โ„•๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ž๐•’๐•Ÿ ๐”น๐•’๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ค (@empathicpsycho) header
โ„•๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ž๐•’๐•Ÿ ๐”น๐•’๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ค (@empathicpsycho) profile picture

โ€œษช'แด ษดแดแด› แดแด€แด…. แด‡xแด„แด‡แด˜แด› ษชษด แด€ ส™ส€ษชแด›ษชsสœ sแด‡ษดsแด‡ แดf แด›สœแด‡ แดกแดส€แด… สŸษชแด‹แด‡ แด›สœแด‡ แดแด€แด… สœแด€แด›แด›แด‡ส€. ษชษด แด›สœแด€แด› แดกแด€ส ษช แด€แด แดแด€แด…. ส™แดœแด› แด›สœแด‡ แดกแดส€สŸแด… ษชs fแดœสŸสŸ แดf แดแด€แด… แด˜แด‡แดแด˜สŸแด‡ แด›สœแด€แด› fแดœษดแด„แด›ษชแดษด.โ€ #ั•tฯƒrm

๏ผข๏ฝ๏ฝ”๏ฝ…๏ฝ“ ๏ผญ๏ฝ๏ฝ”๏ฝ…๏ฝŒ
Joined April 2018
Photo by โ„•๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ž๐•’๐•Ÿ ๐”น๐•’๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ค (@empathicpsycho)Photo by โ„•๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ž๐•’๐•Ÿ ๐”น๐•’๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ค (@empathicpsycho)
๐’ฉ๐‘œ๐“‡๐“‚๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐ต๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’๐“ˆ โ€œ๐‘€๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡?โ€ -๐ต๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐‘€๐‘œ๐“‰๐‘’๐“ ๐‘…๐’ซ -๐’ž๐“‡๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐“ˆ๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐‘’๐“๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’ -๐’Ÿ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐’ธ๐“‡๐’พ๐“…๐“‰๐’พ๐“‹๐‘’/๐‘€๐’ถ๐“‰๐’ธ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’น ๐’น๐‘’๐“ˆ๐’ธ๐“‡๐’พ๐“…๐“‰๐’พ๐‘œ๐“ƒ -๐‘…๐’ฏ? #ั•tฯƒrm
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Normanโ€™s expression was almost unreadable as he listened to her speak, fumbling with hotel inventory nervously as she finished. He met eyes with the blonde once more, pursing his lips into a thin line in an attempted smile. โ€œItโ€™s okay.โ€ He mananaged the two wordsโ€”
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โ€”followed by a simple nod. โ€œNeed a room?โ€ He waited to see if she had anything else to say. It would take a minute to get warmed up to her again.
Norman stood in front of his brother, breathing heavily from both the right, and anger. He had a thousand yard stare filled with rage as he heard his brother speak. He couldnโ€™t do much now but stand there. He felt defeated in a way. โ€œShouldnโ€™t you be โ€”
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As Norman heard the bell, signaling the door was opening, he started speaking, before even glancing up. โ€œHello, how can I-โ€œ As he finally met eyes with the familiar face, he stopped in his tracks. He hadnโ€™t seen her in so long, and given their history, he had no ideaโ€”
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โ€”what to say, or how to communicate. It was like he shut down. โ€œBradley, I-โ€œ He couldnโ€™t push out any more words. He was flooded with all types he of emotions at this point. She, understandably so, hadnโ€™t kept the in touch. He couldnโ€™t deny that heโ€™d thought โ€”
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Soon after Dylan, with little struggle, knocked the fork out of his hand his back slammed down onto the hard kitchen floor, the words from his brotherโ€™s mouth angering him even more, he felt a hard fist meet his face, causing his head to bounce against the floor. It was a โ€”
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โ€”face where heโ€™d been hit. The small tussle was quick, but Normanโ€™s intent was to kill. Norman stood up, walking over to the sink, turning it on and acting as if he were washing his hands. He had a sharp eye on the kitchen knife sitting on the counter. โ€”
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At this point, Normanโ€™s facial features went dark. He didnโ€™t let anyone speak on his motherโ€™s name like that, and he wasnโ€™t about to start now. At this point, he didnโ€™t say anything. He stood up, fork in hand, slowly approaching Dylan. He awaited for the right timeโ€”
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โ€”to raise the fork and come at him with it while Dylanโ€™s back was turned, a grunt emitting from his angry turned lips.
โ„•๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ž๐•’๐•Ÿ ๐”น๐•’๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ค retweeted
โ€œ๐˜‹๐˜ฐ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜—๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜—๐˜ข๐˜ฏ?โ€ โ€”๐˜Š๐˜บ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ค ๐˜๐˜ช๐˜ฃ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ด โ€”๐˜’๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜–๐˜น๐˜บ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฌ ๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ญ โ€”๐˜‰๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ ๐˜ข๐˜ถ #Batesmotel
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โ„•๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ž๐•’๐•Ÿ ๐”น๐•’๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ค retweeted
โ€œ๐’๐ฆ๐จ๐ค๐ž๐ฌ, ๐ฅ๐ž๐ญโ€™๐ฌ ๐ ๐จ.โ€ ๐‘๐ข๐œ๐ค๐ฒ ๐‹๐š๐Ÿ๐ฅ๐ž๐ฎ๐ซ ๐“๐ซ๐š๐ข๐ฅ๐ž๐ซ ๐๐š๐ซ๐ค ๐๐จ๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐‘๐ ๐‚๐ซ๐จ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ ๐–๐ž๐ฅ๐œ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ ๐€๐ฌ ๐๐ž๐ฌ๐œ๐ซ๐ข๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐ž ๐š๐ฌ ๐‘๐ข๐œ๐ค๐ฒ ๐œ๐š๐ง ๐ ๐ž๐ญ. ๐‘๐“? #ั•tฯƒrm
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At this point, Normanโ€™s face had changed at least one shade. He was never good at controlling his emotions. โ€œRuined? No Dylan, youโ€™re the one thatโ€™s ruined. Youโ€™re nothing but a burn out and thatโ€™s all youโ€™ll ever be. Motherโ€™s proud of me.โ€ He hadnโ€™t let his grip upโ€”
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โ€”off of the fork yet. If Dylan kept talking about Norma in any way, Norman would snap. He decided not to talk anymore about Dylanโ€™s job for now, letting the โ€œprocessingโ€ comment fly past his head. At this point, he didnโ€™t care. He glanced back down at his plate of food, โ€”
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โ€”pursing his lips slightly. โ€œNow, if you donโ€™t mind. Iโ€™d like to eat breakfast. Can I do that in peace?โ€ Norman knew this couldnโ€™t be the end of the argument.
//โ€ข Should I create a new layout?
67%yesss
33%naw fam u good
3 votes โ€ข Final results
Norman had started to eat, but as the tension arose between the two, he clenched his fork in his fist, pushing his plate away and squinting his eyes at his brother. โ€œAnd just what /job/ do you have?โ€ As he heard his brothers spiel on Norman and his mother โ€”
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โ€”not telling him where they were going, Norman got even more angry. He always followed along with his motherโ€™s choices, so he was on her side. โ€œOh is that so? The son that calls her by her first name, caring about where we went? Maybe if you didnโ€™t cause her so muchโ€”
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โ€”stress, /Dylan/ she would have told you.โ€ At this point his knuckles were white from gripping the kitchen utensil so hard.