#f2y2d.task

[bemoreopenminded-blog]

Finn was always the less charismatic twin. While Jack seemed to be a people person, Finn found himself uncomfortable in crowds and he often wandered off to be alone. It was recess time and while all of his fellow students ran around on the playground, Finn sat on a bench just outside of the gate reading a book. It was what he always did, trying his best to finish as many chapters as he could within the fifteen minutes of playtime.

He was halfway through his second chapter when he felt something hit the back of his head. In confusion he reached for the back of his head and felt dirt crumbling at his fingertips. As he turned toward the source it happened again - several clumps of dirt hitting his face followed by the laughter of young boys. “You got him!” was shouted from the distance and there were high fives and cheers.

"Stop." His voice didn’t waver, but he also didn’t sound extremely confident. When he wiped the dirt from his face he could see his attackers: three boys from his class with dirty fingers and shit eating grins. They got closer to him, one grabbing onto the white collar of his uniform shirt. He knew that would need washing later.

"What’s wrong, Finnegan? Can’t handle a little dirt?" And honestly he couldn’t. His face, the boys’ fingers, his shirt, all of the dirt in places where it shouldn’t be made a voice inside his head shout. He wouldn’t give the others the pleasure of knowing they were right. He kept silent and kept his expression blank, giving nothing more than a noncommittal shrug. That angered the boy and he shoved Finn and his book to the ground. More dirt on his clothes, in his hair, on his book. And he lost his place. He didn’t even try to stand knowing he’d only be pushed again. He didn’t react. "Come on. You know it’s bothering you."

"Not really." the young boy shrugged again and shook his head. But it was. And it didn’t stop bothering him even after his attackers got tired of their game and walked away. He remained stoic, going back to his book until his teachers told everyone to go back to class. He brushed off his pants and shirt, fighting off the tears that threatened to break his bravest face as he walked in the front of the line to go back to class.

— Hurting her feelings was unintentional. It was a simple question taken the wrong way, leaving the girl in tears and Finn confused. The whole situation confused him, in all reality. The desk was a mess of papers and poster board and while he couldn’t work in it, somehow his partner could. So he asked. “Are you usually this disorganized?” And she took offense. He could tell by the way her expression changed from attentiveness to confusion, then from confusion to hurt. He frowned at both himself and her. “No.. I phrased that wrong. I mean -” Having to explain himself and his motives was where things went wrong. He knew what he meant. He said what he meant to the first time. “You seem to be working just fine in this big mess. Is it something you’re used to?” And that didn’t make it any better. She got up from her seat and asked the teacher to go to the restroom, leaving Finn standing there not knowing fully what he’d done wrong. He watched her leave, then got to organizing the papers on the desk in a way that he could actually work with.

[exphilosophy]

Ignore Me if You See Me Cuz I Just Don't Give a Shit

Gabe was nobody's bitch. Gabe was not a bad guy.

Depending on who you talked to or who you were.

He was the big tall guy who was reckless and snuck into girl's rooms to make out with them on school trips in hotel rooms. He would pick up the gay kid being pushed around, but he would also target people, the people bigger than him. Was being a bully to bullies really morally correct?

Either way, he was out for anybody who was out for him. Nose kept down only half the time, he loved to scrap with people, whether it be playful or not. Later on he'd realize this was part of his masochism. He wanted to kick some ass or get his ass kicked, he was laughing through both instances. That wouldn't change through his adult years.

So it was there he found himself behind the gym in the parking lot, held against the wall by a big burly football player. It was an adrenaline rush, equivalent to the kind he got when he was practicing bass. He was grinning and the jock wasn't having it, but he felt so good. He was the hero of his own shitty life, he was in control of all of this.

The guy got in a few punches, but that was it, that was all Gabe was going to let him have. He had cracked him across the face and then uppercutted his nose and it was all over for the both of them. They stumbled back to class with damage done to both of their faces.

But it was worth it, it was a battle wound. He might not win the war, but Gabe would always win the battle.

[fartooyoungtodierpg]

In celebration of Daria's birthday next week and her plans to be mega wasted next saturday and sunday- there is no task. have fun, be free. If you want to write a task, write about your characters most favorite birthday.  if you dont want a task, then don't do it.  but either way, post every 4 days of you'll be inactive. other than that, have fun! 

[beckettwilliamsx-blog]

bully journal.

One instance, I remember, was when I had come back from my first big tour. Joe was a jealous piece of shit, as he always was when I went out anywhere. I think I had met Gabe on that tour, too, because we toured with a couple of other bands or something. And he'd seen pictures, or whatever, of me and Gabe. And yeah, we slept together the last couple nights all the bands toured together, but it wasn't anything serious. Not at the time.

And it's not like Joe wasn't going out and sleeping with other people, why couldn't I do it? I felt confident, happy, the tour made me a different person. And Gabe was great, he actually made me feel like I was worth something.

Anyway, Joe was sitting on the couch in the dark the night I got home. And I was happy to be home, I'd been off the coke for a while, but I still craved it. I knew Joe had some, and I was excited to see him because I wanted to get high with him. And just be happy. I think knowing Joe was there waiting for me stressed me out. I was anxious, I remember the feeling. I feel it whenever I go back to Chicago, whenever I go home. It stings.

He scared the shit out of me when I turned the light on. But he was so mad. He kept calling me a lying, cheating asshole. That Gabe would never want me for anything other than a fuck. Not even a friend or anything. And those were just from him seeing pictures of us, he didn't even know we had actually really slept together.

Joe kept shoving at me, calling me a shit. I can still hear it. You're worthless, never amount to anything. Nothing after this album is going to go your way, not at all. You're gonna flop. Your whole band is gonna flop. And it's gonna be your fuckin' fault, because you're sleeping with who? Another nobody. For fucks sake, why are you so god damn stupid?

And he just kept going on. It was never ending, it almost felt like, and then he'd hit me. He'd shove me, yell, hit me, yell, shove me more until I was against the wall. He punched a hole in the wall right next to my head, broke his hand. And he blamed me for that.

And I think later in that week was my breaking point. I had been used to the abuse before, but I'd gone out and had a good time on my own, with other people, and I was just so fed up with it that I snapped back. Gave him a taste of his own medicine, about how I could leave him any damn time I wanted. That if he kept abusing me I'd just up and pack my stuff up and leave. And he looked scared, he did. I felt so powerful, I just let it all out.

Until he started screaming at me, too. And then it was just a big screaming match. And it lasted hours, going back and forth. The cops had to break us up, and even then we were still screaming at each other.

That changed nothing. He still beat me.

[beckettwilliamsx-blog]

Class was safe, for the most part.

However, senior year was going to be different. He was writing, music, he was taking music, something he'd wanted for quite a while. Baseball was a bust, he knew he couldn't do it any longer, as much as he loved it. His after school time would be spent on music, playing guitar and teaching Sisky bass or something.

Today was cold, today was so cold he thought his toes might freeze and he wouldn't be able to walk the rest of the way to school. A small smile broke on his face underneath the scarf he had picked up last year; clearance, it was a ratty old thing by now, with the abuse he'd put on it the year before, but it worked, and it was warm. His was backpack slung over both of his shoulders, hands shoved deep into sweatshirt pockets because he was not going to leave the house with gloves on.

Sisky was walking next to him at this point, rambling on about how this was going to be the best year ever! Senior year! Yeah! but William was too cold to listen. This was miserable, school was miserable, being awake at 7 AM just to make the trek to school was miserable.

"Billvy, this whole year is gonna change everything. You know that kid, Mike? He's got this whole set up in his basement, and he says we can do band practices there whenever we need. And I think Andy is up for it, too, we got this. This is gonna be great."

Yeah, William thought as he hunched his shoulders together, that would be great.

[tinycandyhearts-blog]

Bully Task

Growing up, I was the bully. I never really sought out to be, it just kind of happened. At first I let myself believe it was self defense because I knew kids were talking behind my back but really it was because I was insecure. Growing up a twin isn't easy. Though we're not identical we were often compared to each other, including by our parents. Tina was always the pretty one or the smart one or the popular one. I always had to work my ass off just to make friends.

So eventually I started picking on new kids. Instead of being kind and trying to be their friend, I'd make them as miserable as I was, of course this is something I regret to this day. It wasn't until I was 13 that I was my own person, I didn't need to define myself by what Tina did and thankfully that changed what my high school experience probably would of been if I had stayed the same.

I like being a kinder person even if it is hard sometimes when people try to bully me now. These days if you don't have the same opinion as others than they just want to knock you down a few begs. It's hard working for buzznet then reading comments that I'm not a feminist because I'm a bit more on the girly side. Feminism is about equality and letting women choose if they want to be in the work place or at home with a kid. Not saying we're better than men. Though that message seems to be lost on a lot of people.

They say kids are harsh but really, a lot are just copying what they see their parents do. Because I can tell you, adults are far worse. They have more means, more space, more ways to just get in your face and tell you that you're wrong. And sadly with the internet I see more and more kids do it too. With no punishment at all because they can hide behind fake faces. The lack of common sense and kindness I see in the world these days just breaks my heart. I can always hope they see the error of their ways like I did but who knows.

[asdfghjklasdfghjkl1029-blog]

Bully - Task

There were multiple times I’ve been bullied. Back to back, day after day, in every shape and form. After moving from Scotland at the tender age of 12, I was faced with jumping into a new type of lifestyle, well a whole new culture I suppose. I had to leave all my other friends behind and make some new ones. I was of course frightened since it took years to make friends back at home. There were a few years I wish I could get back where I did nothing but sink into a depression about not having my mother around. The rest of middle school was lonely, same with the first two years of high school. At that point my father forced me into picking my head up, to try to find myself and do something with my life.

I started my junior year making friends, my first was Rian Dawson, my neighbor at the time. I was the typical nerdy girl, one with a snaggle tooth, awful I tell you. Rian stuck with me until I moved after graduation to pursue my modeling which would have never happened if my father didn’t motivate me. I found him sticking up for me whenever I was shoved in the hall, mouthed off to, or simply given dirty looks. Not a day went by where I was either picked on for what I decided to wear, or how I did my hair. Who knew being different and standing out was so awful? It wasn’t until senior year, I decided to put my foot down and let those bullies know I wouldn’t continue to take their shit.

I regret a couple of times where I now admit I was playing the part of a bully. Multiple times I realized I had let everything get to me. My senior year I had a couple new friends who stood with me against the awful preps. Sounds like a typical teen movie. We were definitely the odd group, different style and such. Looking back we actually didn’t look too great. In the beginning the preps still constantly tried to get into our heads, nonstop picking as usual. At one point it got out of hand. For instance one girl decided to continue the name calling and shoving. Although she had started it all first, I turned around and did the same. This was the first time I ever stool up for myself.

Thought I did so, I still was not the bigger person. I name called them, shoved them back which felt good for the first few times. After a couple more incidents it began to shut them up for a long while. It lasted for quite a bit, though I finally realized I was just like them in away. Being the way they were with me was not smart, no matter how much I dislike someone I would never wish upon them what I had gone through in high school. For the rest of the year I endured their bullying, it was better then choosing to be the bully just like them.

[m00nasmywitness-blog]

still too lazy to title these things.

Tom was never really one to follow the crowd. It was rare that he went out of his way to be hurtful to somebody else. Usually, they would deserve it, and it had to be a pretty damn good reason at that. Every now and again, he'd mess up. He was a kid. It was expected. Sometimes his jokes would get out of hand. Tom had never seen it as anything hurtful. Minus one time. It was something he regretted, hadn't seen it coming until suddenly his joke had exploded into something more. A joke that was meant to be harmless turned into something worse. Tom was in his senior year of high school. It was the typical time to come up with senior pranks and everyone was expecting something good. He had stayed up all night trying to plan the perfect prank.

His victim had been a freshman. It was a stupid little prank. After watching the kid for almost a week, he had the schedule down. He'd show up before classes to get his books for the first half of the day, then would return after lunch. Luckily, the kid hadn't didn't seem to care about keeping his locker combination a secret either. It was written down on the front of his binder, with the locker number. Tom memorized it before he actually set up the plan. Things had to go perfectly. Tom had sneaked into the school earlier in the morning to set it up. He opened the locker to shove a bunch of water balloons in the top of the locker. They had been filled with warm water. Warm enough that he had hoped the water was still relatively warm when the locker was opened.

To Tom's delight, the plan succeeded. When the freshman opened the locker, the balloons fell. As the kid jumped back, one hit him just right. It landed so that it looked like he had pissed himself. Tom jumped on the opportunity, laughing loudly as everyone turned to look. "What's wrong kid, forget to wear your diapers this morning?" Tom continued to laugh as he lightly hit the boy's shoulder, and turned to walk away. He was even more delighted when the kid was forced to walk around in his gym shorts for the rest of the day. Small cracks were made throughout the day, Tom making the occasional joke about 'not pissing him off' and even going as far to bring him a bathroom pass 'just in case.' The reputation had followed the freshman for a few months before it actually died down.

Looking back, Tom regretted it a little bit. Sure, it had been a great prank, but it had gone very wrong. He felt bad for teasing the kid all day despite the circumstances. At that age, it was easy to get carried away. That was exactly what had happened. It was supposed to be harmless, but in the end, it had actually gone to the point of being hurtful. The freshman's confidence had easily been broken down. Maybe if things had gone a different way, it wouldn't have been so bad. Unfortunately, Tom was fairly certain he had accidentally bullied someone that didn't deserve it.

Being Bullied

When he was younger, Tom was different. That much was obvious. From the way he dressed, to the way he acted, it was difficult to find a way to fit in. He was in eighth grade when he dealt with his first bully. Tom had recently gotten into skateboarding, and he would spend his time after school riding around, minding his own business while blasting music through a CD player. Many times he had to save up to buy a new one from falling down and smashing the device. One afternoon, he had been doing his usual routine, cutting down a road by the football field of the school on his skateboard. His music was up loud enough that he hadn't noticed when the senior football players had come up behind him. The next thing he knew, he was being shoved off of his board and pushed to the ground. Tom's headphones came off in the process.

"What the fuck?" Tom glared up at the kids, moving to grab his board. The taller one took it from him and passed it to the other kids, who promptly smashed it in front of him. Tom flinched as he watched his beloved board split in half, and then get split again. "Hey dickface." The leader spoke and picked him up by the collar of his shirt. "Oh. I'm sorry. Did we break something?" Tom glared, fighting back tears. There was no way he could convince his parents to get him a new one. "What the FUCK." Tom repeated again, struggling to get out of the older kid's grasp. "Quit fighting." He was tugged forward. Despite his size, Tom's struggles weren't helping him at all. He went limp in the senior's grasp. It still wasn't enough. The next thing he knew, he was punched in the gut, and dropped to the ground. The kids kicked him around a little before leaving with a last warning. "Stay away from here, faggot."

Tom looked up with tears in his eyes from the impact. He wasn't sure what he had done, just that he had apparently upset them enough to hurt him. Picking up the fragments of his beloved board, Tom made his way home. His parents never found out about it. As far as they were concerned, he had broken his board trying to do a trick. It was enough to mess him up for a couple of years, staying away from said road until he felt he could easily fight back if need be.