep t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, and he’s so warm. “You feel so warm,” he has to say, so Seth knows.

“Mm, yeah?” Seth questions, kissing at his collarbone now. “So’re you.”

They kiss for quite awhile on the couch, and Stefon’s not sure if they’ve ever spent so long kissing. Usually when they make out like this, they’re on their way to taking their clothes off and getting each other off, and he’s sure they will do that later in the day, but for now he’s content to just kiss, let hands wander over soft fabric and skin. He’d be happy to fall back asleep on the couch, with Seth lying on his chest. He’s happy with anything, because his husband is so close to him, and while it’s so cold outside, they’re keeping each other warm.

#thank you again!#sethon #otp #my writing #i am a lil sleepy so if there are any grammar or spelling errors i'm so sorry #Anonymous

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lightwoodsmagic · 4 years

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I’m worried about Liam and his album and I didn’t know where to go but you always seem rational. I feel awful because there’s only a few songs I like and the album isn’t getting good reviews but Liam DESERVES good things, and then everything with ‘both ways’ happened. I’m so sad for him, but do you think he’ll be okay? I don’t want him to be cancelled, but the song was such a bad choice? His image in the eyes of the public seems ruined. Please tell me what you think :(

Hi anon,

Thank you for thinking of me, and for thinking that I’m rational. I know this has been sitting in my inbox for the better part of a day, but in order to be rational and approach this properly, I had to take some time to let myself play out all of my emotions.

I’m here now! And I think I’m ready. This post is long though, so I’ve popped it under the cut.

Before I start properly, there’s a few things I want to say first.

- I love Liam, an absolutely ridiculous amount. Liam’s music isn’t the usual genre I would listen to, but I will always support him and his music, and his fashion, and everything else he does.

- I am incredibly proud of him for finally being able to release his album.

- As anyone who follows me knows, I strongly believe Liam is queer, and closeted, and in a relationship with Zayn. Here’s a masterpost I made about it earlier this year.

- I’m realistic. Some things below may not be what people agree with, or wanna hear, but you asked for my opinion.

Okay. Here we go. I’ve divided it into sections to address your ask properly. I’m also aware that this is pretty late in terms of fandom, and I haven’t been on Tumblr, so people have no doubt said many of the things I’m about to say.

LP1

First thing: don’t feel bad for only liking a couple of songs on Liam’s new album. Everyone’s music taste is different and it is completely possible to love and support someone even if you don’t absolutely love their music. It does not make you a fake fan, or mean that you love Liam less, or anything like that. Please don’t worry about that. It’s okay not to love the album. Completely okay.

Also, YES. Liam does deserve good things, always.

You’re right; it hasn’t been getting great reviews, but even though I really enjoyed the album despite my musical preferences, some people are frustrated, and not just reviewers. People are frustrated that a third of it is collabs, that half of it is songs we’ve heard before (that weren’t just released as a lead up to the album), and that Liam seemed to hardly write on it. We’ve known for a while that something’s been up with Liam’s album, especially when last year he said he had a full album ready to go, and then suddenly it was like it was scrapped, and he had to start again.

We also know that Liam is a brilliant writer; he wrote so much for One Direction. So many people completely disregard this because Liam once said that he was more about the melodies, and Louis more the lyrics. Under no circumstances does that mean he does not, and did not, write great lyrics, or just good songs in general. That kind of thinking is also what leads to a lot of Liam’s erasure from Home, which is something I also touched on in the masterpost I linked above. It’s something that frustrates me a lot, when people forget about his writing ability. It doesn’t help though when he didn’t, or maybe wasn’t allowed to, write more on his own debut album.

Overall, in terms of his album in general, I’m exceptionally proud that it’s been released, and sad for him that it’s not getting great reviews. Reviews don’t always matter, though! The support for the album from other sources has been really brilliant, and I’m sure he was feeling the love (and still is, despite recent stuff that I’ll touch on now).

Both Ways

No matter how you look at the situation, no matter who you are or what you think of Liam, it is baffling to me that this song went through numerous people to be released, especially knowing that a large part of Liam’s fan base consists of young, queer women from his days in the band.

It should never have been a surprise that the reception was bad; the people who are upset about it are allowed to be upset, and their feelings are valid. In a world where bisexual and pansexual people are constantly fetishised, it’s a kick in the face for some people. I’m pan, and while personally I wasn’t overly offended by the song, I did cringe at a couple of bits, and I have no right to tell other people how they should or shouldn’t feel.

To me, there’s a couple of options as to what happened here:

- It was genuinely just a gross misjudgement on everyone’s behalf. People make mistakes. I hate cancel culture. At the moment, if this is the case and they all genuinely didn’t think it would be this bad, I’m not sure if Liam addressing it would be a good thing, or if it’d just make things worse. If he apologises, it’s going to seem disingenuous to a large number of people, but if he doesn’t, it’s like he doesn’t care at all about the people that’ve been hurt. It’s not a good place to be in.

- It was a purposeful song put into his album by his team to push his narrative. Liam’s in a shit spot at the moment. A very large majority of the media attention leading up to his album used negative promo, like his ‘relationship’ with M*ya and the fight at the bar during Thanksgiving. Aside from very recently, Liam’s team have been a nightmare, and it’s frustrating when people can’t see that he’s in a situation just as bad as some of the other men. Would I be surprised if this explanation is the correct one? Abso-fucking-lutely not. I’ll touch on it a bit more in the next bit though.

No matter what, the song was not a good decision, and was not going to go down well. Alllll of this leads onto…

How it affects Liam’s image

I’m separating this into three parts to explain it the way I think I need to; the part of the fandom who believes he’s queer and closeted, the part of the fandom who don’t, and the general public.

The part of the fandom that believe Liam is queer and closeted

Liam’s image hasn’t changed here. This whole thing has made this section of the fandom angry, frustrated, and sad. At a time when everyone should be able to just relax and enjoy Liam’s new album, we’re bombarded from all over the internet with people trying to cancel him. Angry because Liam is being absolutely attacked, especially at a time when he’s just spoken about how fragile his mental health is, and because there’s quite a few hypocrites around at the moment. Frustrated because there’s nothing that can really be done at this point, and when it comes to Liam, people never seem to care as much as they should. Sad because we love him so much and he deserves such good things, and people never seem to care enough to recognise that.

It’s also frustrating that people can’t, or refuse to, realise that Liam is just as closeted, has had just as much PR bullshit including at the moment, and suffered through forced interview after forced interview, and been made to say a million things. It’s also important to note that if Harry can have a stunt song, and Louis can have a stunt song, Liam can also have a song (even if not directly stunt related) added to his album to push through his current narrative. They’re different situations, different songs, and different explanations, but they all have the same running cause. Just something to think about.

The part of the fandom that don’t think that

Fuck me, I never realised how massive a chunk of this fandom there is that does not give a shit about Liam James Payne. Can’t relate, but okay. In terms of his image here, it kinda depends; for some people, they’re not fussed enough to pay attention, but that can mean that they’ll just believe he’s an arsehole here because they can’t be fucked to look into it. People don’t have to be invested in all five of them, of course they don’t, but it might be a big negative here.

For other people, the ones that seem to hate him for some reason, this adds so much more fuel to the fire. There’s a lot of people currently calling him out for homophobic things he said about Harry, which I’ve spoken about before but can’t find my own damn post but the masterpost I tagged at the start of this mentions it a tiny bit. When this swirled up again recently in the last month or so, which interesting timing, the media ran a TONNE of articles about how Liam had been talking shit about Harry. Harry liked the very next tweet Liam posted, even though it had nothing to do with him or the situation, and Harry wasn’t just on a liking spree. It seemed very much like a ‘hey, don’t worry, we’re all okay, don’t believe this shit’. This section of the fandom is exceptionally unlikely to change their mind about him unfortunately.

I spoke about this very recently, but the fact that people can’t see Liam’s situation for what it is, and can see the others, is beyond frustrating because the patterns are INCREDIBLY similar, and there’s very similar situations.

Also, Liam and Louis’ friendship is 100% legit. They’re very close. If there’s anyone out there who loves Louis and thinks he’s closeted, but hates Liam, do you really think Louis would love Liam so much if this was really who he was? Someone who doesn’t care about the community that Louis is obviously so fiercely proud of, and someone who talks legitimate shit about Louis’ partner? Of course he wouldn’t, because Liam is also closeted and stuck in a shit situation and made to say things in interviews to stir up One Direction drama for the media. Speaking of the media though…

The general public

When I woke up this morning and Mar told me about the hashtag that was trending on Twitter, I was instantly so emotional, for a lot of reasons. As I said before, I hate cancel culture in the easy way it exists. People are allowed to make a mistake, or slip up, or make a wrong move; everyone is human. It’s how they respond to it that should change things.

There’s a couple of problems here, though.

- Liam can’t really respond to it in the way he needs to. Like I said before, I don’t know whether it’d be better or worse for him to talk about it. The only genuine way he could is to come clean about everything, and he can’t fucking very well do that, can he? So the apology will just be a lie, and people probably won’t believe it anyway.

- People are more willing to forgive someone if it’s one mistake, but Liam’s team have fucked with his image so much that to the general public, it’s not one mistake. We know they’re not real, but if we step back from the fandom and try to look at it through the eyes of someone who knows not very much about him and only knows what the media pushes, it’s a slightly horrifying image.

When I speak to my friends about Liam, people often think he’s arrogant, conceited, and your standard ‘gym bro’. The GP may remember the times he was made to say homophobic things, and if they don’t remember, they’re reminded in every new article. They see him as the young guy who dated a woman in her mid 30’s and got her pregnant, and who hardly sees his ‘son’ and therefore is a deadbeat ‘dad’. They see him now as the man in his mid 20’s who’s ‘dating’ a teenager, and the articles I’ve seen today all mention her, some mentioning the debate about her age and others trying to say the song is about her even though it was being written about three years ago. They see him as a man who has fights outside bars, and are told it was because of his underage ‘girlfriend’. They see him as an artist who sings about getting wasted, sex, and being rich.

I know I’m setting a bleak image, anon, and I’m sorry, I am. I don’t believe a single word of the above obviously, and NO ONE should, but it’s the reality of the situation for the GP, and it shouldn’t be pushed to the back as if we should only blame other sections of the fandom for his image, or that this isn’t, realistically, how it looks for Liam right now.

We know Liam as the kind, sweet, caring, protective, talented, queer man that’s been there for us through his music and his words, who’s been there for the boys the entire time since the band started, who’s suffered through addiction and mental health problems to come out the other side stronger than ever.

They don’t know that, anon, and I don’t know what Liam will do to come back from this massive of a social media hit. There’s numerous articles slamming him, the hashtag trended for almost a whole day in Australia at least, and for some of the GP, it’s the final thing in a long list of bullshit that Liam’s supposedly done. Each article mentions all of the above things again too, and Apple Music even mentions Ch*yl and B*ar directly by name.

I’m hoping for his sake that in a few days, this will all blow over, and it’ll be handled the way it needs to be handled. The problem is that I don’t know what the right way to handle it is.

I think he’ll be okay. I believe he’ll be okay, I do, but I think in terms of the GP, he has a way to go. I want the very best for Liam, always, and I will always continue to love and support him. Everyone else should too, because right now, he needs it from us more than ever.

#liam

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taylornock · 4 years

Text

how cell phones made our lives better while simultaneously ruining them

hi fam!! it’s me, again. are you tired of hearing from me? me too. that’s why I’m here to rant about social media / phone / technology. bc i hate it… but in a loving way???

everyone remembers when they got their first iPhone. seriously. why is that such a monumental moment in our lives? i can hardly remember what i felt like freshman year of high school but can pinpoint the feeling of sheer glee unwrapping my iPhone 6 in eighth grade. i have this thing that is attached to me 24/7 - when I go anywhere (even downstairs) without my phone i feel weird. that is f***ing SAD! PATHETIC. i hate feeling that dependent on what is essentially a pocket robot.

for what it’s worth - phones have done INCREDIBLE things for the world as we know it. for example, this quarantine shit has been testing all of us; and our phones are helping us get through it in so many ways. our phones let us see the faces of those loved ones we are missing, our phones provide us with stupid tik tok content to keep everything light hearted, and our phones let us check in on each other. all amazing things! when we are at school, we have instant access to our lives at home . being able to call my mom whenever i want is something i definitely abuse. “mom, I’m on my way home from Thompson right now and i think i have a brain aneurysm but my bio final is at 11am tomorrow will i make it” … an actual conversation i had with my mom at the end of freshman year. needless to say i was medicated shortly after THAT meltdown. I am such a brat that i don’t know what i would do if i couldn’t text my dad and have him immediately get me the password again to our Uverse account…… god forbid i miss an episode of the bachelor. i have this phone, and that’s what i do with it? abuse its powers to ask my parents for medical advice or a password i forgot? have we lost sight of everything here?

throughout life and especially throughout quarantine… my phone is the definition of a possession that is a blessing and a curse. I’m so grateful to have the ability to bother my friends - whenever i want! the options are endless! i love keeping in touch with people i thought id never hear from again, and being able to talk to so many people in my life and make my heart swell. now, when a conversation with someone other than my two roommates (shoutout parents) is so rare ⎯ that phone is my weapon and i use it to help flatten the curve: flatten the curve of covid19 and flatten the curve of my mental illness 🙃 [humor is a coping mechanism okay let me live] but like, i KNOW i’m not the only one that looks at my screen time and immediately wants to die. how can i honestly be looking at my phone for that long? picking it up THAT many times?????? my phone is the best distraction and also the most toxic - it makes me feel better but has a tendency to bring up all my issues and blast them into the reflection of my blue light glasses...... its called fashion look it up.

to give some examples - let’s open up my most used app: snapchat. I go on snapchat with the best of intentions - to see a memory from a year ago that makes me smile. to respond to my friends and see what their mood today is based on the look on their face. to creep on snap stories and see what everyone’s cooking and doing with their lives. somehow, tho, after spending a few minutes on the app.. i end up with a pit in my stomach most of the time. the person i want to respond hasn’t responded in 4 hours. oh god lets overthink this- they don’t like me anymore and are no longer interested in speaking to me and only respond every once in a while out of pity or because they are uncomfortable. everyone hates you. oh and GOD FORBID someone leaves me on open??! I am not funny nor interesting nor worth a reply - suddenly, i have equated my value to receiving or not receiving a photo of someone’s blank stare. this is extreme, and this is dramatic. but trust me —— this is the hamster wheel always turning in my head. I’m not even going to touch on snap maps; that feature is pandoras box and someone better fucking shut it.

second most used app is instagram. i scroll for hours, i have time limits set for the app acting like i’m actually going to listen to them and get off. lmaooooooooo. i love looking at aesthetic stuff and dogs and food and recipes and my friends’ beautiful faces. but you know what i don’t like? constant nudges to compare myself to others. oh look at her having a party with all of her friends even though we aren’t supposed to be. am i a loser for trying to be safe? oh look at her washboard abs, i’m never going to look like that and will never live up to the standard of beauty society has set for me. look at all of these people in their happy relationships. why can’t i have that? it goes over and over and over. its not like i sit there and think of these things just like that, its a precedent in my mind when i stare at everybody else that i am going to size my own life up against theirs. for years i followed every single elite model / VS angel on instagram to motivate me to do better - to start being psycho about what i did to my body so i could be as gorgeous as them. what kind of fucked up mindset is that? i would literally watch their footage of them eating rice and vegetables once a day and try to copy it. i would watch their runway walks obsessively trying to recreate them in heels alone in my house - like that was all i could imagine doing with my life. did i ever stop for a second to look at that photoshoot of gigi hadid and wonder if she was happy? wonder if the constant pictures she saw of herself ever made her insecure? what was i doing? the day i unfollowed those girls was a monumental day in my journey to a better self image. i didn’t realize the people i thought were my “motivators” were actually my triggers. i have grown to a point in life now that i would much rather eat a stack of chocolate chip pancakes that make me dance in my chair like an infant than practice my runway walk and shame my body in the mirror. and i am so freakin happy!

i could go app by app for hours. but moving on to the next thing i hate about cell phones - how they have destroyed our biological methods of communication. you hear about those psychos who think the world is destroyed by technology and we are going to be overrun by robots. but hey, I’m with the psychos on this one. i have this amazing friend, Trevor Wright, who without fail at EVERY dinner announces “phones off friends on” and collects our phones into the center of the table. yes, we are 20 year old adults. yes, we hand our phones over to Trevor and let him yell at us for trying to see if ~that person~ snap chatted us back. i have so much respect for him because of this. there is nothing worse than staring at your phones when you could be having a good conversation about life, about love, about laughter + memories, about “do you think hellen keller is real?” anything, bro, anything. anything but snapchat messaging your hoe of the week or mindlessly playing tetris to twiddle your thumbs. we all need to start loving a little harder, and the first step to doing that is to communicate better. communicate smarter. I’m guilty of alllll of the above, don’t get me wrong. and I am ADD asf and constantly playing mindless games just to stimulate my brain. but i need to stop that! even writing this is taking some time away from the dumb shit on my phone - and encouraging me to communicate how i r e a l l y feel to my homies that will read this. communication - especially body language - is fascinating. I’ve studied it in psych, I’ve learned the neurological bases of behavior and why we do what we do. I’ve learned how much our life experience impacts who we are as a whole...and it! is! fascinating! i also think that’s why i love film so much. because it can capture the raw moments of your friends just being your friends, of you just being the person you are, and the world around you just existing as it exists. i love the raw moments; and not just because indy blue posted one youtube video of her slow mo laughing and now thats the only footage i find myself shooting. 😚

im not quite sure what this post is, lol. but - just a rant on technology. so listen to me:

take advantage of technology + social media! it CAN BE GREAT. for so many reasons. but, don’t let technology + social media TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOU. stay true to you - know how to communicate with yourself and your loved ones without the use of a robot. remember that feeling when you setup up your first iPhone? imagine if you could feel that again, with your phone nowhere in sight. if you don’t know how to communicate with yourself yet, start by journaling. WRITE! TYPE! SPEAK! do what you want. getting your thoughts down even without an audience is so crucial to understanding yourself and others. if you don’t like to write, reflect. breathe. meditate. make art. do what makes you feel at peace, and do whatever makes you feel like the world makes a little bit more sense than it does.

IF YOU ARE READING DOWN TO HERE, I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU, SAY IT BACK! LIFE IS A FUCKING HIGHWAY. AND IM SO GLAD YOU’RE ON MY INTERSTATE. <3

xoxoxoxo

gossip girl

#phones #socialmedia #rant #blog #hi #tender #loveme #quarantine #covid19 #cellphones #iphone #followme!#taylor #tiktok #trending #writing

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chasingshhadows · 5 years

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michael’s control

So there’s something about episode 1.06 (Smells Like Teen Spirit) that I want to talk about and I’m actually really glad I waited until after 1.13 (Recovering the Satellites) to actually write this down because we get to see this come full circle.

Because the events of 1.06 bring into very very sharp focus one aspect of Michael that I think is super fucking important.

His control.

And episode 1.13 is the first - any only - time that we ever see Michael lose control.

(CW: graphic depictions of abuse)

He was 17 in 1.06, right? So this is just 3, maybe almost 4 years after the camping scene from the same episode.

So, in 3-4 years, he went from:

to :

Look at him here. Did anyone else notice how long it takes him to react, to shove Jesse away? Michael stands there watching long enough for Jesse to growl his nastiness in Alex’s face about “humiliation” before he finally seems to snap.

But I don’t think that’s him snapping, I don’t think that’s his breaking point. I think it’s the opposite, actually. I think he was teetering over the edge of a full-on meltdown, and it’s actually in that moment he rushes toward Jesse that he pulls himself off that ledge.

That pause isn’t because he doesn’t care or because he doesn’t think it’s his place to intervene - it’s because he cares too much and he wasn’t prepared for this. And by this point, he’s gotten himself so well trained that he forces himself back into control before he even allows himself to react.

Because losing control isn’t an option, not for Michael. Not when Isobel and Max’s lives are also on the line. Especially not in front of an already hostile adult who literally works for the government he’s spent his life hiding from.

And Michael had to learn control and mastery of his powers long before Max or Isobel, not just because his powers are the most recognizable as such (electrical oddities can be explained away; flying furniture, not so much), but also because unlike his siblings, he grew up in an unfriendly, abusive environment. We see that Michael is literally being physically (and rather brutally) punished for losing control, which is far, far more pressure than Max’s embarrassment over his wet dreams.

So Michael had to learn how to control himself, there was no wiggle room or other option. He had to follow that ethereal energy of his to its source, find it and tuck it away inside, build a cage around it and lock it away.

That chaos may continue to swirl and swell and rip him up inside, but somehow through it all, he’s found a way to anchor his telekinesis. He’s managed to compartmentalize those instincts away in some locked room in his mind and what happens in that shed just proves how absolutely firm his command of them is.

Especially what happens after you see him take the time to get himself under control. Because he gets his powers in check and then:

While obviously we can’t see the entire shed, it is incredibly clear that nothing starts flying around, if only because this is Jesse Manes. He’s spent his life around aliens - if anything off happened, he would have noticed immediately, and taken action.

Having seen this, having seen Michael endure that and still stay in control, the show cements for the audience that Michael Guerin has extraordinary control over his telekinesis. And that something would have to be very very wrong with him for him to ever lose control. And not just very very wrong, but worse than That^.

And in 1.13, we see exactly that. We see a Michael that has been emotionally wrecked in about 15 different ways to the point that he is stripped of all emotional and intellectual structure. He is not processing, he is not thinking, he is not maintaining the cage around his powers, isn’t capable of it.

Max shoots the antidote, effectively ending his chances of saving Noah, cutting off any of Michael’s last chances to get the answers he needs, and ensuring, for Michael, that all of those aliens in the prison died for nothing.

This. This is the first - and currently only - time that we have ever seen Michael lose control of his powers.

And you see in his reaction, he is shook.

He is horrified at what he’s done, and truly, looks about 12 years old. Just lost and floundering because he didn’t mean to do that. Because Michael wrangled his powers a long time ago and it’s been over a decade since he’s truly lost control. For a moment, Michael just does not know himself.

“We’re defined by what we can control.”

This show has put in the time and effort and development to show what it truly takes to break someone, to rip them apart so thoroughly that they violate a core element of themselves. And I think we saw that with all the aliens, actually, but none more devastatingly or strikingly so than with Michael.

They stripped Michael down so effectively that he, Michael Guerin, lost control.

This next part veers a bit into a different topic, but I still want to mention it here. Because what all of the above means for Michael, and for us as the audience, is that alllll those other times we saw what appeared to be “outbursts” from Michael were in fact intentional. They were calculated, they were on purpose. He uses his powers, in front of Isobel and Max, as a warning shot (generally directed at Max).

(this one was clearly intentional, as he was trying to distract/disrupt Max, but I’m including it because I’ve seen people talk about it as evidence of his “volatility” and I very much disagree with that.)

Michael isn’t losing control, he is just indicating, in a way he knows will not be mistaken, that Max done fucked up.

Because Max always made the rules, their whole lives, and was used to being listened to, but he doesn’t appear to have a lot of experience with listening to them.

We see on numerous occasions when Isobel and especially Michael attempt to make suggestions or decisions, that Max shuts them down or ignores them - we see it when Michael wanted to go to the Evans for help in 1.06, when they tell him not to tell Liz (both as teens and adults), and when Michael suggests they tell Isobel the truth about Rosa in 1.05 (which is ironic considering later he tries to pin that whole lie entirely on Michael).

Max is used to being the one with the plan, the one with the all the right answers, and he’s not used to accepting input. Michael using his powers at Max is his way of ensuring he’ll be heard.

(and I just want to note, once again, that I love Max dearly. He is flawed, just as everyone on this show is. And one of his flaws is his own self-assurance and inability to listen to others.)

TD;DR: Michael has more control in his pinkie toe than his siblings have combined and it is both incredibly badass to see and insanely heartbreaking to see him lose.

#michael guerin #roswell new mexico #rnm #roswellnm #rnm meta #michael guerin meta #i just have a lot of feelings #ober-affen-geil #michael's control

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trashyswitch · 4 years

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YouTube Collabs be like...

Chapter 2: Challenge, turned to Karma

It’s Felix’s turn to get destroyed! Luckily for him, Jack is being forgiving and merciful! Thank god for that!

“You ready for this, Felix?” Jack asked, finishing the last touches on the recording equipment.

“I guess so. I’m still nervous about being tickled to death.” Felix confessed.

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m not gonna let you pass out from exhaustion, and I’m CERTAINLY not gonna let you die of laughter.” Jack reassured.

Felix nodded his head in a comfortable understanding. “Okay.” He replied.

“Plus, no laughter will be happening until I figure out your ticklish spots.” Jack added before turning on the camera.

“GOOOOOD MORNING EVERYBODY!” Jack exclaimed.

“Hi everyone! I’m here with Jack! Just like yesterday!” Felix explained, pointing to Jack.

“I may or may not have slept over last night...” Jack confessed.

“.......that’s gay, dude.” Felix muttered. Jack’s smile grew even wider as he threw his head back.

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT! AND YOU KNOW THAT!” Jack shouted.

“JESUS CHRIST JACK! What other talents do you have, other than screaming?” Felix asked.

Jack thought for a second. “...falling into lava.” Jack said before bursting out into laughter.

“Okay, that’s true...” Felix agreed.

“But hey! It’s all in good fun.” Jack concluded.

“Now, I got completely wrecked in the dare video yesterday.” Jack said, remembering the moment.

[“HEHEHEHEY! Nahahat ohohon cahahahamera!”

“Felix! PUT ME DOWN! RIGHT NOW- Nohohohoho! You ahahasshohohole!”

“FELIX, NO! I’M BEGGING YOU! DON’T YOU DA- NAHAHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHO!”

“WAHAHA! Nahat FAHAHAIR! Please! AAAH! STOP-NAHAHA! STAHAP POHOHOKING me!”]

“Aaaah, the glorious memories.” Felix mocked, poking Jack’s side.

“Hehehey! You had your turn yesterday! Now it’s MY turn!” Jack defended. Jack rubbed his hands together and smirked at the camera.

“Oh boy...” Felix muttered, slightly sinking into his chair.

“So...” Jack started, clapping his hands together while staring at the camera eagerly. “Are you going to tell me your tickle spots now? Or am I going to have to hunt for them myself?” Jack asked, turning his head towards Felix.

Felix didn’t know how to reply. Part of him wanted to keep it a secret, but the other part of him wanted to make the whole experience go faster. So, Felix stayed stubborn. “I’m not telling you anything.” Felix fought, crossing his arms and smirking.

“Oooohohohoho! You wanna play this the HARD WAY! Huh, tough guy?” Jack teased, attempting to grab a hand.

“No! NO! HANDS OFF ME!” Felix yelled with a wobbly smile on his face.

“No can do man. I’ve been waiting ALLLLL NIGHT for this revenge time! And I am going to get it, no matter HOW LONG it takes me!” Jack said, standing up before ganging up on the man. Felix tried rolling away on his chair, but it was actually stopping him more than making him move. So, he ditched the chair and made a run for it.

“YOU FUCKIN- COME HERE, YOU!” Jack yelled, chasing him. Before you could say ‘BLIP BLOP’, the camera continued recording as a silly little chase scene took place in Felix’s recording room.

Jack finally managed to corner the Swedish man against the foam-covered walls.

“REVENGE TIME!” Jack said in a baby voice before grabbing Felix’s wrists. He pinned Felix’s wrists above his head with his left hand, and got ready to use his right hand for the tickling.

“Alright. Where should we start first?” Jack asked out loud. He decided to try tickling Felix’s sides.

“Gahahaha! Jahahack!” Felix bursted out.

“What? What could you POSSIBLY need at a time like this? Perhaps MOOORE tickles?” Jack teased. He stopped his hands, and reached for Felix’s right armpit.

“BAAAHAHAHAHAHA!” Felix yelled, before bursting into hysterical laughter.

“Okay! Your right armpit is kinda bad. But what about your left one?” Jack asked, slowing down his fingers so Felix could talk.

“My leheheft one ihis the sahahahame!” Felix replied.

“Really? Shall I prove it?” Jack asked. Immediately, Jack shoved his fingers into Felix’s vulnerable left armpit.

“JAAAAAHAHAHAHACK! NOOO!” Felix shouted as he squirmed in Jack's grip.

“I think your left armpit is a little worse than your right, but I’ll let this little lie slide.” Jack said, feeling merciful at that moment.

Next, Jack decided to try Felix’s stomach. He started skittering his fingers onto Felix's belly wherever he could reach.

"AAAH FUHUHUHUCK!" Felix yelled, before going silent. Jack's smile grew wider as he anticipated the awakening of Felix's most signature laugh: The hiccup laugh. He has heard it a couple times before. He's heard Felix's short spurts of laughter lots of times during multiplayer games (especially right now as he tickled him), but it was rare that he got to hear Felix's hiccup laughter! Despite the fact that Felix's laughter was silent, it was surprisingly contagious!

"God damn! That laughter! It's not as weird as Mark's, but it's definitely not normal!" Jack said, starting to laugh along with him.

"Ssshhhhhuhuhut up!" Felix said, breathless from the laughter.

"Aww! What's wrong? Is de wittle Swedish boy embawwassed?" Jack teased in a baby voice. "I wonder...are your hips ticklish as well?" Jack asked, before moving his hand to Felix's hips.

"NOHOHO! Please don't!" Felix begged, forcefully pulling on his hands to get them out of Jack's hand. After a few tugs, Felix did manage to get his hands out and defend his body.

"Dammit! Come on!" Jack yelled as he tried to grab Felix's hands again. "Ah fuck! No!" Jack yelled, smiling as he struggled. Felix managed to sneak a couple tickles into Jack's side. "AAhahahaha! Nahahaht FAHAHAIR!" Jack yelled as he moved backwards.

"Hey! You were the one teasing me!" Felix argued as he tickled his friend. Eventually, Jack managed to grip both of Felix's hands, and hold them above his head.

"This is supposed to be MY turn! I was being MERCIFUL to you! Now, you have to pay!" Jack warned, before moving behind Felix's body. Jack let go of Felix's hands, and started massaging his fingers into both of Felix's hips.

Felix's laughter turned silent almost immediately. His hiccup laughter returned, as Jack continued his attack.

"Hmm...How are your ribs?" Jack asked, leaving his left hand on his hip and digging his right hand into Felix's ribs.

"BAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHO MOHOHORE! *Hiccup* GAHAHA-*Hic*-AHA! *Hic*!" Felix shouted, hiccuping as he laughed hysterically. Jack went wide eyed before stopping.

"Holy shit! Are you okay?" Jack asked, genuinely worried. Was he killing the poor fella?! He waited for his friend to calm down a little bit, so he could talk.

"I'm...I'm okay. That usually happens." Felix told him. Jack let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay. Thank god. I thought I was killing ya." Jack explained. Felix shook his head as he gave his friend a little shove.

"It's alright. You weren't killing me." Felix reassured the guy. Jack smiled and pushed him back.

"Alright. I think that's a good time to end this challenge." Jack said.

"I hope you enjoyed these dares. We may do more dares in the future. But for now, Brofist!" Felix cheered, holding up his fist. Jack held up his fist as well, and they both brought their fists towards the camera.

"Bro tickle!" Felix yelled, undoing his fist and giving his fingers a little wiggle.

"Bro tickle?!" Jack asked, puzzled.

"Ya! A bro tickle! Ever done it before?" Felix asked.

"No." Jack replied. Felix created a fist, and waited for Jack to raise his fist as well. Then, they both glided their fists towards each other. When they joined, Felix undid his fist and started wiggling his fingers again. Jack imitated Felix's actions, and started a little finger-kitty fight against him.

That was, until Felix swiftly shoved his fingers into Jack's side to give it one last tickle.

"Hehehey! stop that!" Jack defended, shoving his hand into Felix's exposed armpit.

"BAHAHA! STAHAHAP!" Felix yelled, curling in on himself. Jack listened and stopped.

"Alright BYE!" Jack cheered to the camera on the table.

"Bye!" Felix said as well, before turning off the camera. "Alright. Now onto editing this thing..." Felix said outloud.

"Alright. Want me to help you? I kinda wanna watch it." Jack asked.

"Sure!" Felix replied.

In the end, both men now knew each other's tickle spots. They would both wind up using this information to their advantage. If one of them was cheating, the other would tickle them as punishment. If one of them was being a little shit for attention, the other would give them the attention: with tickles! Soon enough, it became a common occurrence for the both of them. They were never gonna be able to live their choices down...

#Ticklefic #ler!jack #lee!felix

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phoena12 · 6 years

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hey hey!

so i know i haven’t been all that active of late and i have a good reason for it!

please bear with me on this one as i haven't worked out alllll the details quite yet so its still a little rough about the edges haha

so!

the basis is, a boy confined by society and its expectations leads him to a shackled life, his only friend Tara to keep him company through his placid days. growing up he hears stories of knights and wizards. of dragons wreaking havoc and fairies blessing adventures bold. he wishes for such a life but unbeknown to him, a sacred being answers his calls and plunges him head first into a journey sure to change him and the world about him, forever.

again, this work is still in the works (heavily so) and this is as far as i’ve managed to get written down and posed into a chapter.

without further ado please enjoy!

The sky was vast and wide, clouds rolling across the never ending sea and trapped in its soothing waves. The sun let rays of golden light beam from its home in the sky, the heat a languid and sweltering experience all at once. Birds of bright colours flit to and fro across the open expanse, their feathers cutting through the sweeping breeze and their calls breaking through the forested sea below them. A small bird, coloured in pinks and grey with a bright blue crest, perches on a tree below, surveying the blanketed floor of leaves. Searching for prey. The forest is silent, emerald leaves shaking in the wind and sprinkling light on the ground below, a few of its glazed leaves floating downward as the wind rushes through in a hurry.

A lone deer, a stag, with antlers covered in moss and dangling vines, strolls through the glade of tree’s, searching for a place to graze. Its stride graceful and powerful as it touches each hoof delicately to the ground, the dangling vines about its antlers swaying with each step. It passes a patch of orange flowers, the oval petals folding in and then lurching out with a puff of smoke. The stag snorts and heads away from the moving plant, its fog falling to the ground and enveloping some unfortunate leaves. A hissing noise popping through the drag of birdsong and wind, the smoke dissipating and leaving a green and silver mush behind. The beast continues its passage, light licking at its brown hide as it enters a small copse, his ears pricked at the new surroundings.

A shallow stream gleaming silver in the sunlight, trickles by, unnoticed by the graceful stag, its sinuous course unknowing but prevalent. A toad hops from under it pebbled perch, a striking green putting the flourish of the forest to shame. The ripples of its slip in and out of the stream wakening insects into a flurried flight, their wings shimmering hues of browns and golds across the reflected water.

The stag, tall and wild but so noble in its being shimmies its distaste in the smaller creatures and gallops off into the brush, a bounce over the stream and his once sedate form is gone. A flurry of leaves dancing in his flight and settling on the heated earth. The world passes by in his run. Great tree’s a distant memory, the ground flowing beneath his feet as he picks up his pace.

Ah, too run free. How simple and real a feeling.

Birds flitting in their colours, the sounds a soothing melody. The crash of twigs and bush adding to the symphony, his breathe heavy in his lungs a thing to weigh him down. He opens himself as he crests a hill and looks at the landscape, the tree’s taking on a more winding pattern of their limbs. The sky heavenly above and smiling down at him.

This was living. Well, until a bird far too curious than it ought to be lands atop the dreamers head, one beady eye staring precariously into his. He turns in his sleep, the image of the stag falling apart from the seams and disappearing in a fog. How annoying, he was quite enjoying his little rendezvous with the beast. He wriggles on the bark, the curve he had crawled into and away from the summer heat ended up being a good place to nap but soon became uncomfortable for his back. Often he found himself doing so. It was a bad habit but no worse than stepping foot in the forest itself. These tree’s he adored most, though not as tall as the tree’s at the edge of the forest, they were closer to the apple tree’s he used to climb (and of course fall out of) in size. The main difference were that these trees were alive, well all of them were to be exact but some had an individual sense. A slight thrumming that spoke of life and being to his young senses. They also had a knack for twisting their limbs at precarious angles, which were great for sleeping in. except when they decided to move on their own accord and hence make you fall almost 4 feet to your death. Which was a horrifying situation to get yourself stuck in. one the boy didn’t really mind, in honesty. He rather felt that the tree’s liked his personage and did their twisty tricks to tease him. Of course that’s only the whimsy of a child.

Except being abruptly woken by a falcon had even less charm than a sub sentient tree letting you drop four or five feet to the ground.

He screams, who wouldn’t when a falcon was staring into your soul? Spooked by the noise the bird flies to higher ground, broad wings gusting wind at the half dazed boy. Hair ruffled as it usually is, he tries to pat it down, looking about his resting spot for the mischievous bird. She was ever naughty and often the boy thought she had more sense than his stablemates could ever possess. He shakes his unruly locks in her direction.

“Taraaaaa” he whines out, stretching his hands behind and shaking his head, “did you have to wake me?”

The bird, Tara, ruffles her feathers at his whinging tone and flattens her feathers down with a stroke of her yellowed beak. She looks down on him, almost seeming disgusted with his frivolous nature. He laughs when she shakes her head and looks away, clearly interested in nothing.

“But the sun is still high” he tries. She fluffs her wings, a small breeze shaking her branch but refuses to look at him. “I’ve got plenty of time to get back” he urges. The falcon is stubborn, as always and he mutters some half-hearted insult kicking his feet idly. “Pretty please?” he tries yet again and this time Tara chirps at him with a peeved tone, her wings flapping as if trying to make a point. She hops on her branch like a crow and continues her chirping, something she picked up from being housed with the messenger birds used at the keep. An odd habit for a bird of her stature.

“Fiiiine, im coming” the boy concedes picking his dust covered self from the floor and grabbing his satchel from the crook he previously occupied. It was always unwise to argue with Tara, she seemed more like the human ladies of Lord Treeks court, prim and proper and unwilling to lose any argument posed their way. The boy severely wishes he had not let the falcon fly free at so young an age.

Tara hops and swoops from her branch, seemingly exalted at the boy’s forthcomings and sudden sense. He laughs, Tara had always looked after him, as he had looked after her when she was just newly hatched and failing in this world. They had a bond, that much could be said.

She lands upon his narrow shoulders, almost toppling the both of them over, the weight of her body and sudden force of wind knocking him forward slightly and into the now twisting tree. With a simple flap of her wings, Tara calls out her glee and ascends through the treetops. He huffs, what ever was he going to do with that bird. With a grin and a pat to the rising branch, he bids farewell to the tree and trots off into the direction of the keep.

this is not the whole chapter i assure you, there is plenty more to come!

buuuuuuut if this is something you liked please let me know?? because id love to do updates for this and see your opinions on it.

#ch 1 #almost #WIP #original work #my work #please tell me what you think of this #i want to try and make this a thing people would love to read #also no idea what this chapter is called #i tried #forgive for the spelling errors i beg

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minijenn · 6 years

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All the World's a Stage

Darkness had completely enveloped Mabel Pines. The first thing that she noticed was the fact that she couldn’t see anything at all. She knew that the attic got dark at night, but the moonlight always made sure it wasn’t completely pitch black. Speaking of the attic, she was able to conclude that there was no way she was there right now. Instead of her warm bed, she was sprawled out on a cold, wooden floor. She noticed a small draft as she slowly got to her feet. She started walking in a random direction in hopes of figuring out where exactly she was. She only took a few steps before she noticed there was something around her ankle.

Before she could ask even further questions, a sharp, bright light assaulted her eyes. She had to shield her eyes from the intense light, but she could tell that it was coming from above. After her eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, she could finally gauge where she was now. The floor was definitely wood, and it seem to stretch on of miles on each side. She looked down to her leg and noticed that it was chained to the floor. She tried in vain to pull herself free from it, but the chain was unfortunately bolted to the ground.

Suddenly, more lights appeared above; all of them focusing on her. That was when she noticed what was in front of her. There appeared to be thousands of people sitting in front of her. She couldn’t make out any of their faces due to the darkness, but she could tell that they were all staring at her with white, piercing eyes. That was when she finally realized where she was. The lights above her weren’t just regular lights, they were spotlights.

Mabel was on a stage in front of thousands of people.

“W-what’s going on?! Did I eat too much sugar before bed again?! Oh man, Dipper’s never going to let me hear the end of this.” Mabel groaned. Before she could think further about her brother’s tedious lecturing, she heard something that made her blood run cold. It was a laugh, a laugh that she was all too familiar with. The last time she had heard this particular laugh, she had almost lost her brother.

Suddenly, with a bright flashing light, Bill Cipher appeared and floated gently down in front of Mabel, casually spinning his signature cane. “Well well well, how’s it been going Shooting Star? Sorry to say, but this isn’t one of your sugar high dreams. This is alllll me! Anyway, what do ya think of this place I cooked up for ya? Pretty great, right?” The dream demon then gestured to the surrounding stage and the silent audience.

Mabel took a few seconds to examine the surroundings before snapping back at the demon. “No, you stupid triangle! Why would you ever think I would ever like something like this?!” The demon simply gave the girl a rather smug look. “Well, I just thought it would remind you of that stupid puppet show you put on. You know, the show where you almost lost you brother and friends over a stupid crush?!” Mabel then immediately bowed her head at this. She was afraid that this was what this was about. She was hoping that this whole stage atmosphere was just a mere coincidence. However, it turned out to be a carefully planned set up by the dream demon to remind her of one of the worst screw ups of her life.

“What’s with the chain then?” Mabel gestured to said chain that was still clamped to her leg. Bill was quick to answer her. “Oh that? That’s what I would like to call ‘incentive’ for paying attention to what I have to say. If you decide to either stop listening to me or rudely interrupt me…” the demon then gave a quick snap of his fingers. Mabel then suddenly felt a sharp sting in her leg. The pain was so bad that she fell on to the ground and cradled her leg in hopes of relieving the pain. “You’ll get a nice little reminder of who’s in charge here! So, now with that out of the way, let’s get down to business!”

Mabel was still kneeled over on the ground, and could only glance up at the demon floating above her. “Why,” she said weakly. “Why are you doing thi-“ before she could finished, another volt of pain through her leg. The girl held on to her leg even tighter as Bill gave his reply. “Ah ah ah, no speaking unless you’re told to! Honestly Shooting Stars, you have the worst manners I’ve ever seen! You should really be thanking me for this!” The dream demon could only laugh as the girl beneath him let out a few whimpers of pain.

Bill then ceased his laughter and began what he had originally came here for. “So, I bet you wondering Shooting Star: Why the hell are you bothering me right now? Well I just thought I’d tell how much you ROYALLY PISSED ME OFF!” he said as Bill grew five times his sizes and changed his hue into a dark red color. Mabel could only cower away at this, then the demon returned to his regular appearance. “You have no idea what your little stunt at that puppet show did to me! You made me lose, not one, but TWO opportunities in one night. Wanna take a guess at what those were?!”

Mabel was barely able to think, let alone give a clear response to the demon. The constant shocks were making her weak, both physically and mentally. Her head was swimming and she could hardly give a response. However, she was finally able to mutter something, mostly out of fear of receiving another shock. “I-I don’t…Dipper….?”

The demon then used his cane to poke the girl in the forehead. “You got one of them right kid. I’ve possessed many meat sacks throughout the years, but Pine Trees was one of the greatest joyrides I’ve ever had! I could’ve easily fried his brain the second I was in there, but that wouldn’t have been any fun! I wanted to feel every bit a pain that would go through his feeble body! I wanna to enjoy the terrified look on Pine Tree’s face in the Mindscape as I mutilated his body! I was so excited to give that flesh sack one hell of a finale when YOU cut that short! You stopped my fun, and now you’re gonna pay for it!”

Mabel’s was eating her from the inside out. She was so focused on her stupid show, that she let her brother become possessed by this sadist triangle. Now she realized that she made the situation even worse by removing the demon, making him furious.

“And then there was the other opportunity I lost. Your current little boy crush, Rose Bud.” Mabel was slightly surprised by this. She wouldn’t have expected for Steven to be brought up in this. “See, while I was playing around in Pine Tree’s body, Rose Bud was super panicky about it. It was actually pretty hilarious looking back at it! He was so desperate, he would have done anything to stop me from ruining Pine Tree’s body any further! You wanna know what I would’ve wanted from him?”

Mabel couldn’t even fathom would horrible thing Bill would want from Steven, but the dream demon said it anyway. “HIS GEM YOU IDIOT! I’m working with some ‘associates’ that had some bad blood with Rose Bud’s mom. Quartzy wasn’t as perfect as you or those dumb Crystal Chums made her out to be. I could go into details, but I think I won’t spoil the surprise! Anyway, my associates don’t really care about Rose Bud, as much as they care about that Gem that’s in his gut. So, I was going make him TEAR that thing out of his gut and hand it over to me! He would have totally died from that and everyone would’ve thought that it was some desperate suicide, it would have been hilarious!” The demon couldn’t help himself from laugh, but he then switched to a much more serious tone. “But then you had to that as well! If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve had Rose Bud’s bloody gem in my hand!”

Mabel was beginning to feel sick from all this. The image of Steven’s lifeless body in front of Bipper, holding his gem I his bloody hand was burned into her head. The girl couldn’t take this torture anymore. She desperately tried to stand back in order to a tleast try and escape this nightmare. Unfortunately, Bill took notice to this and decided to give Mabel another shock, toppling the girl to the ground again. “Hey, who said you could stand? Come on Shooting Star, you be considerate of your audience. They’re just eating up your suffering!” Bill gestured towards the dark audience, who were still staring blankly at the girl. Mabel assumed that this was some kind of irony. She always did want to be the center of attention, and here she was, being stared at by thousands on white eyes.

“So in short Shooting Star, you took away a vessel and a gem that was rightfully mine. So, you know what I’m gonna do? I’m going to TAKE THEM BACK!” The demon stared directly into the girl’s terrified gaze. “The thing you humans is that you take everything you have for granted and the second they’re taken away from you, you freak out and get depressed! So that’s what I’m gonna do Shooting Star! I’m gonna take away your brother and the closest friend you’ll ever have away from you! I’ll finally get what I deserve and you’ll be left all alone in this universe, it’s a win-win!”

For a moment, Mabel could only stare at the demon and process what had been told to her. Bill was threating to take away her twin brother and her best friend. Ever since they were little, Dipper and Mabel made a promise that no matter what life threw at them, they would always stick together. She couldn’t imagine a future where it seemed like he was gone forever. She wouldn’t what to do if her brother just disappeared from her life. And then there was the ever-growing friendship that Mabel had shared with Steven. Despite only knowing each other for about three months, Steven had become one of the closest friends Mabel had ever made. That had experienced so much together, from the countless Gem missions they went on together, to the amazing experience that was Maven. The thought of him being violently ripped away from her made her insides feel twisted.

“N-no, please don’t,” the girl muttered weakly. She couldn’t tell if it was because of the agonizing pain or the toxic guilt inside of her, but she was about ready to do anything to protect the two most precious people in her life. “Just-just take me instead. I’m the one that deserves this. Just don’t hurt Dipper or Steven.”

The dream demon put on an inquisitive look and stared at the girl. “Hmmm, that’s a pretty tempting offer Shooting Star.” The triangle mused. Mabel’s eyes were starting to appear hopeful before they were tightly shut from the excessive pain that shot through her body. Only this time, the pain didn’t stop after a short period, but instead lingered on for what she thought was eternity. “But I’m going to have to pass up on it due to how USELESS you are to me. Pine Tree and Rose Bud are the ones one with any inherent value, so no dice! Besides, I’d rather watch your life go flushing down the drain as you try to function without those two. Face reality Shooting Star, you can’t live without those two. You’re so pathetic, it’s actually kinda funny!”

Mabel was barely able to hear Bill, since her own screams were drowning him out. Bill looked rather satisfied over this and decided to begin to take his leave. “Well, I’d better get going, Shooting Star. Just remember, there’s nothing you can do to stop me from ending those two brats! Might want to try and spend all the remain time you got with those two. Until then, I’LL KEEP IN TOUCH!”

The demon then blinked out of existence, leaving Mabel behind with her screams of pain.

Mabel woke up screaming with tears staining her cheeks. She finally calmed down enough to assess where was now. She was back in the attic again, the soft moonlight illuminating the wooden floor. She was also back in bed, and was rather thankful to see that those chains and shocks didn’t leave any physical marks on her leg. However, while she may have been fine physically, she was far from okay emotionally. Memories of Bill’s venomous tone and threats were still fresh in her mind. Her train of thought was cut off as she looked over to the bed on the other side.

“Dipper!” she cried out. The girl looked over to Dipper’s bed, only to see that it was vacant. At first, the girl began to panic, but she then remembered that Dipper had told her that Lapis was feeling rather on-edge, so he decided to spend the night with her. Still, that did little to help alleviate the knots in her stomach. While she could go into “Sweatertown” since she was in her sleep wear, it didn’t stop her from curling up to hug her legs. A quick check of her phone shown it was probably too late to call either Dipper or Steven, despite desperately wanting to.

“Bill’s wrong,” she thought to herself. “I can stop him from hurting Dipper and Steven! All I have to do is….is….” Mabel sighed as she fell back onto her pillow again. Who was she kidding, what could she do to stop Bill? He was right, she was pathetic. Without Dipper’s quick wit and Steven’s unending determination, she was hopeless. With nothing else left to do, Mabel tried to go back to sleep. She would no doubt have to have a conversation with Dipper and Steven, but she would deal with that later.

For now, she had to figure out how to tell Dipper and Steven how worthless she was without them.

#universe falls #sumbission #submission #AUGAUSGDUAGSDAHSGDHASGDJASHD DAMMIT BLAZER #THIS ONE FUCKING HURT A LOT #MOSTLY BECAUSE IM REMINDED OF JUST HOW HARD OF A TIME MABEL IS GONNA HAVE IN R/D/M #LIKE FOR REALS TO HAVE THOSE TWO POSSIBLY RIPPED AWAY FROM HER?????#IT COULD LEGIT MAYBE END UP BREAKING HER #IT HURTS #DAMN BILL IS A FUCKING ASSHOLE WHO KNOWS HOW TO HIT ALL OF THE WORST SPOTS #i seriously can't wait for your next one of these imo #excellent work!#uf fan fics #blazer's oneshots

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tbeofficial-blog · 7 years

Photo

LOCATION : LUCKY FOOT THEATER.

TIME : 12 PM.

PROLOGUE ENDING : THE EXPERIMENT BEGINS.

Looks like this is the designated meeting spot, even though you still have no clue what lies beyond the curtain on stage, save perhaps the man in charge of all this, ready to deliver whatever it is he’d promised all of you -- incentive to murder? It still reeks of blood and there are piece of gore along the theater’s walkway, as if the victim’s body was dragged after all of you left last time, but there are no doubt a number of you eager to not put too much thought into what happened with Orion’s body. On stage, the same Sentinels stand guard, watching over all of you with unblinking eyes. If you look close enough, you can see blood on their clothes.

It doesn’t take as long for Kuma to make his appearance this time, nor does he seem to have any firearms in his hands when he steps out. He simply slips the curtain open and takes the stage -- no announcement, no fanfare. Just him, his lighter, and the casual lighting of a cigarette. He stands on the stage quietly as opposed to trying to get anyone’s attention, although there are already a number of you turned towards the stage, waiting to see what he has to say. Noticeably, a few of you have opted to avoid the front rows... it’s not a decision anyone can blame you for, is it?

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEY HARE!!” Ultimately, it’s Zero’s voice that suddenly bursts over the speakers as his image pops up on the screens above the stage without warning -- he’s loud, obnoxious, and as energetic as ever. It takes barely half a second for him to begin bouncing around on stage, arms waving. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOH BOY!! Finally, we’re HARE! You all know what this is, right? The beginning of the experiment!! You didn’t think it was already underway, didya? Of COURSE you didn’t! Hahhahahahahaha, don’t worry, we’ll HOP to the point -- you all are probably juuuuust as eager as we HARE, so not point wasting time, right, Kuma Kuma? Why don’t we just tell ‘em straight up --

THE FIRST MURD-HARE INCENTIVE!! EHEHEHAHAHAHAH!!”

“Shut up. Your voice is grating.” Finally, the Supervisor speaks, voice picked up by the same mic he wore the previous time. He stops only to blow smoke from between his lips, shooing Zero away in a gesture that only made the AI rabbit silently point. “But he is not wrong. From henceforth, we can consider this experiment underway. I asked you all to meet me here in order for us to begin -- from now on, get used to this ritual. We will meet every Sunday, here at the theater, at noon. This time it is in order for me to give you a motive to commit murder ; as, once again, I am sure you know by now what this experiment entails. If you still have not read your tablets, I honestly cannot help you and I am sure your low intelligence will make you among the first to die.”

It’s a hard objective to forget, isn’t it? He gives you an incentive to murder, ideally one or more of you take action and kill someone for it, and an investigation and trial follow afterwards. If no murder occurs, you all vote for someone in the group to be executed simply because someone MUST die, and majority vote wins. The ultimate goal -- find and eliminate three “butterflies” hidden among you, despite the mind-numbingly awful odds stacked against you. It’s ridiculous, but there’s nothing any of you can do about it. As awful as it is, all you can do is stand here and listen.

Kuma gestures to the Sentinels and as he does so, they begin to move off the stage, spreading themselves out around the crowd. Now they’re a little too close for comfort, all watching you more closely than they were before. Even on the upper floors, they seem to come out of the wood works specifically just to stare you down. How unsettling...

“Zero, you start. And if I hear one rabbit pun during your reveal, I will replace you with a bear.”

“...!! Hmph! Fine. You want to start it short and simple, right? Nothing too flashy yet... We’re gonna ease you all into this, so we’ve decided to go EASY on you for this first week! Hahaha, nothing too... dramatic... you see? After all, you gotta learn to PLAY the game before things start going hare-wire ( sorry, Kuma Kuma, it slipped out! ) and it looks like we may be getting a few unexpected visitors to spook you on our behalf, anyways... THE SHORT OF IT IS, one of you has got to DIE-DIE!! The incentive? Hahahaha, IRONICALLY, death!”

Death seems to be a common theme around this place : just short of butterflies, it’s the word you all keep hearing. What the hell are they going to do? Shoot someone else?

“Yes... If you all will take a look at your bracelets, you will notice a new timer has popped up below your assigned number, effective... now.” The Sentinels suddenly step forward, closer to all of you, and their eyes seem to focus on those closest to them. Though the movement is startling, it doesn’t distract from Kuma’s words -- below all of your numbers, a time counting down from 8640 MINUTES has begun to tick. “When that timer reaches zero in six days’ time, all of you will be injected via one of the needles hidden in your bracelets. Half of you will receive an injection of a simple medication that will put you to sleep for a few hours -- the other half, however, will be injected with poison.”

“Hohohohohoh!! You didn’t think we’d just let you have safety in NUMBERS, right? I said it BEFORE, but we can stand to lose, I’unno... about a hundred of you... at least. So HARE’S the dealio, buns and gents! Those of you who are in PAIRS have ONE person with a sleeping agent and ANOTHER with poison! If you’re one of the unlucky hoppies to be here with your friend, unless someone commits murder, ONE of you is TOOOOOOOOOTALLY gonna CROAK IT when the countdown reaches its end! ‘But Zero! What about those of us who are alone!? We want in on the game!’ Don’t you worry, bun buns, ‘cause about HALF of those of you who are here alone ALSO have poison in your bracelets! It’s just a game of chance, hahahah! Sooooo just to clarify for all the slow jos out there, one person in each pairing will die! Several of you who are singles will die! Poison alllll around, hahahah!”

“Of course, as long as someone is killed by this Saturday night, Zero will shut down the timer on all of your watches, saving the lives of everyone who would have been poisoned otherwise. In return, at least only one person has to die. It is not so awful a trade, is it?” He pauses to knock the ash from his cigarette. “In the event none of you decide to kill anyone, our numbers will be thinned and the experiment more focused. If you do, the experiment truly begins. It is a fitting way to start, yes? I do not think this is a particularly dramatic or difficult motive. Ah, but that is the thing... it seems there are some... issues with the simulation that have popped up unexpectedly. While the motive this week starting us off is not as particularly as exciting as Zero would have liked it, we do have some... unfortunate... interferences that may make things more... Mm. Well. You will figure that out on your own.”

Unfortunate interferences? He said this town was a simulation. There’s no limit to what that could mean for you, but... what could be worse than the threat of death?

“I did promise to address those bracelets and their functions to all of you next time we met, but I think it is best we leave it at that... Besides, they will be utilized in the investigations. Not to get ahead of ourselves, right?” There’s humor somewhere in his voice, like he’s mocking all of you -- not that it would be surprising if he were. The curl of his lips make it even clearer, but... Then he turns and leaves the stage without another word and compared to the last meeting it almost feels... anticlimatic? No, not even that. Something in the way he held himself just then, smugness aside... he seemed eager to get out of here, almost nervous even. Why? Even Zero disappears from the monitor without a last laugh or pun -- isn’t it weird for him to be quiet?

...

Then you hear a loud metal SCREECH and something akin to a CRASH

from outside the theater and you can’t help but think maybe being given this “incentive to murder” which has put all of your lives on the line collectively, as a group, somehow classifies as the calm before the storm... All of the Sentinels around you bring to life and, without warning, begin to grab you and forcibly push you out of the building, claws DIGGING in the shoulders of those of you not lucky enough to catch on and make a break for it before they have a chance of grabbing you --

When you step out into the Quarantine Zone, all the rain falling from the sky has mixed with ASH.

The Sentinels run past you, hurriedly making their way, collectively alongside the employees, to the burning METRO STATION not far from the theater. Flames lick the sky and a gaggle of shadowed creatures in clown-like rabbit masks seem to move around the light before disappearing into the bulk of the fire... There’s BLOOD covering the streets, corpses of people you don’t recognize -- faceless figures with bloodied fingers and missing limbs. Some are torsos, dragging themselves across the pavement, others cry and wail and moan as piece of their bodies melt in the fire -- the youngest of them call out for parents as something unseen rip them open and drag them down the metro’s stairs -------------

Wait... wait, something’s... not right...

A second passes, the vision fades and there’s no fire there at all... No ash, no clowns, no dying... Someone’s looking at you, concerned, wondering if they should offer a hand. Had the Sentinels pushing you out of the theater spooked you a little too much? There’s a few of them standing around the Metro Station, yet there’s no fire... When you ask about it aloud, a few people around you seem to know what you’re talking about -- but others just stare at the rest of you -- they say that you’ve just been standing there for a few seconds, completely spaced out. There wasn’t a fire, there were no clowns. All of you were just kicked out of the theater, that’s all. But you saw that just now, didn’t you?

A wave of vertigo overruns quite a few of you, some of you even feel close to fainting -- or vomiting... Maybe it’s just the ash in the air... but you think you might be hearing someone or... something... whispering to you... Yes, that’s right... the lighter your head feels...

There’s someone whispering to you... What are they saying...?

Almost as soon as you think that ---------- THAT’S WHEN THE SIRENS START, and with them comes the thunder & lightning.

Now all of you -- all of you can hear that.

EVENT COMPLETED: PROLOGUE: ACQUITTAL WON OMEN ‘ERE.

CURRENT OBJECTIVE: COMMIT A MURDER.

… YOUR TABLETS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!

RED HAREING STATION -- A new location has opened up on the map! The underground train station previously guarded by Sentinels appears to have been forced open... In fact, the two Sentinels that were standing outside guarding it look like they’ve been ripped to shreds. If one looks closely, there appears to be blood staining the metal and a few teeth caught in the wires... Both their heads have been removed and apparently drug down to the station below, judging by the mechanical innards that trail down that way. The doors previously closed at the bottom appear to have been ripped open by something with large claws and the train on the left side has been ripped from its track and crushed. Yikes! Well, this place wasn’t supposed to be open yet, anyways, so it doesn’t really matter... None of the trains are running yet. You’re free to visit from now on, but it sounds like something -- or, rather, a lot of somethings -- might be running around in the dark... Did you see something in the corner of your eye just now?

DETAILS.

THE FIRST MURDER INCENTIVE: Cutting the numbers. Someone must die, or a mass execution will take place that will slice the cast in half. Each of your bracelets either has an extra needle containing more poison, or a sleeping serum. When the countdown runs out on Saturday, you will be injected. Those of you who fall asleep will continue on in the experiment. Those of you with poison will die. One member of each pairing has poison, the other has the sleep serum. Half of those of you on your own also have poison. Kill someone or don’t.

Either way, you’re facing the consequences.

CHAPTER ONE : BUTCHERS RIB, I ACT BEGIN !

OOC NOTES.

The crash / metallic screech was not a hallucination. Everyone heard that.

It is up to you whether your muses experienced the fire hallucination or not. They can be in the half of the group that did, or the half that didn’t.

If they did, they can now hear voices whispering to them on & off, but they can’t make out what they’re saying. It’s muffled...

If your muses did NOT see the fire hallucination, they are now acutely aware that something appears to be following all of you in the dark. Always in the corner of your eyes, but never out in the open. No matter what you do, you can’t see them properly.

The metro may now be entered, but the trains do not operate.

The Sirens (reference youtube link) are now CONSTANT. They do not stop. They will be going off NONSTOP for the next SIX DAYS. Along with constant, LOUD thunder & violent strikes of lightning in addition to the rain.

#v: tbflye #chapter one: butchers rib i act #event #FINALLY #EKJHRGBNJEHRBGJHERBGJHB #I'M NOT 100% HAPPY W THIS BUT I GIVE UP HERE TAKE IT

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wordcreatr · 5 years

Text

Like a lot of people, I’m never satisfied with my weight. Whether I’m gaining it or losing it, I never end up completely satisfied with the result. I think that dissatisfaction stems from the fact that I don’t magically transform into some young, good-looking buff dude.

As many of you know, I went to the UK in May to attend my cousin Liam’s wedding. Months before I left, I decided I didn’t want a repeat of my last visit — this time I would show up in somewhat reasonable shape. Okay, that’s kind of a misstatement because I don’t work out at all, so “in shape” is a wistful dream rather than a goal. While showing up sculpted like Chris Hemsworth would have been ideal, showing up and not looking like 190 pounds (86 kg) of chewed bubblegum seemed slightly more attainable.

Thar She Blows!

Last time I went to the UK in 2017 to kick off The Year of Sean, I arrived in Blighty the heaviest I’d ever been. (A slowing metabolism, no willpower, and two years of working in a corporate office with a serious snacking culture will do that to a person.) While in the UK, I didn’t help matters by pigging out like a hunter-gatherer trying to build up a layer of fat for the lean times. I eventually tipped the scales at a somewhat portly 196 pounds, well above my ideal fighting weight. (This might not seem like a lot, but remember, I was the kid nicknamed Stick Man. And while I did go on numerous 5-mile walks in the English countryside during my month-long stay, I also ate and drank everything in sight. I’d like to say it was a wash, but it wasn’t.

My face was looking a wee bit round in 2017.

Slimming Down

After I returned home to the States in 2017, my weight gain bummed me out, but I did nothing about it. Until one day, as I was minding my own business, the Houseguest observed I looked pregnant. (By the way, God help me if I ever made the same comment to her — just saying). Now, it’s one thing to think you’re fat but a whole different ballgame to have someone confirm it for you. I’d seen the photographic evidence from my vacation snaps, but that was easy to rationalize: “Oh, it’s a bad angle” or “I’m just not photogenic.” But the sad truth was I was overweight (and unphotogenic).

So, in a rare moment of determination, I lost weight and ended up dropping 27 lbs in a couple of months. It happened so fast, it surprised some people. So, what was my secret?

So if I join, I get my ideal weight and unlimited power, right? I don’t have to do anything weird, do I?

Still waiting on the unlimited power.

No, no, I didn’t actually join a cult or make a deal with the devil (believe it or not, I was a groomsman in a Halloween wedding).

To lose weight, I just had to get motivated. And my top motivator was never hearing the Houseguest refer to me as being-with-child again. I also relied on intermittent fasting (or laziness-induced starvation as it’s more accurately known). Working from home as a freelancer and part-time Uber driver, I just didn’t eat often during the day. Also, my income fluctuated wildly, so I cut expenses by eliminating fast food. And though I like to socialize, I also avoided going out to dinner with my friends because they like to eat out. A lot.

Another change was to follow the Houseguest’s dietary suggestions (more protein and fiber; fewer carbs). Veggies are cheap, so I made a lot of salads and threw cheese and pepperoni on them and had the occasional naan bread. Instead of cookies and potato chips, I snacked on crackers, cheese, pepperoni, and apples. I substituted a spoonful of peanut butter drizzled with honey for sweet stuff. Oh, and I became a reluctant walker in the desert evenings. What can I say? It all worked and I quickly dropped to 169 lbs (76.6 kg), which turned out to be a bit too thin. Getting skinny when you get older just makes you look gaunt.

Maintaining my weight gets harder

During the year after I slimmed down, my weight fluctuated by a few pounds but remained fairly stable around 175 lbs.

When I abandoned freelancing and joined an agency, I faced the common hurdles of an office environment like Bagle Monday; Donut Thursday; free pizza; copious snacks. The caloric assault was nonstop and my weight started to creep up.

When I got the invite to my cousin Liam’s wedding, I was up to 181 lbs. Originally, I wanted to defy time by losing weight and getting in shape so I looked younger. Instead, I compromised with myself and settled on a more attainable goal — fitting into my wedding clothes without the button on my pants screaming for help as it held on for dear life.

Trying to go on a diet; Houston, we have a problem

So, I did all right maintaining my weight — until about a month before my departure when my efforts started to go off the rails. It’s ridiculous, I know; I was almost to the finish line. I have no excuse other than moderation and willpower are alien concepts I am unable to truly embrace.

A delicious calorie bomb at the Cornish Pasty, one of our group’s go-to places.

The slip-ups kept piling up. Going out for too many high-calorie dinners with my buddies or going out for lunch at work and ignoring the sensible salad I’d brought from home. Even worse, the special events started to pile up as invitations came in for BBQs and birthday parties and celebrations with family friends, etc, etc. And despite my conviction to show restraint, every one of them turned into a gluttonous Roman feast where I gorged myself — the only thing missing was a slave feeding me bonbons while I reclined on a couch.

Eating like a big leaguer

The low point in my gluttony occurred when Fox Sports Arizona invited our agency to watch a Diamondbacks’s game in a corporate suite with an all-you-can-eat buffet spread. In an effort to avoid traffic (which turned out to be nonexistent), I arrived forty minutes before everyone else. With time to kill and no witnesses to bolster my accountability, I attacked the unattended buffet of unhealthy ballpark food with all the gusto of a vampire on the loose at a hemophiliac convention.

Mine! It’s alllll minnnnnne!

After everyone else arrived, I played it cool and pretended I hadn’t eaten, then gobbled my way through seconds and thirds, drank beer, had some (several) dessert(s) and topped it all off with a healthy serving of self-loathing. I spent the rest of the game making small talk and feeling uncomfortable because I’d eaten too much.

The closer my departure date got, the more demoralized I became. It reached a point where I was afraid to get on my scale. It had become an unwelcome prophet of doom, reading out its digital prediction that my fatass wasn’t going to fit into my wedding attire. Then I had a moment of panic when right before I departed, I discovered that a ravenous moth had infiltrated my closet and eaten holes into my backup plan — a pair of out-of-fashion trousers with cuffs and an expandable waistline (basically, a dressier version of fat pants). Shit.

I’m a weak, weak man

No, I didn’t eat them all — just the big one.

During my month of pre-vacation weakness, one thing I kept craving was a Dairy Queen Blizzard. For my international readers, a Blizzard is a type of tasty soft ice cream treat that is available with multiple ingredients and is roughly about a million calories. Against all odds, I managed to avoid giving in — for a while. Numerous times, I was about to head over to DQ when I’d miraculously regain self-control. Then about a week before my flight, I finally succumbed. My thinking went along the lines of ‘What if the plane crashes? Skipping that Blizzard won’t have mattered.’ I couldn’t beat that logic.

As I drove over to DQ, I told myself I’d only get a mini Blizzard or maybe a small one; definitely not a medium. But I’d been denying myself so long, I caved while ordering at the drive-thru and got the largest Blizzard that DQ offered. On the way home, I told myself I’d only eat part of it and then finish the rest up over the next two days. But after eating a sensible amount, that delicious, icy siren kept calling me back to the fridge for another spoonful. Forty minutes later, I had vanquished the Blizzard. That was 1400+ calories on top of everything else I had eaten that day. My lack of control left me ashamed. (But that Blizzard was so worth it.)

The league of chubby fellows

By the time I arrived in England, I weighed six pounds heavier than I wanted to be. Luckily, I still fit into my wedding clothes (barely) but I didn’t have much wiggle room left in my waistband. Problem was, I had six days to get through until the wedding. The last two visits I stayed with my Aunt Bernadette, where healthy eating and portion control are the norm, which counterbalanced all the excess I experienced hanging out with my cousins, the Dillons. This time, however, I would be staying at 22 Kings Lane (Dillon Central) where food is abundant and self-control is in short supply. I knew I was in trouble.

22 Kings Lane

Now, my uncle, Daddy Bernard, eats sensibly. However, his five sons can put the food and beer away. However, some of them still play sports weekly to maintain their physiques. Only my cousin Bernie (aka Little Bernard, Young Bernard or Big Bern) lives at 22 Kings Lane, but the rest would be around regularly to see me. Bernie moved in temporarily after surgery for a badly broken leg and hasn’t left yet. He can eat with the best of them and is also a connoisseur of lagers. Always a solidly built fellow, he used to play rugby, but isn’t quite as active after the broken leg and has put on a few stone.

Brief aside: I don’t know why the Brits still use stone to denote weight — seems even more quaint than Americans using pounds. For those of you unfamiliar with this unit of weight, a stone is 14 pounds. Any time someone mentions their weight in stone, smoke starts coming out of my ears as I try to do the conversion in my head. Okay, back to our regularly scheduled post.

I had one week to go before the wedding. Basically, I was screwed.

Let the contest of wills begin!

Sure enough, the first day there, Bernie, Daddy Bernard, and I ate out at a rock and roll pub owned by this guy named Mick. (Mick may or may not be a gangster; he is the only British guy I know who’s been shot). The Turkish cook made me a giant chicken burrito. (Yes, as an Arizonan, I felt compelled to try it and it was good but different.) And when I say a giant chicken burrito, I’m not joking. It was a brick that would not have been out of place at Chipotle.

Next morning, I went downstairs and Bernie had made sausage sandwiches, and I scarfed down at least three days worth of saturated fat. Then Daddy Bernard and I stopped at McDonald’s at lunch. That night, Bernie cooked up a large pot of chicken thighs. He gave me a bowl piled high with chicken, far more than I needed, but I figured I’d be polite and eat some of it. Holy Mother of God, it was delicious! So succulent and flavorful. (My mouth is watering as I type this). Bernie asked me if I wanted more. No! I mean hell yeah, I wanted more. Then we polished off a few cans of beer. At least the lingering aroma of savory chicken covered up the burning smell of my diet plan spiraling down in flames.

However, I did have to start declining the massive breakfasts and began eating Daddy Bernard’s Shredded Wheat. (So hard to turn down bacon sandwiches.)

Shredded Wheat — Depression in physical form

Hungry in Scotland

On the Wednesday before the wedding, I rode up to Scotland with Bernie in his work van. He had to deliver some building materials and thought I’d like to come along for the scenic drive. After he made his deliveries, we headed to Glasgow to spend the night. Bernie told me we’d go for a couple of pints and then eat at the World Buffet. The idea of a buffet alarmed me, but he had his heart set on it — he’d even had the company book rooms at a Travel Lodge right by it. The plan was to arrive in about an hour.

Big Bern behind the wheel on our way to the best buffet in Scotland.

Suddenly, he spotted a grocery store and pulled in.

“I’m getting a chicken to eat,” said Bernie. “You want something?”

“I thought we’re eating in Glasgow?”

“When you eat like I do, I’ll collapse before then.”

Starving, I abstained from buying anything. Bernie bought a whole rotisserie-style chicken. He told me he was going to only eat the drum sticks and would eat the rest tomorrow with some wraps. That poor chicken didn’t stand a chance as he devoured it in the van.

Eventually, we made it to the pub, drank a couple of pints while Bernie had a conversation with an incomprehensible old Glaswegian, and then we feasted like kings at the World Buffet.

The Final Countdown

Back in England, my battle against calories continued. My sister, Bridget, showed up from Florida. Surprised, I noticed she looked heavier than usual. She mentioned that she too had put on weight. Hurricane Michael had blown down all the old, majestic trees in her town. There was no shade for her to run in now only blazing sunlight. She mentioned she wanted to lose some weight. I suggested we could try to be good influences on each other while in the UK.

“Screw that. I’m on vacation,” Bridget said as she ordered ice cream. Clearly, I was going to have to be my own moral support.

The day of the wedding, thank God I still fit into my clothes (barely!) without popping a button. After the ceremony, the attendees enjoyed a veritable feast at a swanky place called Crabwall Manor (someone gave me an extra slice of cheesecake and I ate it). Then they had another buffet dinner a couple hours later for those not invited to the service and reception. (Naturally, the Dillons and I were first in line). And then they served wedding cake. (Yes, yes, I ate that too.)

How I wanted to look…

…the sad reality

Winding down

So, once the wedding was over and there was no need to watch what I ate, I still tried to keep things in check, with mixed results. We ate out and celebrated a lot. Going out for Indian, lunching at a tapas restaurant, having a rich dinner at my cousin Matthew’s. (His partner, Véronique, is French, a people not known for cooking light — it was delicious.)

Another Dillon getting stuck into his grub (Raphael and his mum Véronique)

My lovely sis, Bridget

Eating tapas with my cousin Martin

The night before I left for home, I went and stayed in Manchester with my cousin Martin’s family. He had to work late and we got our wires crossed. I didn’t eat before I arrived thinking he and I were going out to grab food, but he’d eaten when he arrived, so we walked down to a kebab place. That late at night, I thought I should just skip it, but again my willpower failed me. So I ordered the small kebab. (The Brits have adopted American sized portions; you see a lot more overweight people these days.)

Yes, this is the “small” one.

Next steps

Back in Arizona, I wasn’t making any headway on the weight loss. Then I walked to lunch with three of the guys from the office and on the way back someone mentioned something about Christmas and out of the blue, my coworker Cbass says to me, “You know you could play Santa.”

WTF?

I gave him a few choice words and he tried to explain it was because of my friendly face and whitish beard, not because I’m a fat ass.

So I sat around for a few hours thinking bad thoughts about Cbass until I eventually decided I had to make a real effort.

Cbass hangs his head in shame. He knows he did wrong.

Okay, maybe Cbass has a point. (Plus, no more scruffy beards for me).

Anyway, I’m back to intermittent fasting and I’ve lost three pounds this week (no fast food, no snacks in the house, no eating out, etc). And the Houseguest has volunteered to put me through a modified boot camp workout she does with a friend (I’m not so sure about that, but we’ll see).

Anyway, check back and see how I fare.

Trying to Go On a Diet Like a lot of people, I'm never satisfied with my weight. Whether I'm gaining it or losing it, I never end up completely satisfied with the result.

#eating #traveling #UK

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endlessarchite · 7 years

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The Pine Floors At The Beach House Are Refinished – AND IT CHANGES EVERYTHING!!!

You might think I’m being dramatic. Me? Dramatic? Yes. But in this case, no. Our freshly refinished heart pine floors are complete game changers in the house-feeling-more-finished column. FO SHO. I mean, look at this shot of the kitchen that we snapped when we were there this past Saturday checking them out / doing alllll the drooling:

Just as a reminder, here’s what that room looked like a few months ago, right after drywall went up:

And let’s take it waaaay back for a second. Here’s what this room looked like when we bought the house last October. In the words of Pepe Le Pew: “Le Yikes.”

So this visit was full of bulging eyes and guttural screams and shuffling around with socks on our feet so we didn’t damage the freshly sealed floors. In fact, I shuffled around with my iPhone in hand and shot an updated tour for you. I’m sharing a ton of info in the video, so don’t skip it if you want all the details – from our thoughts about choosing the gray trim downstairs to what’s next on our to-do list and one STUPID mistake we made in the bathroom. Note: if you’re reading this post from a feed reader, you may have to click through to the post to view the video:

In addition to needing to refinish all the pine flooring that was already here, there were lots of repairs that we needed – not to mention fully missing sections that we wanted pieced in to look perfectly flush, like they had always been there (you can see one of those person-sized holes in the picture above the video). So this was a job we were happy to hand over to the pros. We hired ShenValley Floors for anyone in the area who’s wondering, and they did an awesome job patching in everything so it looks original. They even found reclaimed pine from another old home that was being demo’d and used it in here. This was one of the areas they patched before everything got sanded and sealed:

And right after everything was sanded we learned something interesting about pine flooring. Apparently, even if you sand and sand all the way through pine, discolorations from sun or rugs can’t be removed. In oak, you just sand them enough and it’s all gone. But in pine, these things go all the way through the wood! It surprised us at first, but we’re embracing the imperfections of this 100-year-old floor. Plus it’ll become far less noticeable once furniture, rugs, and cabinets go in.

Some people on Instagram have asked what stain color we used, but we actually didn’t use one at all! We just went with a “satin” water based clear coat after everything got patched and sanded down (well, actually five clear coats – which should add up to a ton of durability). So this is just the natural color of the wood coming through, and the reason we went with a water based coat is because our flooring guys said it’s awesome (way less stinkier and just as durable and beautiful thanks to formulas coming a long way in the last five years or so).

We like choosing “satin” over “high gloss” for wood flooring because it’s still shiny when the light hits it, but not super wet looking if that makes sense. We could’ve tried to hide the color variations a bit more by staining them darker, but we agreed with the pro that we loved the natural look of pine, so that’s why we didn’t stain ours. And really guys. It’s GORGEOUS in person. Like video/pics don’t even fully capture it – especially my iPhone on a partly cloudy day.

Speaking of the natural color of things – we rescued the old doors from upstairs too! They’re heart pine just like the floors, but you may recall that they were looking a little darker and heavier than we had hoped. They were all covered in some old stain/wax combo that wasn’t looking so fresh and so clean clean anymore (they were all pretty dark… and oddly sticky).

We debated painting them white or soft gray or a deeper gray-brown or even a soft blue-green (we ticked through allll the options), but we finally landed on getting them professionally stripped and waxed/sealed so they’d basically be brought back to their original glory. And they look SO GOOD! Now they can shine right along with the freshly redone heart pine floors.

We used a place across the bay in Virginia Beach called The Strip Joint, which I helpfully linked here so you don’t have to type that into your Google search bar ;) – and they did an amazing job! We took them off their hinges a few weeks ago, and they drove out and picked all of them up, stripped and sealed them in their shop, and returned them to us last week (they even cleaned and restored all the knobs, which we can’t wait to put back on). We’re driving back out to hang them all – along with the bathroom mirrors! – sometime this week, so we’ll share more photos asap.

But back to the floors. This view is another one that KILLS ME. It’s SO AMAZING to me how much this angle has changed.

As a reminder, this is what it looked like when we bought the house. The ceiling was literally crumbling and the floors had been painted a dark maroon color up here, so we had actually never laid eyes on the wood!

Here’s yet another new favorite angle: the upstairs hallway we added! Remember two of the upstairs rooms used to be railroad-style, without a central hall or a second bathroom – so this hallway was a huge functional improvement. And with the freshly redone floors it’s a beautiful one too!

Here’s the same view during framing. Memories. See how dull and gray the floors were before?! It’s so crazy to me how much of a difference this one update made (probably only rivaled by getting all new siding outside when we took this house from a dusty green-gray color to pink).

Here’s the middle bedroom, all ready for a bed. There’s another spot where there must’ve been a rug or a bed on the floor that made it slightly darker in the middle, but once we add a rug and a bed it’ll all be hidden again. Also, because every time we share a pic of these fans, people ask us for the info, we’ve included a mood board of all the light fixtures at the bottom of this post for ya.

And here we have the back bedroom. The pocket doors were really cool and chippy and we tried to clear seal them that way (to preserve that aged look) but they just kept flaking off every time we slid them in and out, so it wasn’t functional and was pretty messy and dusty… so they ended up getting fully scraped, primed, and painted. We chose the same color that we painted the tub (Riverway by Sherwin-Williams). They look kinda dark here since this is just an iPhone pic, but in real life they’re the exact same color as the tub, and it’s a really nice splash of boldness in the back of the house.

And as promised, here’s all the lighting (and fans!) and even the vinyl house numbers we ordered for the transom window above the front door to create that painted on look. We even included our new favorite LED light bulbs because they’re CLEAR and have that cool exposed filament look, like an Edison bulb. Which means they’re great for exposed bulb fixtures yet they’re not too yellow and not too blue (because podcast listeners know John’s a light temperature diva).

1. Front Porch / 2. Downstairs Bath / 3. Kitchen Island / 4. Porch Numbers 5. Foyer (similar) / 6. Bedrooms / 7. Kitchen Sconces / 8. Living & Master Bath 9. Mudroom / 10. Clear, Soft White LED Bulbs / 11. Dining / 12. Master Bath 13. Hall Bath / 14. Hallway & Small Upstairs Rooms / 15. Under Stairs

So there’s one big old beach house update that we’re thrilled to share! Feels like we’re SO CLOSE to being ready to bring furniture in (and to installing the kitchen!) and you know we’ll share alllll the details about that with you guys as soon as those happen. Until then, I think the lesson is: a) there are worse things to be than “dramatic” and b) refinishing your floors can be insanely dramatic!!!

Psst- Wanna read other posts about this year-long beach house renovation? Here are all the updates we’ve shared as we brought this pink house back to life.

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post The Pine Floors At The Beach House Are Refinished – AND IT CHANGES EVERYTHING!!! appeared first on Young House Love.

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statusreview · 7 years

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The Pine Floors At The Beach House Are Refinished – AND IT CHANGES EVERYTHING!!!

Just as a reminder, here’s what that room looked like a few months ago, right after drywall went up:

And let’s take it waaaay back for a second. Here’s what this room looked like when we bought the house last October. In the words of Pepe Le Pew: “Le Yikes.”

But back to the floors. This view is another one that KILLS ME. It’s SO AMAZING to me how much this angle has changed.

Psst- Wanna read other posts about this year-long beach house renovation? Here are all the updates we’ve shared as we brought this pink house back to life.

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post The Pine Floors At The Beach House Are Refinished – AND IT CHANGES EVERYTHING!!! appeared first on Young House Love.

The Pine Floors At The Beach House Are Refinished – AND IT CHANGES EVERYTHING!!! published first on http://ift.tt/2r6hzQy

0 notes