#and cap. someone who has been a reality check and a voice of reason throughout

[natjennie]

sorry I really don't know how to shut up but I think it's possible that a lot of the takes that are like. "ouagh but they should've stayed together forever what happened to them being family 😭" are kind of mm. immature? naive? like have you never had a family member move out? have you never had a sibling go off to college? have you never moved away from a best friend? your family doesn't stop being your family if you don't live together. you don't stop loving people if you're not right next to them. I thought this was the "I keep a part of everyone I've ever met with me" website. what happened to the "I learned how to ride a bike from my best friend's dad when I was 7 and we don't talk anymore but I think about her every time I ride one" like. so much of growing up and being an adult is losing people. in every conceivable way. you grow apart, you talk less, you don't visit as much, you move away. that doesn't make them any less important to you. it doesn't make them any less family. it doesn't make the love any less real. something being over doesn't cheapen the fact that it happened. a show ending doesn't make the rest of it not worth watching. "it's a sad song, it's a sad tale it's a tragedy, it's a sad song but we sing it anyway," right?

[bewitched-bullet]

https://www.tumblr.com/bewitched-bullet/744615026194792448/how-did-you-make-the-jump-from-it-being-a-badly?source=share

Unsurprisingly, I did not get a clear answer. I did not expect one. You accuse people of being bullies and abusers while you are even worse. Spreading lies, talking behind people's backs, manipulating others into following your ridiculous crusade. Do you feel good about yourself?

Where are the asks that put John in a better light? I know they are there, because I wrote at least one of them. Oh, you're not answering them? I wonder why... 🙄

I don't expect you to answer this ask. Because you are a coward. And a bully. And an abuser. (Or maybe you lash out because you feel unfairly accused. Like the rp gang did.)

Obviously, it's been answered. And I knew that ask as well as this one are considered "bad faith" asks. But I answered them anyway, just as I answered ones that expressed doubts over the reality of the situation, just as I answered the spicy ones that defended John, and the Harriett mod one.

But do go on and keep putting your foot in your mouth.

And while you do that, I'll put my old teacher cap back on and break this down for the audience (which.... there aren't many going by engagement? Which makes this even more incredibly hilarious. Like, you’re seriously threatened by a nobody who doesn't even have organic reach.)

Bullies and (chronic) abusers cannot be reasoned with, it's a known fact. So, it is unsurprising to see that they dismissed the answer from their previous asks. Then they try blaming/projection. Likely in an attempt to get an emotional reaction. Actually, this whole thing is an attempt to illicit an emotional response.

Then the mod continues with the self-projection (pssssst! What crusade? Why was i not informed?? I'm allergic to genocidal holy wars!) until we hit the first question. (And yes, yes I am)

Now, they are attempting redirection. I have voiced my observations (at that point) that the John mod has only answered asks that have set them in a only good light. Hence the redirection here. As they have blocked me (wise choice) I cannot see from this account if that still holds true. I bet you they changed tactics after my observations. Because I'm a smart cookie and they know it. Check them dates!

(I have received so many asks y'all and I have answered every one of them except two. One that John mod sent that's still there and was an almost carbon copy of the pm they ALSO sent and a public post they tagged me in. Sooo redundant. And one was a link to Dump's profile (which has been addressed by another anon ask)

So! This here is called fabrication in a poor attempt to discredit. They count on the community/person they are attacking to be either naive, sheltered, vulnerable. In their minds, they believe we are all stupid.

Now, we get to some good bits. They are clearly trying goad and then the fall back on their ol' faithful tactic of self-projection.

Throughout all of this, they were trying to emotionally manipulate by attempting to create an emotional response or a sense of shame (lololol I have none). Digging into someone's sense of shame is the easiest way to control and abuse them. But it generally requires more personal involvement with the intended victim

Millions of people don't speak out and/or stay locked in abusive situations because of shame.

Now with all of this said, that doesn't mean because you've manipulated folks before to get what you want, you're a "bad" person.

Because my morals are my own, I will not tell you folks how to handle this gray area.

Just a question to leave you all with: is the world black and white? Or is it an spectrum?

Just like, if I see someone steal food--no the fuck I didn't.

Ok, time to lock the instructor hat back in the closet where it belongs.

(Side note: being threatened by a nobody because they dare to question and can't be cowed, is common with bullies, abusers, and predators)

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

If you would like to see this whole mess, search the tags for "a scandal in tumblr"

[make-me-imagine]

Red Roses: “I Love You” - Steve Rogers Ending

Valentines Special: Day Nine

Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias  Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias  Day Five: Yellow Tulips   // Day Six: Violets  Day Seven: Lisianthus  //  Day Eight: Daffodils (Post with rest of the character endings)

Plot: It’s finally Valentines Day, the day the reader will finally learn who it is that had been leaving them flowers and notes expressing their secret feelings.

Pairing: Gen!Neutral Reader x Steve Rogers

Triggers: None        Words: 1,944 

Requested Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​, @thebookbakery​​, @fablesrose​​, @kitkatd7​​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​​, @beksib​​, @destynelseclipsa​​, @criminaly-supernatural​​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​​, @snarky--starky​​​, @saintbootlegloras​​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​​, @empath-bunny​​, @okkulta​​​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​​​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​​​ ,  @goinggoinggonzo​​​, @mxxnmocha​​​, @fred-deeks-ben​​​, @euphouriaszn2​​​

February 14th

Brushing your teeth, you stared into the mirror, not really looking at your own reflection, but instead stuck in your thoughts about what today might bring. It was finally Valentines Day. 

Your sleep was constantly interrupted by your restless mind throughout the night. And you woke fully just as the sun began to rise. You lied in your bed for a while, staring at your phone and trying to distract yourself. 

Eventually you got up and began to get ready, leading to now, as you distractedly brushed your teeth for ten minutes. Finally coming back to reality, you finished getting ready before you wandered out into your room. You didn’t have much work you could do, but you needed to find something to distract yourself. Otherwise you’d be pacing around anxiously all day. The party started at 8pm, you had 12 hours to deal with. 

Getting dressed, you left your room and wandered up to the lab. Expectantly, you found Bruce working at his desk. Greeting him, you went and sat at his table. He was the only one you had fully ruled out as being your admirer.  

He peaked at you from behind his glasses as you stared at him “Need something?” 

“Do you have anything I can do?” you asked “I need a distraction.”

“From what?” he asked, looking up at you entirely. 

You looked around the room, seeing a few lab assistants in an adjacent room. Leaning forward a bit you spoke quietly “Whoever it is leaving me the flowers and notes is going to show themselves today, probably at the party, but I really need a distraction Bruce, so please, anything you can give me to do to stop me from thinking about it.” You pleaded with him.

He rose his brow is surprise “I can see why you want a distraction. Uhh,” he began looking around, his yes landing on a large pile of papers and folders “Well, I have some paperwork that needs to be tidied up and filed-”

“Great, I’ll do it!” you said as you went over to the files he was looking at “These?” He nodded his head as you smiled and picked up the pile of folders and took them to an empty desk, Bruce stared after you with an amused smile before getting back to his work. 

You took your time as you sorted through the large pile of papers, sorting them into their proper folders before you file them away. Checking the clock, you were disappointed when you saw that you only spent an hour of your time. 

“Got anything else for me?” you asked Bruce.

“Uhh, I’m sorry, I really don’t” he said with a frown. You pouted as you sat down letting out a sigh “This is really driving you crazy isn’t it?” he asked.

You nodded your head “Well yeah, I mean, if you found out that one of the other Avengers had secret feelings for you it would drive you crazy wanting to know who right? Then there’s the fear that it’s someone you don’t have any feeling for” you ranted, somewhat relieved to have someone you could talk to.

“Yeah that could definitely drive me crazy. But uh, out of curiosity, what made you decide it’s not me?”

“Oh please, I know about you and Nat” you smiled at him as he turned red.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” he excused as he started flipping through the papers in front of him. 

You smirked at his reaction before you heard someone come in, looking up, you See Tony come in, who greets you with a smile “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a distraction” Bruce answered for you.

You gave him a look before Tony wandered over “From what?” You stared at him in silence before glancing at Bruce who smiled.

“Oh what is it a secret? Or, maybe..” he smirked at you “Is it about your secret admirer friend?” 

You squinted at him “You know something I don’t?”

He turned away from you “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Tony!” you said annoyed. He glanced back at you before going into his office and closing the door. You looked at Bruce who just shrugged his shoulders. “Ugh” you exasperated before standing “I’m gonna go see if Nat has anything I can do” you said as you quickly left the lab. What did Tony know? You knew he wouldn’t tell you anything. Was it him? Did he know who it was? Or was he just teasing you?

- - -

After finding Natasha you found out that she was about to go on a quick mission for Fury to retrieve some important info from an ally organization, and after some convincing, she let you go along. You were grateful for the reason to leave the tower, but not grateful for the fact that she, apparently like Tony, knew something about your admirer. But she only hinted enough to make you curious. 

“I wish you hadn’t said anything at all” you mumbled as you arrived back at the tower having completed your delivery of the info to Fury. 

“You were the one who brought it up”

“Yeah because I wanted to vent and you told me I could. You didn’t have to say anything, you’re a spy, you could have continued making it seem like you knew nothing.” all she did was smirk at you “I hate you” you said with feigned anger.

“What did she do this time?” 

Your head shot in the direction of the voice, as Steve approached you and Nat, having heard the end of your conversation as you entered the building. Your heart began to beat rapidly “Nothing” you said, side glancing at Natasha who simply smiled at you “She’s just being her normal self” you said with sarcasm, earning a fake gasp of offension from Nat and a chuckle from Steve. 

Before Steve could pry anymore, you took a step away from them “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to take a shower before the party.” you left quickly as you tried to calm your heart. 

Out of everyone it could be, you wanted it to be Steve. But you were afraid that it wasn’t him, and the more you were around him, the more your anxiety grew that you couldn’t accept it being anyone else.

As Steve and Nat watched you walk away, Steve looked down at Nat “Does she know?”

“Nope” Nat said before looking up at him “You ready?” 

He took a deep breath “I think so.”

She smiled as she patted his arm before walking away “Good luck Cap.”

- - -

As you got ready for your shower, you still had three hours until the party, so you made sure to take a nice long shower to try and relax. After you got dressed and read, you paced around your room, watching the clock as the time for the party grew closer.

30 minutes.

Should you go up early and hang out with the others? What if Nat or Bruce told the others about what was going to happen? You couldn’t handle the questions they might bombard you with. What if it freaked whoever it was out?

20 minutes. 

You were sitting at your window now, staring out at the city, playing with the most recent note you received, having read over it a few times now. 

10 minutes

Should you go now? People are probably beginning to arrive. But then again, you could always be fashionably late...

You were distracted by a knock at your door. You stared at the door as your heart started pounding. Who was that? Natasha? There was another knock as you rose and slowly made your way to the door. You had a strange feeling take over. Was it them?

Stopping at the door for a moment, you took a deep breath before opening the door. You met Steve’s eyes as he stood at the door, smiling at you “Hey”

“H-hi” you stammered a bit as you eyes locked onto the beautiful bouquet of red roses in his hands. You looked back up at him as he handed them to you “I thought we might go down to the party together, and these, uh, are for you.”

You gently took the flowers from his hand as you met his eyes again “Why?”

He could hear the hesitance in your voice as he smiled fondly at you “Isn’t it obvious yet?”

You were hoping the heat you felt rising from your neck to your ears wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “I...it’s you?” your voice was quiet, gentle as you said it. You were afraid to assume, what if you were misunderstanding?

“Yes” he said, making a wave of relief, excitement and something akin to nausea wash over you. He took a small step closer as he reached out and fiddled with one of the roses “I didn’t write a note for these, I thought, the sentiment might be obvious, I mean, the meaning of red roses is well known right?” he asked with a hint of uncertainty. 

You tried to restrain the smile that was spreading across your face as you spoke “Yes, it is... and, do you mean it?” 

He smiled at you know “Yes, completely. As I did with everything else.”

“Who else knew?” 

“Buck, Nat, and I think Tony too, I didn’t tell him but, maybe it was obvious.”

“Obvious?”

“I mean, he’s caught me, staring at you, it’s, uh, hard not to.” he smiled bashfully.

You smiled at him, the red in his cheeks making you feel less vulnerable about yourself “I feel the same Steve.”

He seemed a bit surprised, but also relieved when you said this “Really? I mean you’re not just saying that-”

You cut him off by leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek “No, I’m not just saying that, I was really hoping it was you, which was making me feel bad in case it was someone else” you let out a small chuckle.

“I was afraid I’d screw it up honestly, you almost caught me couple times actually.”

“I did?”

“Yeah” he chuckled “Especially with the Camellias, I didn’t know you were in your room, and uh, when I heard you running towards the door I panicked, and uh, climbed out the nearest window.”

“You...climbed out the window? Of the 23rd floor?” 

He shrugged as you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a laugh “I had to wait until you left to climb back in.” he smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as you let out another laugh “Oh my God Steve, I’m sorry.” you tried to repress your giggles. 

“Don’t apologize.” he smiled, pausing for a moment “I love your laugh.”

You smiled bashfully at him before he suddenly leaned forward, taking your chin in his hand “And I love you.” he finally admitted in words, before he leaned in and kissed you. It was short, but made butterflies explode in your stomach. 

When he pulled away he let out a small sigh “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” 

“Well you can do it whenever you want now.” you said with a small chuckle making him grin. 

You saw Steve glance behind you, “We’re gonna be late.”

You glanced back at your clock and saw that the party had started by now, turning back to Steve, you watched as he moved to the side and brought out his arm for you to take “Shall we?”

You grinned as you closed the door before looping your arm through his “Of course.”

xx xx xx xx xx

I hope you liked it! And the rest of the series itself :) Please consider reblogging and checking out the other endings :)

[tanakavox]

Look into the mutiverse chapter 4

Thanks again to ExiledDarkness for writing the charcters reaction for this chapter. Please go check out his stuff. And if your wondering where Qrow came from, We forgot to add a scene for Qrow and didn't feel like going back.

This chapter is based of the Youtuber SomecallmeJohnny and his review of Super Mario 64. I had to cut it short because my laptod was acting up again and google docs was acting wonky, parts of the fic getting erased. Rest assure for the Somecallmejohnny fans, I won't just do his reviews. I have plans to do Super gaming bros reaction as well. And for those who don't know Johnny, go check him! Enjoy the reaction.

The screen lights up again and shows Jaune wearing a cap and hoodie and sitting on a bright red couch. He had a bit of stubble on his face and he was currently holding a controller in his hand as he turned on a device known as the N64.

"Oh? Jaune looks good with stubble." Blake comments. Everyone looks at Jaune and then back to the one on the screen. They all nodded in agreement.

"It's a go time! Super Mario 64!" He said in a high pitched voice with a bad accent.

The Jaune on the screen sighed seemingly tired. "Lady and Gents welcome back to the Super Mario marathon, And just like with Ocarina of time, this is a game that haunted me during the N64 lifetime. Jaune looked the the N64 sitting on his dresser and continued. "It was like the console itself was actively mocking me like: "Hey Jauney? How about you ditch that playstation and try me out instead?" The blonde's eyes lit up in anger. "Well I didn't have a job in 1996 you sensitive prick!" Jaune snapped at the console.

Everyone blinked at the sudden anger. Ruby turned towards JNPR and asked, "Are you okay Jaune?"

Jaune, still frozen from the sudden burst of anger from his other self, snaps back to reality and nods at the question. "Yeah, I think I understand what's happening here. But I'll stay quiet until I know for sure."

Jaune turned toward the screen and went on like nothing happened. "Last time I gave Mario attention, I was focused on what made the Italian "Plumber—"" He said with quotation marks. "—the video game icon he is today. Now we're gonna do it again only in 3d."

Jaune turned to his audience and smiled. "You guys ready for another Super Mario marathon?"

"Aha!" Jaune says as he slammed his closed fist on his hand. "This is me doing video games!"

Ren paused at hearing this information. "Then that explains the sudden burst of anger then." Nora and Jaune nod while the rest of the audience looks on confusedly.

RWBY look at each other before Yang hesitantly asks, "So why did he get so angry?"

Jaune laughs before scratching the back of his head. "I like video games but I hate it when I can't progress further into the game. Sometimes I get really into it, I guess."

"Here we go, Super Mario 64, the 64 being figureded to the console and not the 64 game in the series, Mario's first 3d game, and a launch title for the N64. It was highly praised and hailed as the 3d version of what Super Mario bros on the NES did for platemors at the time, Mario 64 did the same. But I came into the 64 train late, So I don't have what you call: Super Mario 64 memories. In fact my first 3d Mario game was the next game we'll be looking at: Super Mario Sunshine on the GameCube. Jaune's expression darkened as he smiled hurmlousy. "But that can wait. Oh it can wait." The tone of his voice was bitter and venomous.

Everyone laughed now knowing the context of Jaune's anger towards video games.

"Alright booting the game up and the first thing you see is Mario's head. You know to really hammer in that this is Mario's first 3d adventure. You can even fuck around with the face a bit but it doesn't really effect the game it's just there for fun.

We're also greeted by Mario's new voice, provided by Charles Margent. Shockingly this isn't his debut as the Jumpman, that was in Mario Fundamental, a Pc game released a year before. Pretty sure no one heard of it before someone did a document on it.

"This idea of a floating Mario head, perhaps more infamously in Mario teaches typing two. A floating deformed head pop on the screen.

"Hey? Are you ready for Mario type?" It asked.

"Mother of God." Jaune deadpan in horror.

"Despite the new voice, Mario doesn't speak much. It's mostly hiyas woohoos throughout the game. And he only speaks a full phase when he completes a goal or he falls asleep on the job. It shows the red clad mario on the ground sleeping.

"Ha spatgai, Ha ravioli." The plumber mutters in his sleep.

Nora drools over the names of food. They sound pretty good right now.

"Charles as Mario is so absorbed into my head I can't imagine anyone else doing the role. It's not like the acting is amazing or anything, he's been voicing Mario for nearly 20 years at this point. If Charles stepped out of the role for any reason, the next guy would just try to simulate Charles' voice.

"It's weird that way," Ren piped up, "No matter what happens people are going to remember the original no matter how much the new one tries to be the old one.

"Hear hear ninja boy" Qrow cheered a bit and took a swig of his beer.

"Okay nearly forgot that I was looking at a video game, Sorry about that. Well let's look at that plot shall we?"

"I'm curious to hear about the kind of story this game might have," Ozpin said as he crosses his legs.

"Boswer kidnaps Princess Peach, Mario must go save her, now that didn't take long now did it?"

Ozpin blinked and sat back in his seat, a bit disappointed.

"I'll let it slide this time since they probably wanted to keep it safe for the first game in 3d. Hell, the menu theme is the main theme for the series."

Qrow snorts. "Fair enough. I guess you can't expect these guys to be that ballsy."

The entire game is set in Peach's castle. Boswer has taken the power star, which I believe gives the castle power? Jaune shrugged. I dunno what they do, it's not really explain and getting more powerstar allows you to get into more levels, and that's the name of the game here. Bowser had set up routine courses in painting.

"The courses tend to varies but nothing here gets too crazy like other Mario games. It's not until late game you go to more odd place like in a clocktower or riding rainbow.

"The game's openness is the first thing you'll take note of in Mario 64. You can start a mission with a hint on what to do,but there is nothing stopping you from just doing a different mission and grabbing the star despite not being the mission you clicked on.

There are a handful of expectations like racing against against Koopa the quick who not gonna show up unless you chose his mission, but most of the time you can go at it on your own pace. Eh, I didn't wanna fight King Bo-mb yet, I want free the chain chomp and get the star there. I could take down King twop, or I could do a well place jump and get this unrelated power star. And that's where a lot of Mario's replay value comes in, not just getting the power star but how you get them.

"Oh, this game sounds fun! I should get it if we ever get out of here." Nora exclaimed.

"With what money Nora?" Jaune asked. Nora looked at Jaune with a wide smile. "No." Jaune deadpan. Nora pouted at his response and turned to Ren with a wide smile.

"No Nora. And do not ask Weiss either." Ren said with his eyes still on the screen and Nora pouted again.

Peach's castle acts as a hub world, the place you're exploring and using to get to other stages to get more power stars. But in order to duke it out with Bowser, you need to get a certain amount of power stars to access the level. As a guy who doesn't care for hub worlds I don't mind Peach's castle. The levels aren't too far apart and there are things you can do in the castle that can help you increase your star count. Like a secret race track that gives you two stars if you're fast enough, or an underwater level that contains an easy to get star. It challenges you in a way that makes it still feel like a Mario game.

"It sounds pretty easy at first glance, but I can understand how annoying it can become if you mess up at least once or twice." Jaune says. Ruby, Nora, and even Ren nod in agreement.

The biggest change to the formula was the jump to 3d, like with Ocarina of Time. He still has to break boxes, stomp on enemies, the works but this game gave the man a few extra moves to go along with the change to 3d. The analog stick is used to move Mario, the further you tilled it the faster he moves, instead of the run button we knew from the past game. Mario still has the jumps he's famous for, but pressing the jump button can allow Mario to reach the heights he's never seen until this game without a power up. He can crouch and crawl but I've only used this a total of once. But you standstill and jump you can do a backflip, and if you crouch and run you can do a long jump which I love using so much and because you can do some real fancy shit with it, and it makes Mario move faster to boot. If you snap the anlong back and jump he can do a somersault and if you jump towards a wall, Mario can wall jump as well.

Nora makes a face at the detailed review. "All these moves and stuff sound annoying. Why can't games be as simple like they are now?!"

Ren sighs and begins to explain but Qrow cuts in. "It's because of games like these were like test models that you get to play the good quality games you have now. I remember playing Soaring Ninja back when he was literally unplayable and useless. Now look at him!"

Ruby and Yang gasp, Soaring Ninja was unplayable?

"I wouldn't be surprised if this move came from the gameboy version of Donkey kong. That remake has a fucklord of levels and a handstand jump for Mario. He still takes damage if he falls too far, so he's just a pale imitation. Jaune had Mario wall jump a wall to prove a point. "The Mario I know could fall from any height and take no dam-" Jaune cut himself off his eyes widening when he heard Mario grunt in pain and his health go down a bit. "WHAT THE FUCK! He took damage from a large height! Mario! What's the meaning of this?" He asked in bewilderment, looking at the floating Mario head from earlier."

"Oh nice computer you have here. Can I have it?" the Mario head asked

"No!" Jaune exclaimed.

Everyone's eyes widened at the scene. Ozpin checked his mug with scrutiny to see if he was still drinking the right drink. Looked normal enough.

"Peach's castle has 120 power stars in the castle, but you only need 70 of them to beat the game." Jaune had a strained smile on his face as he continued. But where the fun in just getting 70 power star and beating the game that way, it not like getting all the star is that time com- for fuck sakes yes it is!"

"Let's just get one thing clear, I fucking depise the 100 coin misson. It's as simple as it sounds, grab 100 coins and then grab the star that appears over your head. Lather rinse repeat, for all 15 courses. In a game that usually has you go to once place and grab the star, collecting these coins brings the game to grueling crawl. Mario 64 doesn't have a checkpoint system. It doesn't bother me much. The levels are usually small and with Mario's new moves getting the Power star is not only comartable, it's also pretty fucking fun. And then their these." That venomous tone from before came back. The screen showcased the blue coins that have appeared throughout most of the video so far.

"Aw it's one of those games! The type that needs you to waste your time actually going through all of what the game has planned for you before you get to the final boss! What a rip off!" Qrow exclaims, tossing his hands in the air. Jaune agrees, crossing his arms and trying not to join in on the rage.

"No amount of looking of cute puppies. can cotain the amount of rage i have when I fuck up these mission with a impeferct jump or when a enemey hits me from behind. It's not always a painful process, but sucks so hard cause the coins are either place so far part or because they're so goddamn scarce! "Gotta kill those enemies before the coins blink away and scatter when they spawn. These blue coins are 5 regular coin a piece but you gotta get them before they blink away and you only got one shot! Was there area I didnt search, an enemy I skipped, I did I fuck up somewhere since I only have 64 coins after look around what feels like for fucking ever?!

"And try not get the last coin in a dangerous area or impossible to backtrack to. The star will always appear right above Mario's head, so make sure it's a safe locati-GODDAMN!"

The star had appeared in a caged area that Mario couldn't reach.

Everyone laughed at the other Jaune's misery. The Arf viewing the screen feels relieved that he himself isn't on the receiving end. Or was he?

"Couldn't just tell the star to come to you Mario?" Jaune asked the Mario head on his computer.

"When a moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that's amore!" Mario began to sing and Jaune facepalm when he didn't get answered. "When an eel lunges out…

"UNGAI?!" Jaune jumping up. A eel appeared and let out a roar and Jaune wasn't in his chair anymore, It being left spinning by how fast he booked it.

"That's amore!" Mario finished singing and chuckled. Get it? Amore eel? I said funny.

"Fuck you!" Jaune said from somewhere in the house.

All the immature audience members fell out of their seats in laughter while the more mature chuckled at the scene.

At the end of the day, I really shouldn't be going for all the Power star, and that's more of a technical issue, but I'm gonna bitch anyway. But despite the age, this game is still a treat to play even today. This has been Somecallmejohnny, and you guys have a Good Day.

Nora stretches and yawns. "Well, that was a nice one. Funny too! I wonder what's next?"

The end

[crazycephalopoda]

Grief

My father died February 11th, 2021. That, in and of itself, is a weird sentence for me to write. To acknowledge. To me, the reality of this situation that I find myself in has not quite sunk in. I feel it in waves, rocking me like a boat beating against a storm. There are times when the boat has a leak and I scramble on deck to patch it together, desperately holding my hands over the holes while water rushes in. There are times where other boats come near to try and salvage my wreckage, but the captain goes down with their own ship and whatnot. I have always been one for bad metaphors. Amidst all of this, there are times of calm and quiet waters as well, where the ocean seems endless and empty. My father is dead. He is gone. He will not come back.

I check my Facebook messenger and look at his icon to see if he is there or not. He is not. He will not be ever again. I feel a lump forming in my throat. I scroll through the messages we have shared for the past several years and question every conversation. Did I contact him enough? Why didn’t I respond to that one message he sent? Was I too short with him? Did he know that I loved him? I look back and analyze every photo he was in. Why did I make that face? Why didn’t I take more photos with him? Did he know that I loved him? Why didn’t I show that I loved him more? Why didn’t I? Why didn’t I? Why didn’t I?

Attempting to live my life normally is a joke, and a bad one at that. Everything reminds me of him and the memories we made while growing up. I had malt o meal for breakfast. I cried. He loved malt o meal, with a large amount of sugar and a small amount of milk. Just enough that it was “liquid but not runny” like he said. I remember just two weeks ago when he had eaten only one bite of malt o meal and turned it away due to being nauseous. I thoughtlessly plopped the spoon in my mouth. We all laughed at the realization that he had just had chemo and we were not supposed to swap bodily fluids due to the poisonous chemicals. It was not funny. It was. God, I hate malt o meal. Why did he like this stuff?

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When my eyes are closed, I see the same scenes playing out in my head that have resided there for the past several weeks. They plague my sleep and leave me restless. He had always had a cheery and rounded face, but those final weeks his eyes sunk in between mountains of cheekbones and gaunt skin. His mouth hangs open like he cannot get enough oxygen for all the air in the room. Maybe he wants to speak. But he doesn’t. He is silent at the end, except when in pain. His eyes are also open, halfway and drooping. His eyes are open, and he is searching but he is not seeing me. At one point, when he could still speak, he mutters about bugs crawling on the walls and a girl on the ceiling. We joke about how scary that sounds to make it less uncomfortable. Could he see us there, beside him?  

Curly hair was his best feature, he always said. People from all over complimented him on his natural hair all the time. We had a hairdresser once who fawned over it. He acted embarrassed but I think he liked the attention. Those same locks of hair now lay disheveled and unkempt around him like a halo. My mother sprays them with water and tries to keep them clean. I was glad, at least, the one chemo treatment had not stolen that from him. We cut a lock of hair to keep. It is the only thing of his person that will not face or be burned when he is cremated. What would he think of that?

My mother and I are caregiver to him, and we drain fluid from his chest as it builds up to an unbearable amount. At first it is an alien procedure to me, with a series of steps and protocols and cleaning routines. Put on two sets of gloves, touching only the wrist. Clean the cap with an alcohol swab. Make sure the clamp is fastened before you attach the bag below. Don’t drain too much or his blood pressure will drop, and you will kill him even faster than the cancer. After a few times, it is normal and just another thing we do to help him. Towards the end, it is tinged red. So is his urine. So is everything else. He stirs at one point in his confusion and tells me “I’ve leaked, I see red everywhere”.  There was none, he was hallucinating. At least that time. Is he in pain?

Our fingers intertwine periodically when I sit beside him. When he was still conscious, he would occasionally reach out for whoever was closest. This was the smallest of comforts we could offer him. He always liked to sleep with his arms above his head, but the atrophied muscles would not allow this for him. We moved him into position like a broken marionette throughout the day. His hands are placed on his chest after he passed. They were so yellow, cold, and frail. There was no strength left in his ragged fingers. I held one of his hands in mine and I took a photo. The yellow skin glares at me like the sun and I squint, suddenly nauseous. I change the photo to black and white. As I stare at that photo now, it seems morbid to me but at the time gave me something to keep of him. What will it be like to never touch him again?

The sounds amplify the hell I experience. After his first round of chemo, he was awake and aware of us for two days. During that time, we made mostly small talk. He was quiet and introspective. At one point, I sat across from him and worked on readings assigned from my graduate school classes. He broke the silence to say he was proud of me. I told him that I was sad he would not see me graduate. He was the reason, after all, I had pursued this path. This is the only time I saw him cry in front of me. We held each other and I listened to his heartbeat in his chest while he told me that regardless of his death, he would be there for me. I realize now that I never asked him things like what his favorite color was, which tv shows he liked now, what hobbies he wished he had done when he had the time. As he is in and out of sleep, my mother and sister tell him “it’s okay, you don’t have to fight, let go”. I cannot speak these words. I do not want to. On his last day, I had exhausted myself to the point I needed to rest. My head had barely hit the pillow before I hear a sound across the vast distance of the house that raised the hairs on my arm. It’s someone in pain. I rush back to his bedside as his head turns this way and that. His mouth now opens only to say “help” in a strangled, garbled voice. He is soothed with morphine until his whimpering subsides. That was the last thing he spoke to us. I never really said “goodbye” to him. Was there more I should have said?

For weeks I sat beside his bed at night and watched over him while the hum of his breathing machine aligned with the nervous fluttering of my heart. His gasping breaths... In for a few seconds, quickly out, then held for an eternity, then in again. Every pause between his breathing caused me to hold my air in my throat. Every pause could have been the last one, but it wasn’t. Until it was. My mother calls out to us, after he expressed pain, and we gather around his bedside. My sister, my mother, my grandmother, and me. My mother holds his hands and weeps. His breathing is different, not the beat I have grown accustomed to. It is quick, jagged, and quiet. At some point, it stops. There is an eerie silence, followed by the sounds a body releases shortly after death. It startles me, and an undeniable signal of the horrible event that has just unfolded in front of us. I can’t believe it. I reach over to his throat to feel a pulse. There isn’t one. I dry heave into the trash can nearby before I break the silence with a loud scream. As I browse Facebook now, I wonder how I can hear him again. Are there videos of him speaking? Why didn’t I record any videos of him speaking? Is his voicemail still on his phone? I am scared to call it. Why am I scared to call it?

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Reliving these events, the weight now completely crushes my chest. It caves in my ribcage, plows through my heart, and drops me somewhere against the cold of the floor below. I am paralyzed in this position, barely breathing. I am scared. If I am too loud, if I cry, if I talk, I am acknowledging this new reality I am forced to live in. I don’t want to live it. I don’t want to be a part of it. I reject this world, body and soul. I am scared. Frantically, my mind races to those who are still present. I have not spent enough time with them. I have not said all the things I wanted, asked them what their favorite color is, or recorded enough photos and videos. When will I lose someone else? How will I lose them? I am scared. My breath begins to catch in my chest, and I feel the room shrink around me. I will never hear him again. I will never see him again. I will never touch him again. I will never play Fallout (which he loved) with him or watch Alien Covenant (which he hated) with him again. I will never be able to fall into his arms and cry about something stressing me out again. I will never hear him tell me he is proud of me again. I will never see him smile after he tells a bad joke again. My father is dead. How do I grieve this loss?

[thatonegirrl16]

Helloooooo! So I know I haven’t posted any of my writing in forever, but I’ve been working on this piece for a few months now, and I’m very proud of it! If you’d like to read it, you can click the keep reading button thingy and let me know what you think! It’s completely original, not a fanfic or anything, but I wanted to post it anyway lol.

WARNING:

This story gets...well it goes into some deep shit, not gonna lie. If you are sensitive to any of the following, please don’t read it! 

This story contains:

Mentions of previous death Depression Anxiety Sexual Harassment  Implication of self harm

I know that’s a lot but that’s why I’m telling you upfront. But, I still am proud of it and would like your opinion on it if you don’t mind!

Stars

           The stench of nail polish wafts through the air as I gently paint my final nail. I screw the cap back on, careful to not smudge any of my now flawless rosy-pink nails, and study each of them carefully. “Perfect,” I think to myself. I wave my hands around to dry them, and hear my phone buzz behind me.  I turn around and lean over the screen, being careful to not smudge my nails. I notice it’s from one of the girls in the group chat I have with my friends, saying they’re waiting for me down in the lobby. I let out a sigh. They all wanted to go to a party tonight, which means that, by default, I’m going too.

           I give my nails one last wave, then stand up to check in the mirror. I study my reflection, for once feeling confident about my appearance. I decided to wear my waist-long chocolatey brown hair in loose curls, my personal favorite way to style it. My pink nails match my soft loose shirt perfectly, which is lightly tucked into a pair of high waist denim shorts. I slip in a pair of gold hoop earrings and put on my light brown sandals, the ones with just a little bit of a heal to hide that fact that I’m only 5’4”. I look in the mirror and decide my pink lipstick is too bold, so I change it to a glossy nude. I touch up my winged-eyeliner and mascara, then step back one last time to make sure everything looks in place.

            I make eye-contact with my reflection, and pause as I stare into her bright green eyes. On the outside, everything seems perfect, like nothing could get in her way. But her eyes—they tell the real story.

           I shut my eyes, not wanting to look at that broken piece of myself anymore. But it’s too late, I realize, as the memories start flooding back to me.

           …

           I’m in ninth grade again. The pain of the loss of my dad is fresh, clawing at my chest and not letting me go.

           My dad. The one person in my life that no one could ever replace. The one I knew I could look up to. He brought me so much joy, so much laughter. He was the one I went to when I needed comfort, the one I went to when I needed to talk. He was always there for me. Then he was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, and died a month and a half later.

           It was like the flame inside of me was smothered, leaving nothing but a dark and cold husk of what I once was.

           I can’t even remember a day where I didn’t think of my dad since he died. We had such a great relationship, the type that other people would envy if they saw us together. We would laugh at each other’s jokes and tease each other all the time. And then, he was gone. Just like that. I never had time to process what was happening—the last few weeks went by so fast.

           My mom never really recovered either. She took to solitude after he died, which meant I had no one to comfort me when I needed someone most. I was alone—I had no one who cared.

…

           A knock on the door to my dorm room snaps me to reality, making me jump. I look back into the mirror and realize a few tears have slipped onto my cheeks.

           “Hey Amy! You ready baby girl?” a muffled voice says from the other side of the door.

           I brush away the tears and quickly pull myself together best I can so Bryan doesn’t notice anything’s wrong.

           “Coming!” I grab my purse and rush over to the door. I open it and see Bryan standing in the hallway, leaning up against the doorframe.

           “What took you so long Amy baby?”

           I wish he didn’t use such derogative terms when talking to me. I know it’s his way of flirting, but secretly I hate it. But how could I tell him? He’s just trying to show affection, I think.

           I try to sound nonchalant in my response.

           “Let’s go. We’re gonna be late!”

           By the time we get down the three flights of stairs and to the lobby, I’m feeling a little better, the rush of emotions having passed. I see the rest of our friends, Manda, Kris and Sam, who are all talking and laughing as we arrive.

           Sam. My absolute best friend in the entire world. Sam is the reason I’m still alive, to be honest. About a month after my dad passed away, I found Sam. They didn’t care that I was broken. Instead, they comforted me in my time of need.

           Yes, they. I learned that, at the same time I was struggling with the loss of my dad, Sam was going through their own struggles as well. At the time I met Sam, they had just adopted the term nonbinary to define themselves, deciding that they didn’t want to identify as either a boy or girl. But Sam knew that those around them wouldn’t accept that, so they felt trapped, unable to be the person they wanted to be. To this day, I’m still the only one that knows this.

           We found each other at our lowest point, the weight of depression having taken over long ago. We both felt like we could trust the other, the feeling of loneliness fading just a bit knowing that the other was struggling as well. We feel safe around each other—nothing has to be an act when it’s just the two of us, unlike with the rest of the world.

           As soon as Sam sees me, they tear away from the group and tackle me in a hug. I let out a yelp and can’t help but laugh a little, hugging them back. Manda walks over to us shaking her head and laughing.

           “Okay you two. Let’s head out.”

           Everyone except Sam and me hustles towards the door, leaving the two of us to talk privately. We tread behind the rest of the group, and Sam glances over at me.

           “You doing okay?” they ask.

           I smile up at them. “I’m okay.”

           They shake their head in response, and I let out a sigh. They know me too well.

           I sigh. “Okay fine. Honestly, I wish we weren’t going. I…I don’t know. ”

           Sam looks down at me and pats my back reassuringly.

           “I’d don’t wanna go either if we’re both being honest. But maybe it won’t be so bad?”

           I look up at them and shrug. “I doubt it, but okay.”

           They chuckle, but I can tell that their heart isn’t really in it. It’s true—neither of us want to go. But this the first time in years that Sam and I have been even somewhat accepted into any sort of friend group. We’d hate to ruin it over something as small as a college party.

           We get to the car and I hop in the backseat. Kris is driving, with Bryan sitting next to him. Manda is squished in between Sam and me, since she’s the smallest out of all of us. The two guys up front start up a conversation, along with Sam and Manda, so I look out the window and watch all the trees and buildings whiz past us as we drive away.

           I glance up at the stars, wishing the city would go dark so I could actually see them all. The stars have always been mesmerizing to me, ever since my dad started teaching me all about them when I was little. I always feel safer when I look up at them, in a way. No matter what’s going on around me, I know that at night the stars are always there, never changing. I can’t help but smile when I see them. The stars are so beautiful, and always hold some of the best memories with my dad.

           We pull up to the party and I see it is already in full swing. My smile fades, remembering why I’m out tonight. I take a deep breath and open the car door. I immediately feel the music pumping through my chest even though we’re not even inside yet. Bryan lets out a yell and jogs up to the house. The rest of us head up as well, even though every one of my muscles is telling me not to. I feel a tightness rise up in my chest, and my eyes start stinging. I feel my chest rise and fall, faster and faster and faster. I glance over at Sam. They see me panicking and demonstrate taking a big breath in and out. I gently nod and focus on my breathing. Deep breath in…and out…in…and out.

           I feel a little bit calmer by the time we reach the door, which is wide open. The music is now even louder, making my head pound. The lights are dim and someone set up colorful lights throughout the room. I see about fifty college-aged kids just in this one room, blue solo cups in hand filled with their intoxicating substances. A group of girls are sitting in one corner vaping. I make a mental note to avoid that section of the room.

           Someone offers me a cup of mysterious brown liquid, but I shake my head and pull a bottle of water out of my purse. Honestly, it’s best if you bring your own drinks to these types of events.

           I look around and notice that all my friends except for Bryan have disappeared into the crowd, including Sam. I sigh and walk up to where Bryan has already joined a game of beer pong. I stand beside the table and watch. His opponent is clearly winning, though Bryan doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Every time one of them makes the little ball in a cup, the crowd around them cheers and starts yelling. Bryan chugs a cup of watery beer and yells with them, while I try to make myself smaller and stay out of the way.

           Bryan holds the ball, taking aim. He makes eye-contact with me and winks.

           “This one’s for you baby girl!”

           I cross my arms and give him a playful smirk, even though my heart isn’t fully in it.

           He tosses the ball, and it sails right into the cup, causing an eruption of yelps around me. I slink back and try to stay out of the way, when I feel a hand touch the small of my back. I glance back and notice a tall, blond headed guy smiling down at me.

           “Hey, might wanna watch out there. You could get hurt.”

           He winks at me and slowly slides his hand downward, but I swat it away and quickly rush over to Bryan. I wrap my arms around him, and he puts one arm over my shoulder.

           “This guy is going down, Amy, just you wait!”

           I quickly glance over at the blond-headed kid, who’s smiling at me. It’s not uncommon for guys to hit on me at these types of events, but this guy gives me chills.

           As the night goes on, I try my hardest to stay as close to Bryan as I can. But as time passes, he becomes more and more drunk, and less and less aware of me. After being there for God knows how long, I decide to step outside for a bit. There’s too many people in here, a large majority of them drunk. I walk out of the kitchen, where Bryan is fixing himself yet another drink, and find myself in an empty hallway. The lights are dim, and the music is just a little bit quieter. I find it a little strange that no one is here, but I keep walking, determined to escape the suffocating house. I turn the corner and bump into someone, spilling my second water bottle of the night all over the two of us.

           “Sorry,” I mutter and try to step out of the way. But the guy in front of me blocks my path. He grins down at me.

           “Oh, my bad,” he sneers. My eyes grow wide, realizing that this is the creep from earlier. Except now, he’s almost as drunk as Bryan. I quickly try to duck around him, not wanting to start any trouble. He grabs my arm, holding me back.

           “Let go of me!” I yell. But instead, I feel myself being dragged into a small, dark room and shoved against a wall. The guy grabs both of my tiny wrists with one of his sweaty, meaty hands and pins them above my head. His face grows closer to mine, and I can smell this sickly scent of cheap beer from his breath. I feel him grab my breast, and feel adrenaline pumping through me. I scream and kick him in the shin, sending his drunk self off balance and giving me an opportunity to run. I dash out of the room and slam the door behind me, sprinting back to the kitchen to find Bryan.

           “Bryan. I need to leave. Now.”

           He snickers. “C’mon baby girl, this party is fucking lit. Don’t ruin the fun.”

           I feel a tear slip down my cheek.

           “Bryan, please. You don’t understand. I need to go back now!”

           He laughs at something his friend says and half-heartedly shoves me away.

           “Go find Kris or something.”

           Frustrated and hurt, I bolt outside. I see Manda and Kris laughing with a bunch of other people and run over to them.

           “Guys, I need to go. Please.”

           Manda turns around and looks me up and down.

           “What’s wrong?”

           Another tear falls down my face. Then another.

           “S-some guy g-grabbed me and…and put me against a wall a-and touched me an-”

           Manda cuts me off. “Amy c’mon. He was just hitting on you, stop overreacting! It’s a party! Live a little.”

           Kris, who must’ve overheard me yelling, joins the conversation. “I mean, you were kinda asking for it. That is a pretty low-cut shirt you’re wearing! Like damn, girl!” Kris starts laughing and Manda joins him, turning their attention away from me.

           I start crying even harder, and quickly shield my face and walk towards the car. I didn’t even want to come to this stupid party, and now my friends are acting like complete jerks.

I glance up to the sky in desperation, but all I see are clouds. Not even the stars are there for me this time.

           I slump against the car with my knees up to my chest, and sit in silence, watching the chaos of the party from the safety of the car.

           How could I let that guy harass me like that? I should’ve said something the first time, should’ve told someone or something! But I was a coward, running to my fucking boyfriend to protect me.

           Was Kris right? Was it because of my shirt? I shake my head in an attempt to rid myself of my thoughts and put my head in my heads.

           Why do I even hang out with those guys anyway? Manda, Kris, even Bryan. I can’t be myself around them, can’t go to them when I’m hurting. I just wanted to fit in somewhere. I’ve gone so long having to deal with being the outcast, with being the one that no one wants to hang around, except for Sam. Manda, Bryan, Kris…they’ll never truly accept us, not for who we really are. They just seem like they have everything all together, unlike Sam and me. We’re broken, they’re not.

           But I don’t know what else to do.

           I feel the tears start to flow again. Why is my life such a mess? What did I do to deserve this? I want nothing more in life for this… this pain to go away. But for the past six years, it’s managed to find me again and again. I can’t escape.

           I feel my fingernails dig into my calves. It hurts, but I can’t stop. The tears flow harder and harder. I can’t stop them. My chest is rising and falling quickly, and I can’t catch my breath. My hands slip off my legs, and I wrap my arms around myself. I cry out in a whisper the only person I can think of who could help me.

           Dad.

           Why did he have to leave? Why did he have to die? He was my lifeline, the only one who could ground me in times like this. I have Sam now, but Sam will never replace Dad.

           I miss him. I miss him so much. I feel the sobs continue to wrack my body, painful sobs. I want nothing more than the pain in my life to stop.

           I don’t know how long I sit there crying. But I finally manage to calm down enough to breathe. I close my eyes and focus on calming down.

           Breathe in.

           And.

           Out…

           I open my eyes and stand up. It’s like I’m on autopilot—unsure of where I’m going. I start walking back towards the house, not sure of what I’m doing.

           I notice Sam standing at the foot of the driveway, and I immediately turn and start walking towards them.

           “Amy?”

           “Hey Sam.”

           I walk up next to them and plaster a fake smile on my face, just wanting to forget everything happened.

           “What’s up? Why aren’t you inside?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation casual.

           “I just needed some air, plus I just wasn’t having a great time,” they say.

           “Yeah?”

           “Yeah. The guys in there kept calling me ‘man’ and ‘dude’. Which like, I get it. They don’t know about, well my identity I guess. I can’t expect them to know better. But it still makes me uncomfortable every time. Brings me down, you know?”

           I nod, trying my best to hide my true feelings. But Sam knows me better.

           “Amy, what’s wrong?”

           Immediately I break down in tears, unable to hold them back any longer. The words flow out of me, almost without permission, as I begin to tell Sam everything that went down that night. They reach over and embrace me, and I sob into their shoulder, grateful for the comfort. I let go after several minutes and wipe my nose with the collar of my shirt.

           Sam looks at me with a worried and caring expression.

           “Amy, do you want me to call someone? The cops, your mom, anyone?”

           My eyes widen.

           “Please, Sam. Don’t call anyone. I-I don’t know if I could handle it. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve said something when it happened. I-”

           Sam grabs my shoulders.

           “Amy. You are not allowed to blame yourself for this, okay? That guy is an ass who should not have done that. I think we should tell someone.”

           I shake my head.

           “No…please, Sam. I can’t. I can’t deal with that.”

           Sam looks at me for a few moments, then lets out a sigh.

           “Okay. But please, Amy this isn’t your fault. Whatsoever.”

           We sit in silence for a moment. Sam reaches over and gives me another hug, and I hug them back. I manage to stop crying, and I take a deep breath and close my eyes, feeling the warmth of my best friend embrace me.

           After several minutes, Sam pulls away and looks at me.

           They break the silence. “People are cruel.”

           I nod. “People are cruel.”

           I let a small smile escape my lips.

           “Sam?”

           “Yeah?”

           “Thanks.”

           “For what?”

           “For being you. And being there for me.”

…

           We hop into our Uber and start heading back home. I’m glad Sam suggested that we go ahead and call one, since neither of us wanted to be there anyway.

           I speak up. “Remind me why we both went to that party again?”

           “Cause we’re stupid.”

           “True. But really. Why do we do these things that we don’t want to?”

           They think for a second. “To impress the others? To show them that we’re just like them? I dunno.”

           I lean back against the seat. They’re not far off actually, now that I really think about it. We want to be like them, like the unbroken.

           But in reality, they’re broken too, in their own way. We all are. Everyone is broken; everyone has a story that has made them into who they are, and not all of it has been easy. Some just seem to hide their broken parts better than others.

           I look out the window of the car, seeing the trees and buildings fly past us once again. I glance up at the sky and feel a smile creep across my face. The clouds are gone, and the stars are out once again.