#i had an internal debate with myself whether or not this should go in any of these fandom tags. whatever. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

paganminiskirt · 1 year

Note

I love reading your analyzing of Coyle. I wondered if you had any thoughts on his sexuality? (I mean I have a damn spread sheet myself, but you're so much better at words and really great at psychoanalyzing lol). I've described him as being "the straightest gay man I've ever seen" to a few people now and eventually the "get" it.

(CW: discussions of canon typical sexual and racial violence, slavery, internalized homophobia, domestic violence and femicide. One of the linked videos also discusses fascism using disturbing transphobic rhetoric as an example.)

Thank you for your kind words, it’s really nice to know my ramblings are resonating with someone! Discussion should be allowed to emerge naturally, but I think much of the debate that arose from the revelation of Coyle’s character was removed from the context of the oppressed groups being commented on by the text. I say that mainly in reference to people of color, since the KKK represents a cultural trauma which is inextricably attached to blackness, but the statement applies to queer people as well. That very Klan was almost extinguished in the 1870s until it was revitalized half a century later by a film, of all things: media is obviously important. There’s much more that can be, and to an extent needs to be, said about this story beyond rehashing “it is/is not okay to hornypost about this” ad nauseam.

So let’s get this out of the way: I think Coyle was deliberately being written as queer. The ethics of incorporating LGBT characters in a setting so obsessed with the grotesque are questionable (you can read more perspectives on that here and here,) but I think there was intention behind the decision to depict him this way, whether it's "good representation" or not.

One of his defining traits is that he habitually deploys lewd, effeminate language to intimidate and dehumanize his victims: “alluring piglet,” “honey,” “beautiful/sexy b*tch,” “darling,” “sweet, ripe young things" and the like. You could argue that is solely a degradation tactic rather than a direct indicator of his sexual preference, and he does seem to do it primarily to scare you. But a big part of the horror in Kill the Snitch is that Coyle is very unembarrassed about how much pleasure he gets out of subjecting you to that degradation. (“You lick my boot, maybe I let you up.”) The innuendo he taunts the Reagents with is unaffected by their gender presentation, and The Snitch is a fixed character presented as a cis man who Coyle treats with just as much aggressive leeriness. From there, it's difficult to interpret him as straight.

And since Coyle is one of the main villains of the game, I think I would be remiss if I argued that his bi/pansexuality is a thematically insignificant byproduct of his broader characterization as a sadist. That conclusion certainly presents itself: even if his queerness is loudly implied, it isn’t commented on directly by the text the way other aspects of his character are, like racism and uxoricide. The closest we get to a clear, unmistakable identification of his sexuality comes in the form of his aforementioned attitude towards The Snitch.

While the Reagents are interchangeable grunts, The Oogie Boogie Man Snitch is Coyle's own prisoner, and as such we witness him compound the usual routine of sexualized cruelty with repeated assertions of possession, calling him things like “toy” “mine” and “property” to emphasize a sense of ownership. He comes completely undone when the Reagents electrocute him to death, exploding into thwarted, miserable rage like a kid watching their sandcastle get kicked to shit (“No! FUCKING NO! He was mine!”) and throwing out all of his beliefs at once as this jumbled, fascistic mess; “anarchist pinko fucks” this and “country’s going to shit” that.

Perhaps the most telling line about their dynamic is this one: “Jesus Christ you look like my second wife, you know that? Spittin' image. Woman got me 'bout as hot as Missouri asphalt.” The only time we see how Coyle interacts with people on an even playing field is in the files, when it’s mentioned that he killed two of his fellow soldiers when serving in the army & brutalized a murkoff agent interviewing him. The social dominance he has over people like The Snitch and his wives seems to be the only way he’s capable of conducting interpersonal relationships on a vaguely emotional level. Otherization, fuckability, and the need for corrective shame/subordination are all intertwined in Coyle's head, muddling together to form his notion of natural hierarchy: one which is incoherent, self-serving, and more about appearances than anything else. (“I know what you did. I just need to hear you say it.”)

And the importance placed on appearances isn’t just something that Leland happens to believe. In the era when this game takes place, the electric chair was at peak popularity as a form of “humane” capital punishment: in reality, it was a callous technological repackaging of the methods of execution which came before it, namely the (distinctly racialized) hanging/lynching. These methods were designed to reinforce social hierarchy by staging voyeuristic displays of dehumanization, and were levied with particular barbarism against people of color. There’s a catalog of horror stories I could insert here about white supremacy and the electric chair, but that’s another post entirely. What I want to establish is that:

A. It's easy to interpret The Snitch’s execution (and the Reagent’s forced participation in it) as a symbolic enforcement of Murkoff’s construction of social dominance, akin to capital punishment or lynching/state sponsored terrorism. B. Men like Coyle were categorically responsible for orchestrating executions like the one in the game, and the fact that he gets so angry and addled about it even though he’s ostensibly a follower of their doctrine speaks to the nature of his ideology.

Though a lot of real world topics get touched on by Coyle's dialogue, it certainly isn’t 100% down-to-earth social critique. Many of his lines invite you to laugh at him (“It's hurtful when you disrespect the badge. I have feelings, too”/”Ain't you slicker'n a can of mashed assholes”) and his crimes themselves are, at times, overblown and ridiculous. He's a caricature of institutional violence and injustice, not a straight faced example of it. No, the realistic part of Coyle’s storyline is how the power structures of 1950s America both protected him from consequences and deliberately encouraged him to degenerate. I’ve alluded to this before: it’s one of my favorite things about Trials.

He was sent to military school because of his violent tendencies and joined the marines to avoid investigation after killing his first wife, but once he had the Police Department to shield him his behavior escalated in severity so much so that it attracted the attention of an even worse organization. The process was Military School → Ku Klux Klan → Marines → Police Department → Murkoff. This facet of the story was always there, but the newly released comic really hammers in the point, that Coyle - infantile, nonsensical, vulgarly abusive and utterly unworthy of authority - was never a barely tolerated outlier or a well kept secret within the systems he budded up from. The files directly attach his klan involvement to police work even as he's described as a “good cop:” because there were no good cops in Blackwell, because good cops aren’t real. US Law Enforcement can be traced back to early southern slave patrols, they've had a handshake agreement with the Klan for decades, and you need look no further than the recent Minneapolis Police Department exposé to see how they operate in the modern world - and this game is set sixty years before 2023. Horrifying, yeah?

Understanding cops themselves to be fundamentally immoral and unjust, by the time we meet him in the game, Coyle isn’t even a competent cop in terms of his willingness to enact unjust aims. Yes he is brutal, yes he is racist, yes he clings to the childish, cowardly belief in immutable superiority found in actual modern fascists - but the ouroboros of psychosexual issues driving him to behave the way he does take precedence over his purported devotion to any belief system, to such a degree that he isn’t even acting in explicit defense of an institution anymore. That job, to defend the current institution, is what the Reagents are being trained for: the same ones he deems subhuman and, most tellingly, “perverted.”

One thing that makes Coyle’s whole presence in Kill The Snitch so surreal and disorienting is how manufactured and aimless his job as The Snitch’s defender really is. The man play acts an interrogation of someone who will never see trial, referencing vice squads, courts and elections that are nowhere to be found in the Sinyala facility - even though a different line of his mentions how they “don’t favor courts in these parts.” So, he’s directly contradicting himself. When the Snitch dies, he goes “NO! NO! I'll never... God DAMNIT,” not even finishing his own sentence about what it is he apparently needed The Snitch for.

The man obviously thinks otherwise, but he’s a make-believe cop, a test dummy for trainees to be pitted against ala shencomix’s professional hater. Though nowhere near as disenfranchised, Coyle is a puppet in Murkoff’s trials as much as the Reagents are, all his nasty, grandiose rhetoric ultimately amounting to hot air: and unlike the Reagents, this does not end with him being reborn. He lacks the overarching purpose of eventual service to a greater cause that they have.

And therein lies the self-destroying prophecy inherent to his understanding of reality. You can argue that Coyle is aware (subconsciously or otherwise) that there exists the potential for him to be otherized, and by extension subordinated, for an immutable part of himself which is directly attached to his sexuality and masculinity. I’d be surprised if he wasn't, considering how loudly the prejudices of the culture he arose from are relayed to the audience. The fear that comes from that knowledge gives birth to an obsession with categorism, shame, and “justice:” which he rationalizes as an immutable aspect of reality by connecting it with the natural phenomenon of lightning. (“I used to stand in a storm and watch the lightning strike the plains and I would think, "well there you go." That's justice. Sometimes the finger of God reaches down and touches you. But you never know which finger it is you're gonna get.”)

This leads to violence which he is constantly rewarded for: and because it’s the only viable outlet he has for exercising those very issues which he was trying to avoid confronting in the first place… he overindulges. Loses all interest in presenting the rhetoric coherently, in favor of chasing the immediate release that cruelty provides with ever-increasing vigor. (Funny how he calls the Reagents “dope addicted” too. Mr. Sony VPL strikes again!)

But in the end, Coyle is worthless. He’s a tool, designed to be overcome. It's a similarly symbolic, utilitarian role to that of The Snitch, which potentially feeds into his perverse sense of protectiveness over him, but the people who are coming out the other end of this with a job to do in the real world are the Reagents. People he looks down on, people he terrorizes, people he’s so desperate to bend to his will. He’s like... white chauvinism revealed as senseless, small and disgusting, condemned to chase its own tail & buckle under its own weight no matter how hard it shakes it's fist at the sky.

And in a series so fixated on delusion and the disintegration of the self, the nugget of reality within that was thrilling to see on screen. 10/10, would cringe at again.

#theartof-p #leland coyle #officer coyle #outlast trials #murkoff corporation #I’m feeling a need to include a “the north is awful too” caveat #but I recently found out some relatives had a cross burned on their lawn.#in the urban North. in the 80s.#so it’s probably just my own biases speaking lmao #i’m p sure it doesn’t sound like I’m singling out the rural south here but lmk if you think otherwise #lmk whatever you have to say #anyways. Long live Leland Coyle’s hideous deplorable ass!!!

86 notes · View notes

clumsiestgiantess · 1 year

Text

Chapter nine of the Other-world Universe; drunken shenanigans! Amongst other things. (This chapter’s one of my favorites)

all chapters linked here

[Hangover? I hardly know her]

On one boring Saturday, several weeks from my first attempt at redemption, I left for the other-world after dinner. It seemed so much more inviting now that Erica had forgiven me. Well, not forgiven me, actually. It was more along the lines of facing the reality that I occasionally wandered through her world whether she wanted me there or not. I had a better feeling about things, regardless. I still wanted to make a better impression than I had when we first officially met. Erica had willingly spent time with me, and she'd actually enjoyed it. She said so herself. The thought of that rainy day made my heart skip a beat. Befriending the people of the other-world was a lot more gratifying than sitting around invisibly controlling them. Albeit, it was a lot harder.

It wasn't raining that evening, but large clouds hung heavily in the air. Erica's house was empty when I meandered past the cliffside, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sorrow at the sight. What was I going to tell her, anyways? I asked myself internally. 'I came back because my world's boring and you aren't?' No, it was for the best that she wasn't home. I could wait for tomorrow — maybe get there a bit earlier. I’d come later into the night, but then again, I always come around dark. It stresses me out less and makes me feel a bit more hidden.

Wandering further through the outskirts of the city, I debated controlling someone to get closer to its center. However, since everything that happened, I was really trying to be less lenient with my own rules. 'Absolutely necessary' was already vague enough. Deep in thought, I stumbled over a car in the street, not even realizing it had turned down the road I was walking on. I glanced backwards to find the vehicle flipped upside down in the road behind me. Too many bystanders had seen it happen, though. This was a residential area, and people were already flocking out of their homes to witness the damage. Like so many other accidents I'd caused, I could do nothing to help without making a scene.

I guiltily slunk off to a different, less inhabited place. The streets were filled with pawn shops and sketchy offices that were most likely fronts for a plethora of illegal things. I quickly moved on from that section and continued around the outside of the city. After finding nothing of particular interest, I was ready to call it a night and head back to my own world. A split second from vanishing away, I felt a magnetic-esque tug. Erica. Should I look for her? Will she think I’m stalking her if I do? In the end, I decided to just check in on her, then head back home. Strange streets slowly became more recognizable as I traversed the roadways trying to follow my and Erica's sixth sense.

Once the old club came into view, I picked up the pace, suddenly realizing where she must be. Erica was nowhere in sight when I arrived, and I had to wait later into the dark morning for her to emerge from the building. This time, she actually recognized her car, so I assumed she wasn't too buzzed. However, the second her car was running, she proceeded to put it into drive rather than reverse. She came horribly close to smashing directly into the car parked in front of her. Thankfully, my reflexes reacted before my brain did. I quickly stopped the vehicle in its tracks with a free hand. Eyeing the empty streets for any passerby, I brought her car to the empty lot I'd sat in to watch the city over a year ago — only a block or two down the street. It took a few moments after I'd placed it down, but Erica eventually stepped out of her car and looked around the lot, confused. "This isn't my house," she stated confusedly after examining the darkening streets.

Oh boy. "Erica, what are you doing trying to drive this drunk?" I asked quietly, slightly exasperated, "Weren't you already arrested for doing this?" She whirled around towards the sound of my voice, glancing around the dark with a bewildered expression. "H- hello? God, is that you?" Shortly afterwards, she dissolved into a mess of giggles and slumped back down into the driver's seat. "Don't take me yet!" Erica exclaimed drunkenly, "Wait until the hangover starts, then I'll want to leave." Sighing, I kneeled on the concrete and considered my options. I couldn’t leave Erica in the lot; she was far too drunk to stay by herself in the city, especially at night. My first thought was to take her home myself, but that meant I’d have to pick her up either in her car or just in my hand. I knew for a fact that sober Erica would passionately refuse both options.

Taking her car was basically out of the question, though. It would be way too risky trying to hide it from the view of all the people in the other-world who might look up and spot it, even if it was the dead of night. The only way to get Erica home is to carry her there. I debated my decision for a moment. “Erica, can you come out of the car for a second? I- I need to take you home, but I’m honestly not sure how.” Erica shrugged and stepped off her seat, stumbling on the cracked cement. Hesitating a few times, I reached for her. Unfortunately, I had to keep myself invisible in the outskirts of the city. Erica would have a fit if I were to try this while she was sober, but I had no other choice.

My fingers slowly curled around Erica’s torso, lifting her a few inches into the air. The second her feet left the ground, she shrieked like she was being murdered. I quickly set her back down, regretfully watching as she scrambled behind her car for safety. Her bubbly mood was replaced with a newly terrified one. It was heartbreaking; all her newfound trust in me was instantly revoked.

Erica’s frightened voice echoed from her hiding spot. “I can’t be controlled again. Please, it has to stop. I don’t want to be a puppet.” She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Was she really this scared of me, or is that the alcohol talking? Sitting up as much as I could without fully standing, I surveyed the area for people. Streetlights and neon signs hummed with life, but otherwise the surrounding streets were completely dead. Tentatively, I came out of invisibility. “Erica,” I called softly, “It’s just me. I won’t control you, I promise.” Her head popped up from her hiding place behind her car. “You’re not?” she asked, looking me over warily. I shook my head and she slid out of hiding.

Erica meandered around the lot for about 20 minutes afterwards, blabbering drunken nonsense and pacing around aimlessly. She tried twice to drive home, but I refused to let her get in her car. I’d quickly slide my hand over the door every time I saw Erica make a move towards it. The second time I blocked her, she pressed herself into my fingers, trying to force them apart so she could get past them. It was strangely adorable, but I still refused to let her in. Driving in her disoriented state was basically a death sentence.

“Come on,” she whined, “I wanna go home already!” “I can’t let you drive this drunk,” I replied. She sighed, giving one last attempt to pry my fingers free. Finally, she sat down tiredly on the back of her car. A few minutes later, Erica nearly slid off her seat in drowsiness. I quickly reached over and caught her before she got a face full of cement.

Immediately, Erica slid out of my grip and hurried to the newly opened doorway. At that point, I was worried I might have to hold her car aloft to stop her from using it. However, Erica paused at the door, hand hovering over its handle. Slowly, she turned to look up at my exhausted expression. "You're..." she paused, considering my large form sitting cross-legged in the lot, taking up more than half the empty space. "You're my friend, right? I can trust you?"

I was baffled by her questions, but immediately had the answer. "Of course you can trust me." Erica gave me an oblivious, innocent smile, "That's good. I like you. I'd invite you over to my house, but you won't let me go." She wandered over to my hand, laying back on it like a bed. "Guess I'll just sleep here tonight. But I’m going to make it your problem." I sat stunned while Erica rambled on in a half asleep voice. In her slightly delirious state, she'd asked me where my house was and questioned whether I even had one or just slept in the mountains somewhere. Before I could try to explain my situation to her, she'd fallen asleep.

After a few minutes, I bent over to see her closer, fingers cupping around her ever so slightly. I didn't dare get too close though, just in case she woke up and my closeness scared her. Butterflies flitted around my chest as I gazed down at Erica tucked sleepily in my palm. I gushed over how sweet a moment it was before realizing something like that would probably never happen again. Once she sobered up, I doubted Erica would ever be that trusting of me. I can enjoy this moment now, though. Before it ends, and I go back to being seen as an 'untrustworthy monster' not a 'safe friend'.

My pulse quickened slightly as I felt Erica shift unconsciously on my palm. Her arm slid over my thumb, pulling it closer to herself as she nestled her head on the pad of another finger. The feeling was so overwhelming, I felt my eyes tearing up. Seeing her sleeping soundly was making me doubly tired. It was definitely well past midnight, and I still hadn’t slept, myself. Even when I closed my eyes to get some rest, there would always be some suspicious sounds out on the street or a slight movement from Erica, and I'd suddenly be woken again.

Eventually, I must've fallen asleep, because when I woke up the sun had drifted above the horizon. My heart dropped in panic as I quickly became invisible once more. Hopefully no one had spotted me while I was sleeping. Erica was still out cold, so I slid my hoodie out from its previous use as a pillow for myself, and placed it on the ground with Erica on top of it. My hand prickled awfully from the loss of blood over the course of the night. I had to hold it still for hours so Erica wouldn't wake up. As I shook out my hand and bent my fingers to get them back to normal, I pulled away from the building behind me to check how much damage I'd undoubtedly caused by leaning against it. There was a large dent in its side where my back rested. Thankfully, the building looked long abandoned.

Early city sounds started up for the day, and I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Horns blared in the direction of the highway, and a flock of tiny pigeons scattered into the sky. Suddenly, a small yelp startled me mid-yawn. I glanced over at my hoodie where Erica was now sitting upright in confusion. "What- Where am I? What happened? Alexis, are you-" "I'm here," I replied softly, not wanting to draw too much attention to myself. Erica flinched slightly at my voice before calming down once she recognized it. A few seconds passed as she stared into the distance, possibly remembering vague details from the night before.

"You.. wouldn't let me drive home last night..." "Because you were ridiculously drunk and almost crashed within five seconds of trying to drive," I finished. Erica sucked in a pained breath of air as she clutched her head and slowly laid back down. "Fucking hangover," she cursed under her breath. "I think the drinks might’ve been spiked. I.. I really shouldn’t keep going back there.” She rolled over and clutched fistfuls of my hoodie closer to herself. “Thank you though, for keeping me off the road. I could've died; I wasn't really thinking." I smiled, breathing in the early morning air. "You're welcome."

"I have some water in my car," Erica realized aloud. "If I could just get it..." I would offer to get it for her, but I doubted I could get to the bottle without accidentally tearing the door off. We sat in the lot for some time, Erica trying to power through her headache long enough to make it to her car. She got two thirds of the way there before doubling over in pain. I had to reach out and catch her before she fell to the ground. Erica froze when she felt my fingers hoist her back up, but she quickly got over it and made her way into the driver's seat with my help. Finally, she got out the bottle and swallowed a few sips, slumping over in pain and exhaustion afterwards.

I noticed her cast a longing stare directed at my hoodie. Erica wanted to lie back down, but didn't want to keep me here longer than she already had. She sat sideways, legs still dangling out of the car, and looked up in my direction. "Did I-” she stopped for a second then started her sentence again. "I don't remember much of last night, but.. did I fall asleep in your hand?" she asked hesitantly. "Yes," I confessed, "You wanted somewhere to sleep, and since I didn't let you into the car…" "I'm sorry," Erica interjected, "That's.. embarrassing, I'm so sorry. I kept you here all night." I let out a breathy laugh, "No, it's fine Erica. I really didn't mind! It's not like anyone's missing me back home." She seemed slightly concerned for a moment, sitting up to get off her seat before letting out a small yelp of pain and reaching for her temples, again staring longingly at the comfortable pile of fabric a few feet away.

"Hold out your hand," I instructed. Shockingly, Erica made no argument. Her tiny digits brushed over the pads of my own, leaning her weight onto me. Gently, I hauled her up out of her seat. With small careful movements, I managed to guide her back to my hoodie so she could lay down again. With a wan smile, she burrowed herself in its folds. "Did you know I'd be out drinking last night?" Erica asked after laying there for a while, her eyes closed in a half-sleep. "No, I was just sightseeing in the city again," I answered honestly, "I was about to leave when I felt you were nearby and went to investigate."

"By 'investigate', do you mean 'spy on me'?" When I answered with a dull silence, she opened her eyes and sat up slightly to look at me. Well, to look at the empty space that I sat in. "That was supposed to be a joke, sorry. I wasn't trying to chastise you." This was new. I don't think Erica had ever apologized to me before. Not that she had anything to apologize for. "I'm just glad I came when I did," I replied, "before anything happened." She must've sensed my tone shift a bit, because she frowned at me and stood slightly before realizing that wasn't helping her headache. "You were worried about me?" Erica asked, looking slightly flattered. "That's.. really sweet of you."

I nodded vigorously, though Erica couldn't see me. "Of course I was worried about you!" I exclaimed before realizing I should probably keep my voice a bit quieter. It hurt my throat, but it probably kept me a bit more secretive. Even if it didn’t, whispering would also be better for Erica’s headache regardless. "Imagine how awful I'd feel if I came back to the mansion to visit and you weren't there. I guess I would think you blew me off, but I'd really start to worry once you were gone for weeks afterward."

Erica sat silently for a bit, deep in thought. "I..." she started, "I guess I didn't realize you cared about me that much." A long silence followed, her last words resonating in the empty air. Erica's expression became clouded with emotions I couldn't quite read. "Are you alright?" I asked uncertainly. The silence broken, Erica shook herself off and straightened up. "Yeah, I'm just thinking. I really should head home, though." "Alright, I guess I'll do that too. Do you need help?" She shook her head and stood slowly, "I should be alright until I get home." I watched her return to the driver's seat, readily waiting to catch her if she fell.

Before closing the car door, Erica slowly turned to look at me. "Thank you, again, for dealing with me last night. I swear I'll try not to get that drunk from now on. It’s not that I want to, it just kinda.. happens, I guess." I laughed slightly, "You work on that." Erica started up the car, smiling lightheartedly. With a little wave, she drove off back to the mansion, leaving me behind on the cracked concrete lot. Just in case, I trailed her car from a distance. She said she was alright to drive, but I wanted to make sure she made it home safely before I left.

I could barely sleep that evening, far too awake thanks to the events of the day, along with the fact that I’d just woken up. Erica had trusted me so wholly that she’d slept in my hand. I felt giddy just thinking about it, but at the same time, I had to come to terms with the fact that the incident had everything to do with the alcohol and whatever else she’d consumed and nothing to do with her actual trust in me. However, even when she’d slept it all off, Erica had still trusted me enough to touch her that morning.

I hadn’t touched her or even got very close to her since I’d grabbed her during our first true meeting. She made it crystal clear that she didn’t want my massive appendages anywhere near her since then. That was until just this morning, when she’d willingly taken my hand. It might’ve just been Erica being in too much pain to be stingy, but she was stubborn; if she didn’t want to do something, it was near impossible to get her to change her mind. The only reason I say near is because of my abilities, but using those was obviously out of the question.

Exited that Erica finally seemed to be warming up to me, I eagerly returned on the following Saturday. I’d chosen Saturdays simply because they were the day I had the most free time. I raced downstairs right after lunch and zapped off to the other-world, almost jogging to the cliffside before realizing the tremors I would undoubtedly cause. Stepping up to the mansion, I found Erica on the phone with someone inside. Resting on the cliffside a bit further down, I waited for Erica to finish the call and come to the door. It was taking a suspiciously long time for her to get there, so I began wandering off to the areas nearby.

Eventually, I noticed the glass door, which had now been fixed, sliding open. Erica stepped hesitantly onto the patio outside. "Alexis? Are you out here?" I made my way over to the mansion again. "Yeah," I answered, "It's Saturday. I'm here." My sudden voice caused Erica to jump a few feet in the air. Her face scrunched up in thought, “You came today? It’s.. not the best time for me. I have errands to run today." I stared blankly at her, suddenly feeling very awkward. "I.. oh." I felt so stupid — it was all I could say. “N- Nevermind. Sorry to bother you.”

Erica snickered, shaking her head slightly in embarrassment for me. She thought for a moment, then made a small 'aha' gesture. "Hey, you know what? While you're here, do you think you could help out with stuff? I was just on the phone with a decor store. See, I have this new couch coming, but the store's being big jerks about it and they won't deliver it for me. They said they'd have someone help load it into my car, but.." She stepped out a ways, gesturing to her two-seater sports car parked in the driveway. Its trunk was only a few feet long, and that was in other-world measurements. "It won't exactly fit. I told them that, but I don't think the lady on the phone particularly gave a shit, so.. I'm thinking maybe, while you're here and everything, you can get the couch for me?"

I mulled her idea over. I don't really have anything else to do, and I was planning to spend the rest of the day here anyway. "Well, I can't just go there and get it by myself, you have to go and claim it." Erica waved a hand to shush me, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm coming too. I just need someone to take the couch." "Alright," I agreed, "I'll help out. I was planning to be here today, anyway." My agreeance was instantly rewarded with a rare genuine smile from Erica, which was compensation enough for me.

It took Erica a few minutes to get herself ready, but soon we hit the road. Well, she hit the road and I followed from a distance. I was still amazed by how easily I could keep up with vehicles like her car. Technically they were only toy-sized so I guessed it made sense. We had to diverge paths for a bit when the highway turned through a forested area I couldn’t walk in, but using our sixth sense, I was still able to follow her despite not being able to see her. When she got to the parking lot, she took a space at the very far end.

“Alexis?” Erica called, stepping out of the car. “I’m here,” I replied quietly, kneeling down. There was an empty dog walk beside the lot on this side that gave me just enough room to stay. Erica had probably parked all the way over here because of it. “I’m going to have them leave the couch out on the corner over there. Do you think you could take it without anyone noticing?” “In front of the entire parking lot?” I asked skeptically, looking out over the stretch of asphalt and cars, "I'll try." Soon, the new couch was brought out to the corner. Erica told the employees who took it out there that a truck would be coming by any second to take it, but they insisted on waiting for it to arrive so they could load it inside. It was their policy or whatnot.

Erica began to get annoyed, realizing that they would get suspicious when no one actually showed up. Spying a van nearby, I got an idea. I made sure Erica was preoccupied with the moving guys before stepping over and latching onto the driver. I had them pull up to where the couch was waiting, then call out to the movers and Erica. ("I'm here! Is this the couch?") Erica's eyes went wide in shock, her face paling as she rapidly figured out what I’d done. I instantly regretted my decision, but the two movers got right to work placing things inside.

The moment they left, Erica glared at me through the person she realized I must be controlling. "My car. Now." I hesitated, but begrudgingly had the person drive out and park beside her fancy red sports car. Erica marched up to the driver, "What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you weren't doing any of this shit anymore!" It was weird watching her yell at the innocent person I was controlling instead of my actual self, who was watching invisibly from above. ("They weren't going to leave, so I thought this might help,") I explained. She stared at the driver a moment, "Can.. Can whoever you're controlling see what's happening right now? I remember it was like spacing out and watching things happen around me…” Her expression shifted from anxious to enraged in a matter of seconds. “Alexis, you can't do this to people!" ("I know, I know. I just need to do one thing, then they'll go off and forget this ever happened.")

Erica stood irritated the entire time as I, myself, got the couch out of the van. Quickly, I had the driver pull away and forget the last few minutes. "See, they're gone. It's like they were never here," I said quietly. I knew what I did was not going to be cast aside that easily. "Can we just… go back to the mansion and I can explain-" "Explain what? You controlled someone right in front of me!" "Erica, I controlled them for five minutes. They were completely fine and I did nothing to hurt them. I- I understand that what I did to you was very wrong, but it wasn't like that. I had someone do us a favor, and that's all." "Just bring the damn couch home." Erica slammed her car door and sped away before I could reply. I took up the piece of furniture and held it beneath my shirt to keep it hidden.

I stood in numb shock as I watched Erica’s car disappear down the freeway. What was I thinking, controlling someone in front of her, even if it was only for a moment? On my way back, I realized that without my sixth sense to guide me, I was a bit lost. I followed the trail of places I recognized, unsure whether I recognized them from the trip today or from another time. The sudden sound of something ripping apart startled me from my pensive mood. I nearly tripped over a stoplight when I looked up.

A pitch-black tear broke through the sky to my right. It was as if the atmosphere itself had been cut open, filled with a gaping black void of whatever was inside. There were only two or three other cars on this backroad, but everyone who saw it stopped and watched in frightened awe. The tear looked exactly like the strange instance of black lightning I’d noticed from a distance a long time ago. I’d completely forgotten about it until then. Now that it had opened a yard or so away from me, I realized that the strange phenomenon was definitely not natural.

A few seconds of stunned silence later, the tear slowly closed back in on itself, sealing up the sky once more. What in the world was that!? Clearly, no one else seemed to know either. A crowd of bystanders formed in the street by their abandoned vehicles, debating over what exactly they’d witnessed. Talk of aliens and dark magic drifted to my ears from the road below me. Whatever strange things were going on, this time, they were not my fault. Not wanting to stick around in case any government agencies came looking, I backed off and continued the long walk to the mansion.

When I got back, Erica was there waiting for me. Silently, she opened the back doors and pointed inside to where the old couch used to be. I delicately placed it inside like you would a piece of dollhouse furniture. It wasn't completely dark yet, but it was getting there. It had taken me a while to find my way back without Erica to guide me. Her back was turned and it looked as if she might shut the back doors on me, so I quickly shifted to visibility.

"Erica, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," I pleaded, "It's not fair what I did. It should never have been that long, I- I just got into the habit and didn't stop…" She turned around to face me. My eyes were brimming with tears, and I was gripping the cliffside so hard that chunks of rock came away in my hands. "You're not talking about today, are you?" Erica asked, leaning tiredly against the doorframe. I shook my head, bending down to look her in the eyes. "You.. didn't deserve that. I stole eight months of your life, and I convinced myself that you were better off because of it…" I took a shuddering breath and continued. "I don't want to scare you or hurt you, I promise."

There was a long moment of dull silence where I could've sworn Erica would tell me to leave her alone, but all she did was sigh and step inside. My stomach plummeted. I stepped away, trying desperately to keep myself from full-on crying. I had come so close. "Hey, I'm- I'm still here," a whisper echoed from the second floor of the mansion. "I just came up here to talk to you easier." I wiped the tears from my face as best as I could in the pitch dark of the coming night before stepping into the light of the house.

"You genuinely care about me, right?" Erica asked once I came back over. I nodded furiously. "You're lucky that I care about you, too. We’re friends, which means we’re supposed to look out for each other. So just.. Please don't control people anymore. It’s not right and it freaks me out." She crossed her arms defiantly, "And if I ever see you do anything like that again, even if it's for a few minutes, even if a person isn't affected by it in the slightest, that's it. You and I are done." I blinked, slightly astounded despite my awful predicament. "There's.. there's a you and me? We’re friends?" Erica rolled her eyes, "That's what you got out of all this? You know what, maybe there isn't a you and me after all." "No, no!" I backtracked, "I agree with what you said before, I won't control anyone again!” "You better not," she chided, pointing a finger at me, "Or else."

I stood feeling chastised while Erica glanced awkwardly back into her house. “I should really go make dinner," she mused, more to herself than to me. "I haven’t had anything to eat since eleven o’clock this morning. I’d order in because I really don’t feel like cooking, but I did that yesterday.” I stood up so fast, Erica flinched. “I can get us something to eat!” Instantly, I vanished into my world and grabbed the backpack I’d been planning to bring. A few sandwiches were packed inside.

Moments later, I was back at the mansion. Erica still stood hesitantly on the balcony. “It.. might be a bit too much, but I have these,” I said, offering her one of the sandwiches. It occurred to me then that I probably seemed a bit desperate to make amends by doing this. I watched Erica’s expression. She mostly seemed shook by the fact that I had a sandwich the length of the room behind her. “Are you trying to win me back with food?” she questioned, glancing at me smugly. I looked away, embarrassed, “I just.. don’t want you to be mad.” “Then maybe you should listen to me the next time I tell you not to do something.”

“Ok..” I answered guiltily, letting the sandwich fall to my side in my hand. She did have the right to refuse my peace offering. “Woah, wait,” Erica stopped me, “I take bribes, hand that back.” At her sudden remark, I let out a surprised laugh and took the sandwich out of the bag it was in, breaking off a piece that would be semi-manageable for her. “Here you go, then,” I offered it to her. We spent the rest of the evening eating and talking until we both started getting tired. Before I could say my goodbyes, Erica stopped me.

“I.. You..." Erica paused, mouth opening and closing silently as she searched for a way to tell me what was on her mind. "You’re not controlling me anymore, are you? And then making me forget?” “What?” I asked, genuinely confused. “L- Like that guy in the parking lot? You made him forget about what he did.” I leaned over to rest my head on my hands, propped up on the side lawn. “Why would I want to control you?” I asked her earnestly, “What would I possibly hope to gain from doing that to you now?”

Erica hesitated, thinking. “I only did that to make you live an easier life. Now that I know I was only making things harder for you, why would I keep doing it?” She sighed, resting her head face down on the railing in front of her, staring silently at the floor for a while. “I guess that makes sense. And I don’t have any strange gaps in my memory like I used to. That.. was you making me forget stuff, I think. Some people just don’t care about others’ opinions, you know?” she explained, “I just wanted to know if you listened to me about that at the very least.”

I nodded, understanding. Slowly, I shifted back upright. It had to be scary — realizing that someone could take a part of your life away without you even knowing about it, or knowing what that piece of your life was for that matter. “I swear on my life that I haven’t controlled you since the night you called me out on it,” I promised. Erica’s head lifted, and she scrutinized my expression, searching for the truth. “I believe you,” she said after a brief silence. “And if I need anything in the future, like.. I don’t know.. Iike how you forced John to leave me alone, or when you stopped me from getting in a drunken accident a week ago, you’ll still be here, right?”

“I’ll be around,” I answered. “Every day I’ll come over here for a minute or two, probably right before I go to bed. I’ll come check on you, and if you need anything, you can let me know, and I’ll see what I can do. How does that sound?” Erica let out a relieved breath, “It sounds like the right way to help me fix my life. Thank you. I- I guess it was wrong of me to tell you I wanted you to stop controlling people, end of story, because I agree that it is a useful ability. So maybe you should only do it if I ask you to? I don’t know, it just.. it scares me.” I so badly wanted to hug her. My hands twitched at the thought, inching closer before realizing she probably wouldn’t enjoy my giant form encroaching in her small space.

Hesitantly, I brought a hand over to the balcony and reached out a single finger instead. “You shouldn’t have to be scared when I do that. I want you to know for certain that I will never ever even try to control you.” Erica stepped backwards in concern, unsure what I intended to do as I got closer. When I paused right in front of her, her eyes widened slightly, and she stared at the outstretched digit in awe. Slowly, Erica’s gaze lifted to meet mine. “It’s alright,” I told her softly. With a shaking hand, Erica reached out and delicately put her hand over the pad of my upturned finger, mouth dropping open slightly in wonder. She dazedly traced the swirling marks of my fingerprint, shook by something so much larger in scale.

A brief moment later, I took back my arm, leaving Erica standing there speechless. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I promised, “to check on you like you asked.” I backed off the cliffside and smiled at her hopeful gaze. After a small goodbye, I left for my own world with Erica still standing wide-eyed on her balcony.

The following few months were filled with similar affairs. Erica and I got together for a few meals, and she’d started letting me in on a few things that had been happening in her life that she’d previously kept hidden. She admitted she’d been afraid that I’d mess with things again if she told me about them — a subtle hint to the fact that she was no longer afraid of my ability to do so, and realized that I really did never intend to use it on her again.

Once we even had an accidental meeting when her car died in the back roads by her house. It was deathly hot out now that summer was coming, and without any air conditioning, it was stifling. Thankfully, I came by a little while after the car died. I’d already been to her house and decided to walk back through the mountains where there was a bit more of a breeze, only to find Erica’s very noticeable car on the side of the road there. Erica had been halfway passed out from the heat by the time I found her. Her phone had died as she tried to call a towing company because she spent all her time trying to find a well-reviewed one.

Hesitantly, I'd asked if she wanted me to get someone to help, but she strongly refused, knowing that meant I'd have to control someone again. Even when her life might depend on it, Erica refused to break her own rules — something I seemed to be in the habit of doing, though I was getting better at it. All she’d done was tell me: "I'd be too nervous sitting in someone else's car while you're controlling them," and I immediately halted mid-argument. If Erica wasn’t comfortable with it, then neither was I.

I ended up taking the car back to the house with her inside it — a quick transport to the air-conditioned mansion. Erica was thankful for the lift, even though she didn’t approve of my methods whatsoever. I had to argue with her for fifteen minutes straight just to convince her that I wouldn’t accidentally drop her. Erica claimed she nearly had a heart attack when I picked up the vehicle without warning. Still, she thanked me with a gift: a bottle of champagne.

“My last bottle of alcohol in the house,” Erica admitted, “It’s yours.” She handed me the tiny bottle, which couldn’t have been more than an inch long. “I’m finally going sober.” Erica beamed up at me; her eyes shone with an excitement I'd never seen before, even when I showed up to meals with oversized food from my own world. Ever since I’d brought her that sandwich, it was like she’d finally realized that I had a whole world full of comparatively gigantic things. Many of my recent trips, I’d brought along either food or an item for Erica to mess with. She’d practically fainted when I came with a full-sized tube of lipstick a few days ago. It was nearly as tall as she was, and she’d made a huge mess of it when she tried to use it herself, staining her outfit red, permanently.

Now, I stared down at the tiny champagne bottle in my hands, feeling the same strange wonder of seeing something normal at an entirely different scale. "How about you start that tomorrow?" I asked, referring to Erica’s remark about being sober, "Go inside and get yourself a glass, will you?" Erica nodded happily and disappeared into the mansion, returning with one of her champagne glasses. She took the bottle from me and poured herself a cup, carefully handing it back so it wouldn't spill. Taking the bottle between two fingers, I held it up to Erica's glass. "Cheers," I announced, "to you finally getting your life back." "Oh, I'll definitely drink to that," Erica remarked, clinking her glass with mine before taking a sip. I took the wine bottle and poured the entire thing into my mouth. It was barely more than a sip, but it tasted good. It occurred to me then that I wasn’t supposed to be drinking alcohol; I was only a few months into being eighteen. It wasn’t much, and I didn’t really care, but still.

It also occurred to me that I had no idea how old Erica was. She didn’t look that much older than me, but I’d never asked. “Erica,” I began, resting myself on the edge of the cliff so my head was even with the patio. “How old are you?” She froze mid-sip and glanced over at me. “Why do you ask?” “I just realized that I technically shouldn’t even be drinking alcohol at my age. Not that I mind the tiny amount I got from this bottle,” I added with a shrug. “Are you.. I mean… You’re out drinking all the time, so I assume you’re at least twenty-one, right?” The look of guilt that sprung to her face immediately made me think otherwise. “W- Well how old are you?” I shook my head, “You first.” “I’m.. I’m only twenty,” she confessed, “but legal drinking age is.. like.. eighteen so… Yeah. Now answer my question.”

It took a moment for me to respond after that. Not only was I unsure whether she was lying about the age a person could drink in her world, I realized that when I first saw her a year before, absolutely wasted in the parking lot, trying to break into a car she’d mistaken for her own — she was only nineteen. In my book, that was too young an age for her to be in that situation, and way too young an age to be in the situation with John in the alleyway.

“Alexis?” Erica asked questioningly. Her voice held the tiniest tinge of fear in it. “I’m eighteen,” I told her. My junior year of high school’s almost over.” She nodded, “Unpopular opinion, but I actually liked high school.” As I voiced my opinion against her own, claiming she probably just wasn’t remembering it clearly as a joke, I noticed her look darken for a moment, but chose not to press her about it. I changed the topic entirely and made some small talk for a bit before we parted ways for the night. I kept the empty champagne bottle as a souvenir, rubbing it thoughtfully between my fingers in bed that night. "Cheers," I whispered to myself, "to finally getting things right.

#good old g/t bonding time #(and a lil bit of Alexis messing up for flavor)#other-world universe #g/t #giant tiny

33 notes · View notes

chiomaus · 8 months

Text

reflections

less than one week now until i move into my flat. the referencing got approved yesterday (thank god). there were no reasons it shouldn't get approved but it was still a constant low-level of stress that really wore me down.

going through all my belongings, in particular the little things i brought back from germany last year and had tactically hidden away, has left me feeling a little pensive. i think what i'm most sad about is that i can't enjoy my memories of that time. i can't even look at my photos – even the ones without people in them – which kinda sucks.

i know i will be able to enjoy those memories eventually and that's also why made a point not to throw anything away. one day it will be a time of my life that i can look back on fondly even if it didn't end well. and it's also why i want to go back to germany on my own. i want to make my own memories and i want to prove to myself i can do it on my own.

in other more boring news: i've ordered all the "essentials" i need for the move. nice cookware, toaster, kettle, etc. i'm determined not to live like a student again. i want to surround myself with nice things, whether those be new or second-hand. unfortunately this means that i will have no furniture outside of what i currently have at home, which is: a desk, a bed, 2x sets of shelves.

i'd rather be thinking about what cool art i can put up on the walls and what stylish furniture i can find, but once i'm moved in my immediate concerns will be a washing machine, microwave and sofa. the washing machine sucks big time because it's such a boring but such an EXPENSIVE appliance. and sadly i promised the lettings agents three months rent up front to secure the flat (trying to look on the bright-side of this one as "i won't have to pay rent for three months").

overall i am feeling really positive about the move and i am excited, but right now i am just feeling pretty stressed and tired all the time. i don't have a lot of mental space OR physical space, because there are boxes everywhere. it's manageable because i pretty much have a STOP BEING STRESSED date for next friday. all my stuff will still be in boxes but it will be spread around 61 square meters of space rather than a single room (it's only a 1 bed flat, but it feels so BIG).

i'm also staying positive by thinking about my plans for this year. the main one and the one i am most excited for is our international friend group meet up, with people (hopefully) travelling from the US, norway and germany (and a few hours away in england). most are people i got the meet last year but there are a few new faces i am really excited to meet in person.

planning for my cologne trip can recommence once i am moved. i didn't like having to pause that one because it was a really nice distraction when i was busy being sad. i will probably go in either spring or autumn – whenever is outside the school holidays. this will be the first time i've ever gone on holiday by myself. also debating doing a long weekend or something just to visit the christmas markets, by which point i should be B1 level or even B2.

my nephew is due any day now and i'm excited to be an aunt. hopefully i can take a trip to visit at some point. there will also be my brother's wedding later this year. in general, i do like weddings, but it's not going to live up to last year's poland wedding or my friends' wedding.

been trying to write this post for a while now and i just finally found the (many) words. anyway, that's where i am at the moment.

7 notes · View notes

safic4-m · 2 years

Text

🤍I came back for you

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Fem Lector

Author's Note: For the love of god my fucking applications are open, I only ask to comply with the posting that is posted in my profile.

Y/n fights for Larissa

Word count: 883

~Master list~

One-shot

Wattpad

You feel a sharp prick in your neck and your mind goes to the only person you've ever loved. You take Larissa as an anchor, transporting you to where she is but something went wrong and you end up on the outskirts of Nevermore.

You quickly start your run looking for the woman, you check her officer, room, classrooms, common areas; you start to despair for not finding her anywhere and you try again, this time appearing in the greenhouse.

You fall by her side taking her lifeless body in your arms while tears fall freely down your face.

-Rissa,- you plead, clinging to her body.

Unconsciously your power begins to work absorbing all life around you, killing the plants in the greenhouse, as you bring Larissa back to life.

The woman wakes with a jolt before falling unconscious from the physical toll of it all.

-----

You see the woman kneeling in front of you and your eyes fill with tears knowing that you will have to turn her away.

-Larissa I...- feeling a strong pain in your heart -I can't do it- you say with your voice breaking at the end.

-It's okay honey, I'll wait for you when you're ready,- standing up and coming closer to you.

-It's not that,- leaving space between you and taking courage to end this, -We have to end it,- holding back the urge to cry.

After that Larissa left your house with a broken heart, if it were up to you you would have accepted her proposal, happy to be able to form a life together; but if you really loved her, you had to do it for her own well being.

By the next day there was no longer any trace of you in Jericho, you had disappeared during the night leaving behind the only person you had ever loved.

You come out of your thoughts when you hear a groan, turning to look at Larissa, as she regains consciousness.

-Take it easy,- internally debating whether you should leave her alone.

-What are you doing here?" she asks angrily as you receive a death stare from her.

-I came back for you,- you say forcing a smile.

She simply looks away trying to hide her eyes that are starting to fill with tears.

-I'm so sorry for all the pain I caused you,- sitting down next to her, -I deserve that you hate me, but I would have hated myself more if I had let them find you,- tracing meaningless patterns on your leg, -as long as we were together it was only a matter of time before they came for you...".

An awkward silence is created as your words hang in the air.

-I think you'll be happy to know that Marilyn or Lauren is dead," getting off the bed to leave.

Larissa stands there, not knowing what to do with what you had told her, all this time she wanted to know the reason why you ended the relationship and now that she knew the answers she had no idea what to do with it.

From the beginning she knew it was going to be difficult, when she met you you were cold and distant with everyone, not letting anyone break through the walls you had built. But somehow Larissa managed to break down one by one until she got to the purest part of you and had realized that it was actually your way of protecting yourself from the rest of the world.

She was aware that you had a rather dark past, which you simply preferred not to talk about and she respected that, but to learn that because of this same past was the reason why you abandoned her was a heavy blow.

------

Weems was standing in front of the house in which you two had shared good times years ago, it looked exactly the same as the last time, it hurt her to know that she would never see you again, you were just gone...again.

-Larissa,- she hears a voice behind her.

She turns around, finding you there with some bags in your hands.

-I thought you had left,- surprised at your presence.

-I have nowhere else to go and technically the house is mine.

They stand there looking at each other, there were so many things to say that none of them dared to take the first step, a strong wind makes them shiver, inviting her to come in.

-I'll make some tea,- in an attempt not to be alone with her.

You stand in front of the stove as you try to process why she is here, you had ruined it a year ago, why will your house come.

-Why did you do it?- asks a voice behind you.

-They were very close to finding me and I was afraid that...- being interrupted by Larissa.

-I don't mean that, why did you bring me back?

-For all these years you were the reason to keep fighting...I couldn't let you go,- turning to look at her and holding her gaze upward.

-I don't know whether to trust you,- he replies, looking away.

-Then I will take it upon myself to show you every day that you can do it," approaching her and taking one of her hands.

Regaining trust in someone meant demonstrating with actions that things could be different, as well as time; but you would make sure to spend every second of your life proving to Larissa that she could trust you.

#wenesday #wednesday netflix #principal weems #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie x reader

107 notes · View notes

longjiaojiao · 11 months

Note

SERIOUSLY GO FUCKING KILL YOURSELF YOU WORTHLESS FAT FUCKING PEDO CUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GO FUCKING CUNTING **DO IT**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I PROMISE ILL MAKE YOUR WORTHLESS FUCKING LIFE A LIVING FUCKING NIGHTMARE IF YOU DONT FUCKING KILL YOUR WORTHLESS UGLY FAT SLUTTY ASS SELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GO ON,GO FUCKING **KILL YOURSELF** CUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **PLEASE JUST FUCKING DO IT,UGLY WHORE**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THINK OF HOW WORTHLESS YOU TRULY GENUINELY ARE AND DONT THINK OF DEATH JUST FUCKING SERIOUSLY KILL YOURSELF WITHOUT FUCKING THINKING YOU WORTHLESS FUCKSTAIN MISTAKE!!!!!! **YOUR MOM SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU WERE HER BIGGEST FUCKING MISTAKE SHE EVER FUCKING MADE IN HER WHORE ASS LIFE**!!!!!!!!!!!!! STAB YOUR FUCKING SELF IN THE HEART AND THROAT YOU FUCKING WEAK PUSSY BE BRAVE AND FUCKING DO IT YOU UGLY FUCKING WHORE. YOULL NEVER TAKE ME THE FUCK DOWN UNLESS YOU FUCKING **KILL YOURSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO ITTTTTTTTTT**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **FUCKING KILL YOURSELF WORTHLESS FAT CUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!** IM NOT STOPPING OR GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL YOU FUCKING KILL YOURSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO IT WEAK SCARED COWARDLY PUSSY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGLY FUCKING CUNT HOPE I HIT A NERVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The reason I find I need to take a stand on this is that I find myself feeling guilty for not replying to you. So even if you don't read this message, I'm going to do it.

Firstly, I would like to make it clear that this information from you does not affect me in the slightest, and the reason for this is that I have no cultural background in English at all. Yes, I know the content of what you said was bad, but I couldn't feel the emotion behind it. It's as if I'm eating a classic regional dish, a food that may remind someone of their hometown, of their childhood, and whether it's a positive or a negative emotion, there is an emotional value behind the dish. But I can't taste it as such because I haven't had memories of the dish. These words of yours are just like that, with flavour, but without emotion.

Secondly, I would like to say that the current social situation is so volatile, and the well-being of individuals is in the hands of international politicians, that each of us has reason to feel insecure. If you are facing any kind of anxiety and feel threatened by strangers on the internet, please seek help. Political anxiety and personal anxiety are both understandable. I don't think you'll really satisfy yourself by spreading negative language, it'll only carve hate into your own subconscious over and over again.

One last thing, I'm not trying to argue with the hater here. Sloganised vocabulary doesn't require the use of your brain, so by saying that you're not actually thinking at all, you've lost the ability to solve things independently in this action. The less you know the more absolute you are about what you believe, you simply won't have heard of any other solution. So this isn't a debate, I just hope that you really are going through mental issues or life problems in your life, and if I'm not mentally disturbed and also happen to help pry a little bit of your set-in-stone state of mind, it's all worth it, I've even gained a little bit of conceited fulfilment in you :D, so thanks, and hope you have a great day.

12 notes · View notes

moonchild-things · 9 months

Text

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Stepping Stone

Summary: Shōyō Hinata loves volleyball! There is no doubt that all he really thinks about is volleyball. His sister, however, isn’t the same way. Sakura is ready to start her first year of high school at Karasuno with her twin brother and doesn’t really want to do anything, unlike Shōyō. Though she can’t help it when she gets dragged into the antics of the volleyball club.

Word Count: 3738

Blog Masterlist | Red Herring Masterlist | Last Chapter | Next Chapter

A/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR WELCOME TO 2024! I got back from a family vacation to Aruba so my mind is still on vacation mode lol I finished a chapter tho!

---

THE SAME OLD, SAME OLD WAS HAPPENING in the Karasuno photography club. Wada Katski and Ito Miki were arguing, not surprising. It had started with Shimada telling the club about the finishing touches for the set up and layout for the gallery that was about an hour away from starting. Then Wada had made a suggestion, one that Ito disagreed with, and then the bickering ensued.

Sakura had already tuned the pair out as she’s gotten used to it by now. Besides she had her own internal debate to deal with right now. When she had first been given the topic for this gallery, there was an instant idea that popped into her head. Who did she really find inspiration? Who did she see as her hero? That was obviously her brother. People might think that it was cute for her to think of her twin brother as her hero and looked up(more like down) to him and his passions. Though after their fight, after her own realization, she found herself seeing that her constant need to have him a part of every aspect of her life and vice versa was not too healthy.

It left quite a bit of a bitter taste in her mouth, if she were to be honest. She was obviously going to keep this topic for her entry into the gallery. It was too late for her to change it. Though it wasn’t like she really wanted to. Even if they had this fight, it didn't mean she didn't value him any less.

If anything, she was using this moment as a stepping stone, at least in her eyes. One of the last odes to her brother before she finally goes all in on finding who she is as a person. A dedication to him, going to the Tokyo practice camp as her one last volleyball adventure for them both also being a part of that. Perhaps she should have said that she wasn’t going to go. Just like the last training camp, she didn’t really think that there was a need for her to be there. Getting a few photos would be nice, but she didn’t have to be there the entire time.

That was something she usually wondered about. Why Ukai and Takeda let her tag along for so long. It wasn’t like she was a manager or anything. She didn’t provide all too much, in her eyes, to the team besides helping Yachi and Kiyoko with some managerial stuff. Perhaps she made some comments about the guys and how they played, but nothing more. Maybe they had her there because she was a good way to reign in her brother and Kageyama sometimes. Whatever the reason is, she didn’t really care. She got the opportunity to be with her brother, and she was grateful for that. Though she certainly wouldn’t be asking to go along after this one. Doubt she’d really be missed, she might miss getting to see Kiyoko and the others she tolerated most days, but it would have to happen. The real question was whether she would miss it herself.

Just as Sakura was going to continue over-thinking things about her and her brother, it seemed like the bickering that had been happening in the background had suddenly become nonexistent. Looming over the once arguing pair, the angelic Mori was giving them a closed-eyed smile. Quite a menacing aura surrounding her and stealing the breath from the others in the room.

“I think that the layout would look better with Yokoyama placed here, Ito, Shimada, Wada, Hinata and myself.” She gave them all an angelic smile that had an edge to it. Despite giving them a pleasant expression, they all knew that she was daring any of them to speak up again. A silent threat that no one wanted to see her make a promise. It caused them all to shiver, even Sakura who never really gets scared by anything.

Shimada clapped her hands loudly, causing the others to jump, “well, with that settled, we should get these to the art club too. Wada take these to them, please.”

The boy pouted, “Oh, why me?” Though he did just take the papers from her without saying anything else.

“Because you annoyed me the most, now let’s go!” Wada, sulking just a little bit, but doing as he was told. As he left, Ito stuck her tongue out at him, just being as childish as possible. Shimada then spun to scold her, “Ito! Stop antagonizing him! Now you and Yokoyama make sure that the displays are all set.”

Yokoyama stood up and saluted, “yes, ma’am.” So they grabbed Ito and started to drag her away to do as they were told. All the while, the mousy second-year was complaining about Wada as they went. Though after the two start going, it’s normal for Ito to start whining about him.

So that left Shimada, Mori and Sakura in the club room. With most of the preparations more or less done, besides some odds and ends that have to be taken care of, things were going smoothly as usual. That meant that the president and vice-president could relax. So while the others were tying up those loose ends, Shimada took this as an opportunity to slide over to Sakura.

“So are you excited?” She asked the younger girl, “Last time you were obviously quite anxious about it, so you must have gotten over your nerves this time!”

Sakura pursed her lips, “That’s not entirely how it works. But I am less nervous this time.” The initial fear of showing others her work was more or less overcome last time. She had grown confident enough in herself and her photography to be in the gallery. So it certainly wasn’t like she was going to be nervous about it this time.

“Great!” Shimada smiled, nearly jumping for joy. Obviously, she was happy for her underclassmen and her getting over her nerves. The last thing that she would want is for Sakura to end up as nervous as she was last time. “You’ll definitely enjoy this one more, I think.”

She shrugged her shoulders, “maybe.” Though she knew that Shimada was right. However, she wouldn’t want to admit that Shimada was right to her face, that would just cause the older girl’s ego to grow bigger. Sakura definitely doesn't need that, in her opinion.

Shimada nodded her head, content with her underclassmen’s lack of nerves over this. “I’m gonna finish up anything and make sure the set up is the right way.” With a short pat on Sakura’s head, Shimada skipped out of the room to supervise anything that she could find to keep herself occupied.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mori’s angelic voice asked, now that it was just her and Sakura in the room. She sat down on the chair in front of Sakura with a slightly apprehensive, yet encouraging, expression on her porcelain face. “I know that your subject is probably going to be a bit… awkward to talk about.”

Sakura thought for a moment, really trying to think about this. Yes, the subject of her photos, her hero, really was going to be awkward to talk about. Even more so if he did actually show up to the gallery. It certainly was a thought that had crossed her mind. More like it hadn’t really left her mind all too much. She cleared her throat, “I’m more than happy with who I chose as my hero. It's not like I could lie to myself about who I have viewed as my hero for basically my entire life, you know.” She drummed her fingers on the table in front of her. “My hero has always been my brother. He’s resilient and stubborn, determined and certainly never one to back down from a challenge. He’s also quite an idiot, but he has his moments.”

Mori gave her a sweet smile, “having a brother you admire is adorable, you know.” There are times that Mori wished that she had siblings. Younger or older, brother or sister, it didn’t matter to her. Though she then hears some stories about her friends and their siblings that makes her glad to not have one. Still doesn’t stop her from thinking about what it would be like.

She supposed that she could see her closest friends as siblings. Shimada was very much a sister to her, since they had joined the photography club in their first-year. The others who have come and gone in their little club held a place in her heart. She values her friends as much as she would family. Sakura certainly was a part of that sentiment too, even if they weren’t that close with each other. Mori was more than aware that Sakura liked to keep to herself, only opening up every once in a while. Shimada had really taken the younger girl under her wing, and Sakura really confided in her the most. So attempting to have a bit of a heart-to-heart with her, Mori figured that it was going to be a bit more difficult than with others. Though it was going pretty well for the time being.

Sakura blushed at her words, “Well, it’s not like he’s actually going to come to see it.”

There was a bitter undertone to her words. One that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit to. Either way she could still taste how sour her mood and words were. It definitely wasn’t pleasant. She did want her brother to be there for her, to support her in the same way that she has supported him. He has encouraged her and been to the first gallery, but who knew if he was going to be at this one. They hadn’t been talking to each other, at least the way that they usually have. So there was no telling if he would come to this. Sakura really hoped he did, even if she was still a bit annoyed with him.

Mori nodded her head, “Still, whether he’s there or not, you’re going to do amazing. He should be proud of you regardless.”

It wasn’t necessarily about if Sakura thought her brother was going to be proud of her or not. She is more than assured in the idea that no matter what argument or disagreement that the two could be in they would never stop supporting each other. No matter what he might say to her, or vice-versa, they would help each other achieve their goal. This misunderstanding wasn’t going to stop them from being family. They really just needed a moment. Though that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less.

So this was that moment, a stepping-stone for both of the teens to skip their way onto a new chapter of their lives. A time where they could develop themselves in the right way as individuals. It could be hard right now, however, it certainly would have some happy outcomes at some point.

Sakura let out a heavy sigh, “I just figured… This is a point that we can move onto a new point in our life. After this and the Tokyo camp, I think it’s best that Shōyō and I… do our own things. Actually, do our own things.”

“A good step forward.” Mori cheered her on. While she didn’t completely know how Sakura was feeling about this or her brother, she really hoped that this was a good thing for the both of them. The last thing that they would need is for something like this to just hurt them further. Mori didn’t want to see her good friend hurt or worse because of the relationship with her brother deteriorating further.

---

Tsukishima shouldn’t be here. Really he shouldn’t. Whatever had possessed him to walk towards the commotion by the art club, was completely unknown to him. He already knew what was going on there, since he had been here for the last gallery that they had. Though that time he didn’t really have a choice. The entire team had wanted to go, and Yamaguchi had asked him to come with. Of course, he went.

Perhaps that was due to his own curiosity. He had wanted to see what Sakura had done, and how he could bully her for it. Then again, his mind flashed to the last gallery when he tried to do the same thing.

He wasn’t exactly expecting her to stand up for herself. It kind of annoyed him. He couldn’t really get too much of a good gauge on what she was about. Yes, he knew that she was protective of her brother, that she would stand up for him no matter what. However, after having her stare him down and tell him that she was confident in herself and her work definitely threw a wrench in his mind. He thought that she would be an easy target, much like her brother, and he hates that she’s quite the enigma.

So maybe it was his curiosity gnawing at him again, or some sadistic part of his mind that wanted to try and bully her again. Still there was a smarter part of his mind yelling that it really wasn’t going to work. So why the hell was he peaking at the exhibits that people were gushing about?

As usual, there weren’t all too many people at the gallery, but that didn’t mean any of the students were less than excited. Art students were explaining their work to others, enthusiastic to show off their work. Just about everyone was more than happy to explain their work and process to anyone who was willing to listen. The only one who seemed to be not as enthusiastic was Sakura.

He watched as she talked a bit to an eccentric third-year next to her. If he remembered correctly, that was Shimada-senpai, the president of the photography club. He doesn’t know much about the older girl, never really caring to know about anyone in this club. Then again, he could care less to know about anyone else that he didn’t deem necessary. Hell, if he didn’t have to know most of his team, he knows his life would be easier.

He did his best to spy into the room and see her work. Not wanting to be seen by her and questioned why he was there, he needed to make sure that she wouldn't see him. The last thing he needs is her smug face looking up at him because he was caught.

He rolled his eyes when he saw the few shots that she was displaying. Her brother. Of course they were of him. Who else would they be about? Apparently there was something about Heroes for this gallery's theme. Not that he was really paying too much attention. Though it didn't surprise him that it was her brother that she used for her hero. Everything in her life was about him, so why would this be any different?

“Why don’t you go in?”

Tsukishima jumped a bit at the sudden voice next to him. He certainly wouldn’t admit it but it nearly gave him a heart attack. Perhaps he was too stuck in his own head to realize anyone could walk up on him. He turned to see that it was Yamaguchi.

The green-haired boy smiled at him and asked again, “Do you want to go in?”

Tsukishima grunted and turned away from his friend, “No.” He could see Yamaguchi’s expression and didn't like it all too much. It seemed like he was going to tease him about something, and it bothered him.

“I'm sure Sakura would be glad to see people she knows coming to see her work!”

Tsukishima scoffed, “I'm not here to see whatever she's done.”

Yamaguchi blinked, a tad bit confused, “so why are you standing out here like a creep?”

“I'm not being a creep!”

“So you’re just watching Sakura from afar for…?” He raised an eyebrow, proving his point that Tsukishima was being a bit creepy.

“She’s annoying,” Tsukishima clicked his tongue.

His friend gave him a look, one that frustrated Tsukishima. Yamaguchi pursed his lips, “That isn’t an answer.”

He huffed harshly trying to say the right thing. “I don’t get how she’s able to annoy me so much. Her idiotic brother is easy to read… But I can’t understand her.” Even after being around her for a few months, he still hasn't come up with exactly how she worked. She got into

Yamaguchi tilted his head, “So you came here to understand her?”

Had he come here because of that? Then again what was he going to understand from her by watching her from outside? “It just felt strange that she wasn’t at the practices.”

His friend’s eyes widened, “Have you been missing her?”

Tsukishima glared at him though he didn’t say anything. No. He wasn’t missing her. What was there to miss?! Though if he did go in, she would undoubtedly pester him about him showing up. Tsukishima didn’t want to have to explain himself since he wasn’t even sure why he was there. Sakura got under his skin in a way that no one else has. Tsukishima sees most people as idiots, especially the likes on his team. However, Sakura wasn’t really an idiot. He could admit that she was smart, perhaps as smart as him, though he couldn’t pinpoint why she was just… different.

“Well,” Yamaguchi said, breaking Tsukishima from his thoughts, “I’m going to go and say hi to her. If you want to keep admiring her from afar, you can.”

Tsukishima jumped at the implication, “Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.” Though with the tone of voice and teasing smile on his lips, Yamaguchi didn’t seem to actually be apologizing. He seemed to be happy in this moment to tease his friend, which he rarely ever gets to do. Though he knows just how funny Tsukishima can get sometimes about Sakura. There was an inkling that Yamaguchi had a feeling as to why. Though he was going to leave it alone for the time being, since he isn’t even sure.

Tsukishima was then left to stew with his own thoughts. He watched as Yamaguchi walked up to Sakura, and the two shared some smiles as they talked about the gallery. The way that Sakura’s face brightened at the sight of her friend didn’t sit right in Tsukishima’s head, and he wasn’t sure why.

Perhaps he was envious. Sakura had a great relationship with her brother, if not a bit too good. Was that something he wanted? Was that why his chest was tight when he thought about her smirk and narrowed eyes? Not that he should care. He gritted his teeth before marching off. Tsuikishima didn't need to worry about this. It would just annoy him further. Though it wasn't like she left his mind right away. She lingered behind in his mind and he hated that. She really was annoying him.

While on the court, Tsukishima knew that he couldn’t compare himself to Shōyō. That little ball of sunshine was the star of the court, while Tsukishima was just a stand in until Shōyō was needed again. However, when he found out about Sakura, he had thought that he could say that he was better than her. She wasn’t athletic, so he could say that he had that over her. Academic-wise, they were more or less on the same level. However, after at least figuring out that she was insecure about her photography, he felt gratification to know he could bully her for it. Maybe it was wrong of him, he only ever really did it to take his frustrations about her brother out on her. Though he didn’t care. Why would he? Though after time has passed and he’s had a moment of time without her snarky remarks in the gym… he missed it. And he couldn’t put his finger on why…

Elsewhere, also doing his best to go unnoticed, a certain decoy was hiding amongst the small crowd in the gallery. He thanked his height at this moment as he was able to keep himself from being spotted by his sister. He had wanted to come here to see what she did since she had been excited the last time they properly talked.

Shōyō knew the theme of the gallery. How serious Sakura took these topics to heart and how important they were. He wasn't going to miss out on it, even if they weren't exactly on talking terms. He is always excited to see her happy about her work, so why would he miss out on this? Though it certainly warmed his heart, yet struck his chest with a wave of guilt, as he saw the photos that she had taken of him.

He knew that Sakura looked up to him. As she should, in his mind. He’s the big brother, so he wants to be a hero for both of his sisters. To make sure that they are safe and happy was one of his greatest goals in life. Of course, he had his personal journey to become the next Little Giant, however, his family also came first.

Their argument was taking a toll on him. Shōyō had been reflecting on their childhood most of the time. Wrapping his head around what Sakura had said about wanting to be her own person seemed to be a bit more difficult than he thought. Their whole life, he thought that Sakura was happy. He thought that she was content with how they were never really apart. How bad of a brother is he to not have seen that?

Though after this, he was going to try. He wanted to try to completely understand what Sakura was feeling, how he could help her, and what they would do going forward. Sure, he doesn’t really see her issue all too much, but he wants to. Shōyō wants to listen to her and see where things went wrong. Maybe then she wouldn’t want to abandon him. So with the last fleeting look at his sister as she talked happily with Yamaguchi, Shōyō headed to find his bike. He had to head home to get ready for their trip for the camp. After tomorrow, he definitely was going to do what he could to make sure that Sakura really was okay.

---

Blog Masterlist | Red Herring Masterlist | Last Chapter | Next Chapter

A/n: Ngl the chapter feels disjointed. I had something, then rewrote it entirely because it just felt wrong, and then I tried again but I wrote some of it a different times. So this chapter isn't that good. Has to be one of my worst lmao Either way next chapter is finally the Tokyo camp arc!! WOOO! Really my favorite arcs from the anime! I'm so excited! Let me know what you thought. Until the next chapter, my friends!

#ocs #fanfiction #multiple ocs #fanfic #oc #female oc #female!oc #male oc #male!oc #anime fanfiction #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu oc #haikyuu #anime

5 notes · View notes

thatbrightblueshine · 1 year

Text

I've been debating with myself on whether or not i should make this post for a while now since it doesn't have much to do with this blog and i don't really post personal things on here, but i want to talk about how the england nt has pretty much saved my life last winter.

i had done really badly mentally last year, for months on end my mental state had gotten so bad that i simply didn't FEEL anything at all anymore. i was just empty. it had gotten to the point where i didn't know if i would make it through the rest of the year anymore, i wasn't able to attend work anymore regularly (thankfully my work was very supportive since i have worked for the same company for several years now) and on some days i couldn't make it out of bed anymore. i had nothing left that brought me joy, nothing to live for and i thought that's what the end looks like. after years of struggling i had finally hit rock bottom and as bad as it may sound, i thought one of these days was going to be my last.

that was until the night of december 10th 2022 came. now, before explaining that any further, i had supported the england national team since the euros 2016, when i had still lived in england and went to france with my friend to attend one of the games. then throughout the world cup 2018 and the euros 2020, i was there supporting and loving the hell out of this team. i had been a football fan since i was little, first supporting barça and then later on falling head over heels for man city (maybe in 2012?). i played as a kid but somehow fell out with it as i got older, something i still kind of regret, but nevertheless, football had always been in my life one way or another. international tournaments had always been what i looked forward to for months in advance ever since the euros 2016, just to see, support and love the england team. but due to the fact that i had fallen into this deep, black hole last year, i didn't even care for the world cup anymore. i watched the england games but it didn't feel the same. nothing made me feel joy anymore.

so fast forward to the night of december 10th. it was the exit of the england team from the world cup, unfortunately, but something simply flipped a switch within me as harry kane had fucked up the penalty. i felt anger, frustration, sadness, you name it. and i didn't realise it at first but - i had FELT something. after feeling nothing but emptiness for several months on end. in a way the exit of the england team from world cup is the reason i'm still here today, as silly as it may sound. it also helped me parting with the thing that had brought me so much sorrow back then, i don't want to go in on detail about that but i had met someone through a mutual interest that i thought was my person and the interest we shared was the only thing that had really kept us together and talking and so i had built my whole life around that interest and the person and it broke me more and more everyday, on top of how badly i had already felt. but i didn't realise that - i thought the thing and the person were all i lived for and that there was nothing else left. but luckily i was wrong.

this post is more of a rant really, but also a massive thank you to the england team for somehow managing to help through the toughest time of my life. everyday i'm thankful they exist ❤️

#my rant #england nt

6 notes · View notes

diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl · 4 months

Text

a little quarrel under the northern lights - law boy pt 2

Since this is my online diary which no one in my small realm of people knows exists, I feel very comfortable revealing my honest, very biased, and naked truths on this matter.

At this point with law boy, there has been a little phone tag between the two of us - both of us asking to hang out, but neither of us really willing to sacrifice anything to see each other. I'm not going to not hang out with my roommates and he, for some reason that I would kill to know the truth to, won't see me past the early time of 10:30 PM on week days.

When Friday rolled around, he texted me in a very cocky and confident manner saying "let's link tonight :)" which irked me, but at this point, my mentally ill self was already infatuated with the rare concept of having any sort of feelings towards another person. I would love to tell you that I said no or that I insisted on a date or that I just didn't respond, but I'm fairly certain my response lays under the lines of "let's".

Knowing that we were hanging out around 7:30 PM that day, I was with my roommates M, S, and D when they suddenly came to the realization that we were going to be able to clearly see the northern lights from where we lived and even more clearly if we went towards the mountains. Being somebody who wants to take everything from life and the world around me, I was very keen on the idea of driving towards the mountains to see the northern lights then leaving late at night so I wouldn't have to camp. The problems that came with this plan was that law boy was coming over and that I needed somebody else to drive back with me late at night. My other two roommates C and K were interested in the idea, but it sounded like they needed convincing so the idea was ruled out in my head.

When 7:30 PM rolled around, I picked him up and we went back to mine. I ended up putting on a stupid movie where we laid with his arms wrapped around me and his hand tracing my stomach. It's wild because taking out the mornings after, talking with him is the most addicting thing in the world. I think it's the mixture of past intimacy, the ease of being in the same bed, and just who we are that makes everything feel so perfect. I become so keenly aware of how much I'm genuinely laughing and of the feeling of him being unable to contain his laughter and pulling me in closer to him so he can laugh through my hair. I get so addicted to how I feel when I'm talking to him or when he makes me laugh that it becomes impossible for my feelings not to leak and spill all over whatever it is that we have.

Because of being consumed in the movie or whatever we were talking about, time completely slipped my mind. It reached 10:30 when my roommates and I were supposed to leave and I was rested with the idea that I was going to be able to spend the night with him. This was until we were in the middle of making out when I heard my name being called from downstairs. I remember cursing to myself and feeling a slight panic that they would walk in my room and I would suddenly be caught like a teenage girl hiding drugs. I searched for my phone and when I opened it, it was around thirty texts of my three roommates talking about how they now felt the need to go and see the northern lights and that I had to come with.

A big part of me suddenly panicked.

I have a really big issue of a constant internal struggle in my brain. Whether it's what I should cook for dinner, what I should do with my life, or how to respond to a text - my life is consumed with debates.

Let me lay this one out for you. On one hand, I've never seen the northern lights. The fantastic explosion of beautiful colors in the dead of night racing throughout the sky. It was a privilege only some people were granted, and the opportunity for me to see it only an hour away from where I was living seemed too hard to pass up. My roommates also came with expectations that I was already going to go with so there's this external pressure that was weighing on me that I can't choose a guy over the northern lights.

On the other hand, I clearly told law boy I would hang out with him tonight. I would be a complete flake if I bailed. Also, I haven't felt emotions towards another person like these since my first boyfriend. I've tried so many countless of other times, so so many times last year, and it came to no avail. But, here I am, sitting across from law boy with his blonde hair and his cute boyish smile and I have those feelings towards him. The big part of this hand, however, is that he doesn't have those feelings towards me. He sees me as a hook-up, somebody that he can waste the hours with until he has something to do or an LSAT to take.

This is my dilemma.

I'm sitting on my bed, looking through the texts while law boy is looking at me, his head tilted to the side and his eyebrows furrowed as confusion races through his face. He asks me what's wrong and I pour out my situation onto him, telling him that I really want to see the northern lights, but how I feel bad that I'm leaving him when I told him that we would hang out. I see a flash of disappointment cross his eyes so quickly that a big part of me feels as if I imagined it there or maybe hoped that that is what I saw. I make this big deal of it because my brain becomes wired with the debate and I become too overwhelmed. I'm essentially whining to him with my dilemma while texting my roommates to wait just five minutes for me.

Law boy finally decides to make the decision for me. He stands up, asks for a towel, and starts to get dressed. Completely conforming into what he's already doing, I rush towards the bathroom. Then, suddenly, my nose starts bleeding. In the humid parts of May, this happens to me all of the time. Not sure if it's genetics or if how my body is, but I have had so many that it's basically no big deal whatsoever. I was overwhelmed and honestly my nose bleeding was a perfect excuse for doing what I actually wanted to do which was stay in my room with law boy.

I get stuck in the bathroom for around 10 minutes, convincing my roommates to leave without me since I wasn't going to be the reason why they missed the northern lights. It was as if the big man upstairs made the decision for me - I was staying home for the night.

When I got back into the room, I became aware of how overwhelmed I was and how much of a big deal I made over a small inconvenience. He was fully dressed, a joint resting between his fingers, his body halfway outside of the window as he took another hit. I sat next to him, not talking while we were killing the joint.

"I'm sorry to give you whiplash, but I'm actually staying in for the night," I say, putting the joint in my pocket and resting my body on the side of the closet doorframe.

I see him get slightly annoyed as he cocks his head to the side and sits down on my couch. "What? What do you mean? I thought you wanted to see the northern lights. I would feel bad if you didn't," he commented, running a hand through his hair. At this point, I was high and I was so so exhausted from my thoughts and from the past half hour. All I wanted to do was to lay down with him and watch a movie.

"No, I'm staying. Do you want to stay with me or are you already set on leaving?" I ask, fully knowing what I wanted out of the situation.

This was the wrong thing to say because he pushes back, asking what I want. I was fully aware of the big deal that I made from this and the whiplash that I was giving him so I pushed back, saying that I was fine with whatever he wanted to do, but both of us being stubborn future lawyers, he didn't back down.

Feeling exhausted, I conceded and said, "Well, I obviously would want you to stay".

He shoots back that he thinks there's something more going on here and that while I'm clearly very overwhelmed, he thinks that there is "external pressures" that I'm feeling and that I'm not making him aware about.

I become frustrated as I've clearly stated exactly what I want and he's trying to make things mean more then they should. I respond with "The only external pressure that I have is being a people pleaser". This was not the response to make.

Because of the word "people pleaser", he suddenly was set on leaving, mentioning something along the lines of how he had to wake up early the next day (which was Saturday and was complete bs) and that it was already getting late (10:40 PM on a fucking Friday night). I remember feeling a wave of hurt.

I walked out of the room and fell silent, not really grasping how the night slipped away from me so easily. I'm not sure how, but we were able to get in my car and I was able to drop him off. When he left my car, I was left with the eerily familiar feeling of being genuinely hurt by somebody that I cared for.

It was a scenario where I told him what I wanted, that I wanted him to stay twice and somehow he still ended up leaving and I was alone at 11 pm on a Friday night. It must've been because I'm on a down spell from my mental illness, but it felt like a complete sucker punch to the stomach. I could feel my sadness grasping onto my shoulder with its dark and sharp hands and submerging me under. Okay, maybe I shouldn't have smoked.

It was too much for me and I needed to completely pass out that night which I ended up doing.

After that night, I knew I needed to separate myself from him. The feelings that I had towards him is what made our connection and the sex so unbelievably good, but that night I became all too aware of the pain that these feelings could cause me. It suddenly became too much of an easy answer.

I'd rather completely ghost him and not talk to him again then to ask him the question of what are we. Because, I don't believe I could deal with that rejection of the small and impactful word of "nothing".

#diary #ramblings #sex and the city #thoughts #carrie bradshaw

0 notes

denimbex1986 · 5 months

Text

'If I had to pick one piece of advice to give someone who’s on the fence when it comes to watching Ripley, it would be to savor it. Savor it the way that Tom Ripley (Andrew Scott) relishes the Caravaggio paintings displayed among each of the glorious Italian locales he absconds to so he can maintain his freedom and the identity he’s snatched away. Over eight roughly hour-long episodes (the delicious finale clocking in at a hefty 76 minutes), we see Tom spin endless explanations and dance around the many inconsistencies nimbly enough to cast just enough doubt on his guilt to allow the eyes of the police, and others, to look away long enough for him to shimmy out from underneath them and start the process all over again. He’s a con artist, an unrepentant murderer, and wildly overestimates his intelligence, yet I want nothing more than to see him win.

That’s the beauty and power of a character who commits objectively terrible acts with panache: their fictional status gives free license to cheer on their progression in the story. I winced when Tom delivered the killing blow to poor Richard “Dickie” Greenleaf (Johnny Flynn), both for its cold cruelty and Dickie’s utter defenselessness, a man whose biggest crime was being a terrible painter (and a bad judge of character). But my resulting feelings were never in the vein of “I would like to see that man punished for this heinous crime,” but rather, “oh no, the cat killed another mouse, such a brute,” only to allow said cat to rest at the foot of my bed later that evening.

I felt substantially less compassion for Freddie Miles’ (Eliot Sumner) violent end, not because he deserved it—I confess his smugness contributes to the lack of sorrow—but because when it comes to vying for the average audience member’s affection for imaginary characters, a mentally unwell murderer who makes me laugh is going to win out over a snobby rich kid, especially one who’s threatening to put a stop to the good time being had on screen. “Funny” probably isn’t the first, or even the tenth, word to come mind when describing Ripley, but I found myself laughing far more often than I ever would have imagined, whether it was Tom forcing himself to repeatedly confront the punishing number of Italian stairs, the disastrous dumping of Dickie’s body, or the obvious internal debate over whether or not he should kill Marge (Dakota Fanning) for little reason other than the fact that she makes for an annoying roommate.

Admittedly, much of the fascination towards a covetous snake-like Tom Ripley can be laid squarely at Scott’s feet. It’s a pitch-perfect performance, elevated even further by the careful balance he maintains between being an awkward creep and a master manipulator. I’ve heard people liken Tom to an alien, like a creature infiltrating our species, whereas I find Tom to be remarkably human, a refined version of the toddler impulse to take what’s appealing or deemed necessary. Swindling people out of their money is a necessity (arguably), but taking Dickie’s life, in every way that matters, is too appealing to resist.

But if Tom’s horrific actions hook us, his ever-shifting plans afterward keep us on the line. What makes it all the more intriguing is that, although clever, Tom is more fallible than the perpetrator of multiple homicides has any right to be. What’s truly amusing (yet sadly holds true for many real life criminals) is that Tom’s success relies heavily on luck. Some instances are simply a failure when it comes to powers of observation (hotel clerks who neglect to take notice of the mismatching passport photo) while others are a hasty assumption (Marge becoming convinced that Dickie chose to kill himself). Tom’s fortune does strain belief at times—most notably when donning a beard and wig is enough to fool the otherwise sharp investigating detective (Maurizio Lombardi as the often hilarious Inspector Ravini) into believing he’s speaking to someone he’s never met before—but it keeps the suspense humming along nicely.

However, Tom is just competent enough that most of his victories feel earned. It’s the sort of cat and mouse game that I feared would come to an end all-too-soon, lest I’m no longer regaled by the misadventures of this odd but, deep down, slightly relatable man; who among us, after all, has never imagined ourselves possessing something that belongs to someone else? Maybe that’s where the appeal of this breed of villain ultimately lies. As valuable as the one-two combo of writing and performance are, what makes it work beneath it all is the fact that we’re being invited to ask ourselves what we’re capable of in the pursuit of our desires. Maybe it’s less about having sympathy for the devil and more to do with sympathizing with ourselves. Of course, it could simply be that watching people behave badly makes for a hell of a good time.'

#Ripley #Netflix #Andrew Scott #Caravaggio #Marge Sherwood #Dakota Fanning #Dickie Greenleaf #Johnny Flynn #Freddie Miles #Eliot Sumner #Maurizio Lombardi #Inspector Ravini

0 notes

punkscowardschampions · 10 months

Text

Java Pt.2

Ava: [‘how?’ because we dont know your life, all we know is last time you had to leave ASAP and you’ve already been here much longer than that this time, laying our head down on our folded arms and looking up at you whilst you retell us the night’s events, smiling lazily about it]

James: [‘I had to see you, I made arrangements to afford myself the privilege’ matter of factly, like it’s that simple and you and baby Jay weren’t both lowkey traumatised by the manner in which she was flung at her grandparents and left]

Ava: [nodding because you’re well aware he doesn’t owe you any explanation beyond that ‘I appreciate any time we can have together’ because that’s true too, even if you know the reasons he had to see you were not entirely about you, given the state he turned up in]

James: [kissing her softly but dramatically as a me too because hard same, no notes we genuinely are thrilled to be here, hence when he pulls away from it you can see him considering what peak romance activity they should spend their time doing now, because there’s so many options, they could order some food and eat it together either in this bed or downstairs being domestic, they could make some together to be even more so, he could run them/her a bath and read to her, he could stay here and read to her etc etc etc, we all know he’d do it all and wants to, which is making it impossible to decide even if he wasn’t someone who famously isn’t allowed and therefore isn’t used to making decisions ‘I’m considering how we should spend this time though and quite the internal debate has been sparked’ in answer to the question she hasn’t yet asked of what he’s thinking so hard about]

Ava: [grinning ‘that is quite the conundrum’ because truly, so many things you could do and should ‘how about I get us some drinks whilst you carry on verbally jousting yourself?’ wriggling out of this comfortable position you find yourself in to go and do that because haven’t offered him one and you will be parched by now lmao, having a quick look at ourself in whatever mirror we come across on our way towards the door]

James: [my boo says they will be thirsty literally after how thirsty they’ve been for each other and she’s so right haha, using his long limbs once again this time to pull her back slightly, deliberately not all the way back to him and this bed because do want her to go but enough that she does have to pause for him, looking at her yet again in this shirt which will be all creased and collar askew no doubt, so straightening that for her like it really matters what she looks like to go, again it’s giving dad ‘are you hungry?’ because that is one of the options and if he can get her to decide it’s one less choice for him to try and make]

Ava: [coming closer than he pulled you automatically because any excuse, even though you still intend to go, giving him a soft and slow but passionate kiss as he’s fixing your collar for you, temptation to sit back down clearly being fought in how you’re shifting from foot to foot, tugging on the bottom of this shirt ‘we can eat too’ taking his question as a polite way to let her know he is, how you sometimes do ‘what do you like?’ because decides for us whether we’re also making something in the kitchen or ordering something in]

James: [the sound coming out of him is so much more than a happy sigh when she kisses him, it’s fully a contented NOISE as if he missed her so much already because where’s the lie, biting his lip when she asks the question obvs, like oh UM ‘I don’t know, you’ll have to come to a decision about that, in particular, for us’ when that could come across like he’s being a little shit and messing around like idk what do YOU like but he genuinely does not know and thus there’s a honesty and self-consciousness to it letting her know he’s being serious]

Ava: [biting your own lip in an unconscious copycat move because you watched him do that with so much intensity behind it, shaking your head as if to bring yourself back to the conversation at hand and in a no problem kind of way ‘I’ll see what we have in’ because been alone for a long weekend vibe, who’s to say how stocked the pantry is by this point]

James: [‘I’ll assist you’ getting up to do exactly that and thus immediately closing the gap, however small, between them, lowkey towering over her and smiling because you’re aware it’s giving you’re worried she can’t reach the high cupboards without you (which your short af wife actually can’t lol) and that isn’t what you meant because she isn’t a tiny gal and we’re about that, you’re just not the sort of bear to lie here and be waited on to any degree, you’re used to the hardcore opposite, putting what clothes you have left back on, because you can be topless that’s fine but potentially naked chef feels like a lot for soft domestic hours despite knowing y’all are home alone and have been very feral]

Ava: [‘okay but don’t distract me’ with such an amused face because that’s an impossibility and we all know it but you are also genuinely going to get this food and drink situation sorted or so help you, reaching out to find his hand as you walk down the two flights of stairs you gotta]

James: [giving her an adorably mischievous face back because we do all know it, let yourself be led to baze’s slay kitchen boy, when you get there almost whispering ‘I’ve had an idea’ because the excited child he basically was in her bedroom has returned, and because I’ve had an idea myself and it’s this, my brain was like, okay but imagine if there was a random chaotic meal he made in his messy drunk high era how people do, idk what, but it’s actually good somehow not the weird and gross combos these things usually are and he liked it and so he’s gonna make it for her now, because she asked what he likes, he hopes, if she’ll let him, taking both of her hands and LOOKING at her like do you trust me because it is a big trust moment cos he clearly hasn’t made it for anyone else ever]

Ava: [LOOKING back at him excitedly like go on because of course we’re down and want to know what your idea is, gesturing towards your kitchen like go ahead boy, work your magic, helping him find all the ingredients he needs to find and still having no clue but enjoying the chaotic process here]

James: [ngl I can’t decide if it’s a better vibe if we allow him this weird little success aka let the food genuinely taste nice or if we should say he remembered it tasting nice but when he makes it here and now in the sober light of day it isn’t but they can laugh it off as a fun and funny mem and make/order something else, what do you and Winola think? Either way though, steal an apron to put over your topless bod sir so you look as good as she looks in the shirt and sit her on a bar stool to chop stuff for you because we’re enjoying domestic bliss]

Ava: [I say we let it slay because there can be other chances to do the reverse/you probably wanna feel more comfortable to be able to laugh about your sobriety, rn it’s all a bit precarious because of everything else going on lol, so enjoy your domesticity and its rewards of something actually edible]

James: [good points boo, we’ll go with that then, take the win James you’re welcome, and enjoy being cute af together because god knows when you’ll next get the chance to spend this much uninterrupted time together]

Ava: [it’s basically a fluke because clearly things are patched up with Chlo enough that you don’t leave because you don’t think you can so you’ll be back to your routine and I assume it’s Monday tomorrow so school and baze are back too]

James: [mhmm, real life be beckoning so make the most of the time you have left together, speaking of, however many condoms he has left in his wallet is the number of times they should hook up again because it’s extra but realistically so for the vibe we’ve set, so pick a number Win x]

Ava: [me having to look at pack sizes, you often get 10s or 12s, the smallest size packs so if we’re saying you’ve used a couple, we could say you have like idk 8 left, which seems like a lot but you’ve got all night until the morrow when he gets Jay here so lol]

James: [my boo is doing research and she’s so right for that because I wouldn’t have the first idea, and yeah agreed, he could literally stay until the AM if he wants and we haven’t specified what time he arrived so it’s feasible without us being cray, I just had to put it out there because how decadent yet real of y’all]

Ava: [you love to see it, do you wanna skip to said AM when you have to get back to your real lives, as we’ve set the vibe here pretty well?]

James: [we could do yeah because we know what we’re saying as far as the rest of y’all’s night goes however long is left of it]

Ava: [just thinking, so it feels like a fresher convo, as we unfortunately had to take some annoying lil breaks there]

James: [it’s a good shout and you’ll both be busy with your respective days so we can do as much or as little as we like there, aw how devastated they’ll be to have to part ways, this boy never been more upset to have to put his own shirt back on]

Ava: [truly devastated, will be so annoyingly distracted and mopey at school, soz not soz everyone, I’ll message you first and you can decide as and when to respond, probably the best bet]

Ava: I hope your day is better, tolerable at the very least

James: [catch him replying straight away despite his tasks because we’re still feeling extra in the cold light of day but in a better way this time]

James: I’m relieved not to have to dash your hopes, there’d be almost none for either your day or my own under those circumstances

Ava: I’m accepting my day as the write-off it inevitably will be but I’d rather that wasn’t a shared fate, this time

James: Would you? Because, in truth, I’ve already been informed this shirt is missing a button and the news has been difficult for me to accept, to say the least

Ava: Oh

Ava: There are almost too many moments where it could have been misplaced, yet I can’t begin to picture which is the culprit

James: [write her some what ifs as a shameless excuse to reminisce how you do because we all know he’s been THINKING about it since he was told about said missing button so despite how busy you’re supposed to be you’d have time to write a saucy lil tale]

Ava: 😳

Ava: I’m now utterly convinced it was all my fault, and being unable to offer to replace your shirt, nor am I inclined to want to…

Ava: I suppose I’ll spend this lesson researching how to sew a button back on

James: You’ll have to spend hours on your hands and knees after school searching your bedroom for the button in question as well

Ava: Activity and time better spent when you’re there in front of me but of course

Ava: it’s a must

James: A singularly mismatched button would be a conversation starter, undoubtedly, but you’re the only person I want to talk to about how and why I’m dressed in such a manner

Ava: At least you must know everyone at your father’s office by now, no meet-cutes

Ava: Me having to come to terms with, let alone expose to you, that kind of potential jealousy already wouldn’t be appealing

James: My father’s office isn’t a location where any feelings are stirred within me, rest assured

Ava: I’d say that was your business but all things considered

Ava: if you are with anyone else, or plan to be, I would appreciate knowing that

James: I have no intention of being with anyone but you, on company time or otherwise

Ava: I wasn’t trying to suggest it, though it totally sounds like I was

Ava: I’m happy to hear that

James: I’m equally content to dispel the notion, however hypothetical it may be with regards to my current work colleagues

Ava: I already told you, how it was for me

Ava: I didn’t just assume the same though, however much I may have hoped

James: All things considered, it’s hardly an assumption, I’d hope

Ava: I don’t know, I’m not here to judge

James: I deserve scrutiny if you’re left wavering, I must not have done enough to make sure you were convinced, as I am

Ava: No, it isn’t that at all

Ava: Forget I even brought it up now

James: Would you like to tell me what it is?

Ava: I was just checking, that’s all

Ava: you and I don’t have any promises to keep, that’s what I meant, I didn’t phrase it right though

James: But I do promise, Ava

James: my spare time to you, my unabated interest

Ava: and NOT just because I’ve now shoehorned the topic into conversation, right?

James: Some things go without saying, after last night especially

Ava: I’m sorry that it sounded like I doubted you, as opposed to what I was actually doing, attempting to reign myself in, once again

James: I understand, don’t apologise

Ava: I can get carried away, I don’t want that to ruin anything we have

James: I’m prone to the exact opposite of being carried away, whatever that would be, overly grounded, perhaps?

James: your behaviour is a breath of fresh air

Ava: You are to me, so unlike anyone and everyone I could even begin to compare you to

James: I thought I’d found an exceptional counterpart for you in [the gal from the book] but even she isn’t a fitting likeness, I see that now

Ava: But [a scene from said book that already parallels some peak romance you two have achieved by now], you can’t take that away from me

James: Of course not, I wouldn’t dream of punishing you for being so incomparable when it’s the furthest from a negative

Ava: And you’re going to write the only suitable comparison for us

James: I’m going to try and capture what can be of you, yes

Ava: Your writing is far more astonishing than I am

James: Nothing is more astonishing than you are

Ava: Agree to disagree, the way you write me is the only compliment I’ll ever need

James: No, I’m sorry, I insist

James: travelling every continent or living an inhuman number of years during which I spent every day experiencing so-called incredible things, I’d nonetheless be unable to find anything or anyone to rival the sight and wonder of you

Ava: I hate to be the one to point out that you’re still proving my point right now but

Ava: I find you just as mesmerising, I promise

James: You’re proving mine harder, which I absolutely don’t hate, any and all reminders of how I feel about you, despite your physical absence, are very welcome

Ava: Still feeling your presence is harder with all these other people around but not entirely impossible, or I’d have to go home

James: For your education’s sake I can’t demand it

Ava: As long as you’re fully aware any of your demands are otherwise my pleasure to fulfil, obviously

James: The temptation to abuse the level of power you’ve granted me is overwhelming

Ava: I know it is

James: It’s a source of more pleasure for you to know it

Ava: Yes

Ava: in fairness, it has the potential to be a neverending source of for you so I’m not being entirely selfish

James: Though, if I refuse to ever write an ending I’ll never be published

Ava: Hmm, true, I hadn’t considered that

James: Consider it carefully, what I’m prepared to give up for you

Ava: I am now, promise

James: As I said, my father’s office isn’t the place for eagerness, and yet, here I am, filled with passion

Ava: Do you want me to stop talking to you?

Ava: I didn’t mean to take it to this place, however unapologetic I would like to be about it usually

James: Necessity may dictate that you do, but I’d fight that to the bitter end, written or actual

Ava: I won’t take offence, from you

Ava: the universe, a different story

James: Please talk to me, or I’d simply have to take offence myself

Ava: It’s all I’m feeling any good for today, and I am not mad about that at all

James: Being good for me is a behaviour that comes naturally to you, it isn’t much to ask, contrary to what other people may today

Ava: I should insist I have to try VERY hard, actually

Ava: You’d have to reward me then

James: There should already be something waiting when you return home, unless one of your neighbours feels they deserve it more

Ava: James!

Ava: It isn’t my birthday anymore

James: I can’t help but feel every day spent with you is an occasion worth marking, I’m sorry

Ava: I’m not, unashamedly so

Ava: you know that I’d rather you were waiting for me, always, over anything, so I can receive any and all actual gifts safe in the knowledge you don’t think that’s my primary want from you

James: I haven’t set aside my lunch break to get my watch fixed, instead I’ll continue to wear it as it is

James: because I am waiting for you, in the moments we’re together until we can be again

Ava: It’s important

Ava: These things that are breaking, they mean something, they have to

James: Yes, I wholeheartedly agree with no trace of disagreement and thus no need to put my foot down this time

Ava: That said, we either need to start intentionally breaking my things more or at least try to spare yours a little

Ava: Meaningful to us shouldn’t mean visible to everyone

James: What do you have in mind?

Ava: It should be so obvious it doesn’t need mentioning

James: Are you certain your bed isn’t broken?

Ava: … I wish I were

James: I wish I could send you home to check

Ava: On my own would just be too sad for words

James: That’s precisely the purpose of your present, to alleviate that sadness where possible

Ava: I have no need to doubt your thoughtfulness

Ava: I’m still allowed to miss you though, right?

James: The question is whether or not my heart is something you also intend to break, as it’s yours

James: if your answer is yes, don’t miss me

Ava: I would never intend to break anyone’s heart

James: Naturally, I could tell it was rhetorical while I posed it, but forgive me, I had to guarantee you knew too that you have that piece of me

Ava: You can’t take that back, or just say it now and not really mean it

James: No, and I wouldn’t do either of those

Ava: Can you say it again?

James: [sending her a voice note to actually say it because I’m sure he has his own lil office he can shut the door to, it’s obvs a boujee place]

Ava: Jesus

Ava: I don’t understand how this happened

James: It defies explanation, unfortunately for our novel

Ava: I thought, I mean, I didn’t know what I was looking for, I wasn’t, you were just there, suddenly

James: I should probably allow Teddy a small dedication in gratitude, lest we forget he brought us together, because if real life had rewrites I’d definitely attempt to

Ava: I am meanwhile grateful that he currently has no idea because he would absolutely be unbearable about it

James: He has some, but they’re extremely fanciful, nonetheless, it was insufferable hearing them, that’s true

Ava: But not really, he just presses buttons, indeterminately, to see if anything sticks

Ava: but I’m sorry he’s been testing you about any of it

James: He’s my younger brother, it’s a given and a role in life he obviously cherishes

Ava: True enough

Ava: I do feel slightly responsible in this specific case though

James: It rests on my shoulders, you haven’t done anything wrong

Ava: It wasn’t supposed to be so blatant, I didn’t cover myself well enough

James: It’s okay, Ava

Ava: sorry

James: I don’t regret how this happened, no actual redrafting is required

Ava: Okay

Ava: everything is as okay as it can be, isn’t it?

James: I promise you, darling

Ava: I think my heart might belong to you too

Ava: no one nor nothing else has the effect upon it you do

James: Oh

James: you needn’t worry about how my day is going, in that case

James: I couldn’t be happier

Ava: I’ve been failing to find the words to describe it since you told me

Ava: I didn’t think it could get better than last night

James: I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of wanting to see you more than I did yesterday

Ava: It only gets worse

Ava: in the best possible way, of course

James: I’ll do my best not to prolong the agony for too long, exquisite as it may be for the moment

Ava: I know it’s not just down to us, I’m prepared

James: Your phrasing means I’m completely unwilling and not at all ready

Ava: And I purposely excluded the word suffer from my phrasing too

Ava: In an ideal world, we would never need to miss each other unless we really, really wanted to feel it

James: [obvs write a lil story about that ideal world and what y’all would be up to, I’m sure it’s saucy af and involves her on his desk rn because cliche for a reason and he’ll write it so it’s not]

Ava: It’s criminal for us to both be at desks right now and yet have no way to reenact any of that

James: [do a rewrite into something that’s more doable for you both in your separate locations because you’re that sort of bear]

Ava: Do you want me to, James?

James: Can you without getting into trouble?

Ava: I think so

James: Then yes

Ava: How else can we be expected to focus at all today

James: My concentration is non-existent

Ava: There’s nothing in my head but you

James: It’s what’s bound to happen when I’m wearing the scent and feel of you against my skin

Ava: I miss that shirt

James: I’ll gift it to you

James: I just needed it today, desperately

Ava: I like sharing with you

Ava: if it wasn’t like being held by you, I wouldn’t have kept it on so long

James: I’m glad you did

Ava: You could concentrate then

James: I’ve been fixated on you since your birthday

Ava: Maybe I wished for it when I blew out my candles

James: We can have a year together, that’s how those wishes work, isn’t it?

Ava: I’ve never checked, or counted

Ava: it’s a cheap wish if it doesn’t cover you one year to the next though, you’re right

James: I’d like the assurance of us lasting that long, so I’ll choose to believe those are the terms

Ava: I like it too

James: I’m at a sudden loss for words once more

Ava: You already know I don’t want an ending

James: Thinking where we could be a year from now, we really are only at our beginning

Ava: Where do you want to be in a year, apart from with me?

James: I don’t know, I’ve been afraid to want things, apart from you

Ava: I’m totally fine with you just wanting me

Ava: we have time to figure the rest out

James: Where do you want to be?

Ava: I don’t have an exact plan either, just better, just you

James: Do you have a desk calendar I can break?

Ava: So I can admit to you that my gut reaction to having a year with you was that it isn’t long enough then?

Ava: realising that is how I feel, in the split second after reading those words was… overwhelming

James: You can confide anything in me

Ava: I feel that

Ava: but that is something I don’t want to abuse, seriously

James: I don’t believe you would

Ava: I just like you, James, no time limit on it

James: You know I relish spending time with you and how intense my desire for more together is

Ava: Until that changes, I see no need to limit us further than the extenuating circumstances do

James: Neither do I

Ava: I’m happy

Ava: I want to make you happy like this too

James: I am

Ava: Good

Ava: I miss youou

James: We should meet for lunch, I miss you too

Ava: You have an hour? Where would suit you?

James: I’ll send a car to bring you to me at [somewhere that’s clearly nearby this office but not somewhere his colleagues would go for lunch because they are too snobby/busy/both] if that appeals to you?

Ava: Sounds perfect

Ava: I’ll try to leave before the rush so I don’t have to brush anyone off in person

James: Oh good, I’m always aiming for it when the company is as unrivalled as yours

Ava: I know I’m not exactly being rivalled by anyone at your work right now but that’s still a compliment I’m going to take

James: It’s one you’ve unquestionably earned

Ava: I don’t know if the food will rival last night either but that’s a big ask

James: I suppose an uphill and losing battle is faced regardless in terms of attempting to spark my appetite with you around, but I’m prepared for that, if I may quote you yet again

Ava: It is scandalous of you to be so blatant how NOT about lunch this lunch date is but I’ll still allow it

James: It would be lax of me not to feed you, you must keep your strength up, be it for afternoon classes or the prior commitment you have to them

Ava: My only commitment is to you, that’s all I need my strength for too

James: I’m as dedicated to your wellbeing

Ava: You are so

Ava: I’m still searching for the right word for it

James: Perhaps you’ll find it over lunch if I also vow to help you with the pursuit

Ava: I’ve already said too much, I feel so wholly transparent in front of you

James: I’d love to be visible to you to the same degree

Ava: You can be, you can trust me

James: I’m aware of the magnitude of that responsibility, and I swear it’s the sole reason I’m reluctant to place the strain upon you

James: it’s merely a reflection of me and my baggage

Ava: It’s okay, we’ve all got it

Ava: You can be as open with me as you feel comfortable being, you don’t have to worry about my ability to deal with it

James: I’m used to carrying burdens alone

Ava: You shouldn’t have to, I don’t want you to

James: I’ll try not to, from this moment on

Ava: I’m not claiming I have solutions to every problem but

Ava: not being alone with it all can’t be a bad thing, can it

James: I don’t think so

Ava: Me either

Ava: I’ll tell you things too

James: Isolation exacerbates every issue further, in my experience

Ava: I can’t imagine having to carry on and do the things you do with no support, truly

Ava: it’s incredible you have, as well as not relying on the old crutches that you used to before

James: There are no feats to boast about to date, I’m completely lacking in heroic acts

Ava: You work, study and raise a child

Ava: None of those are nothing, you should be proud of yourself

James: None of them are applaudable, I’m just doing what I have to

Ava: It’s harder work, doing things you don’t necessarily want to do, never mind when they seem like thankless tasks

James: I’m proud of her, independent of me and with no thanks

Ava: I didn’t mean your daughter there, more the rest

James: I’d be lying by refusing to acknowledge what a miserable existence parenting is much of the time, but no, there are enough rewards to prevent it from seeming utterly futile or everyone would have already given up

Ava: You’re allowed to be a person outside of it, it should be encouraged

James: I’m not encouraged to seek out delight in many places

Ava: Everyone I’ve ever met is a walking advertisement for unhappy parents making unhappy children

Ava: I don’t know why the cycle keeps repeating unbidden, we have to step in and up at some point, surely

James: Because few people have children when or how they would choose to, the circumstances start out less than ideal and, therefore, persist in being

Ava: It’s never too late, however difficult extrapolating is, it’s still a worthy cause

James: Unless too late is relative, dependent as it is on where the individual tipping point could be and the deciding factor of what amount of damage would be irrevocable

Ava: There’s always more to be caused and so always reason to leave too

James: You’re right, I have to concede to your point

Ava: I understand practicalities prove less black and white in the execution but

Ava: I still stand by the point

James: As you should, it’s excellent

Ava: Will you, do you think, one day

James: That day came and the actions I embarked upon made everything infinitely worse

Ava: She didn’t take it well then

James: An understatement

Ava: But she’s found out before, about your infidelities, right?

Ava: I don’t know if I can comprehend the priorities…

James: She has her own

James: but outward appearance is what matters

Ava: Even if it’s all a lie?

James: Yes

Ava: That’s so ridiculous

Ava: You shouldn’t live a lie because she’s content to, or thinks she is

James: I’m beholden to my obligations, I live as duty dictates, which regrettably, must include her impulses, however contemptible I consider them

Ava: You have multiple duties, to your daughter and to yourself, too

Ava: She can’t be the only person considered

James: I wouldn’t have one to my daughter any longer, that’s been categorically stated

Ava: Okay but she knows that’s not something she can do, even if she wants to

James: It’s within her power, my lapses in judgement go beyond infidelity

Ava: And hers?

James: Aren’t on the record like mine are, hearsay isn’t sufficient when it’s my word alone

Ava: Wasn’t your rehab stint voluntary?

James: Technically, but none of my alleged character witnesses would attest to any less than kicking and screaming

Ava: I mean, it wasn’t court ordered

Ava: and you completed it, all of which points to a commitment to sobriety, not the opposite, which is what she wants you to be scared of

James: I wouldn’t be granted full custody and I’m under no illusion she’d follow through with other arrangements, even if those were court ordered

Ava: You think it would be worse than it is now then

James: Her threats are seldom empty

James: living with her I have the ability to perform damage control, compensate for the things which should be better but aren’t

Ava: I understand

James: I’m afraid I wouldn’t be in contact with my daughter for months, possibly years, depending on the legal red tape involved, by which point, she may not want any at all

Ava: She wouldn’t be allowed to just stop you, there is no case, even if she made up something truly horrific, it’d still need proving and you’re innocent until it is, which it can’t be

James: Perhaps not, but she wouldn’t stop until I was guilty in the eyes of my daughter and I’m not sure how easy it would be for me to disprove the character assassination going on behind closed doors

Ava: I’m sorry, it’s horrible you have to deal with any of this

James: The compassion you’ve shown is new to me, but I value it

James: thank you

Ava: Your daughter is very lucky to have you

James: I’m lucky to have you

Ava: All I’ve done is listen

James: Don’t downplay it

Ava: I’m happy to, you’re welcome any time

James: I wouldn’t be to treat you as my unpaid therapist

Ava: I wish I had actual solutions for you

James: You are a solution, being with you is more than enough

Ava: You still want to do lunch, don’t you

Ava: I really want to see you

James: Of course

Ava: We can skip the whole lunch part, truth be told

James: Okay, tell me

Ava: Tell you what?

James: About what we’re going to do instead

Ava: Well, we need to be alone

Ava: because I need to be as close to you as is physically possible

James: Where are you taking me?

Ava: As bed isn’t an option, the nearest privacy the car can find us

James: The car itself can be a haven for it in the meanwhile

Ava: It could suffice, I’m not opposed to the idea

James: [obvs writing her a car scenario what if, of the antics he’s THINKING about them getting up to]

Ava: Okay, so we are absolutely staying in the car then, that’s decided

James: Are you definite?

James: [and a what if of somewhere else, idk maybe a park to bring back where they hooked up for the first time when we did the tour vibe last, regardless, just here giving her options and more to THINK about]

Ava: The only thing I’m definite on is that we’re going to need more than one lunch break

Ava: and that you’re in charge of where we go, you have the best ideas

James: There’s a full work week ahead of us, but I must insist you eat brunch on the weekends, with or without me

Ava: I’ll keep my strength up, I promise

James: Good girl

Ava: I felt like I was dreaming the first time you said that to me

James: It’s almost unfathomable that I’m not, still

Ava: Did you dream, when we fell asleep?

James: Absolutely

Ava: About me?

James: About you and only you

Ava: That’s mutual then

Ava: I’m still struggling to have any thoughts, waking or otherwise, about anything but you

James: My pen has endeavoured to write your name on an abundance of [idk what business report thing he’s meant to be doing, sue me]

Ava: I’ve distracted you dreadfully

Ava: I don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about it though

James: It’s the effect you’ve had since reentering my life, which I’m similarly lacking the slightest remorse about

Ava: I don’t want to be something you regret, another lapse in judgment

James: I don’t want you to get that impression when it couldn’t be further from the truth

Ava: Promise?

James: This feels different, perhaps I shouldn’t admit it as freely as I am, given reconnected days ago

Ava: I would feel bad, I know there’s no evidence to support that

Ava: if you and your wife had a chance, I thought she treated you any better than with total contempt, I really would

Ava: I’m not saying I wouldn’t have done it, maybe I still would but I wouldn’t be so unapologetic about how I feel for you

James: I meant what I said when I expressed the credit you’d be to the field of journalism, you’re indisputably someone with strong morals and ethics

Ava: It doesn’t feel like a shouldn’t, not when you’re trapped

Ava: not when I like you more

James: You aren’t behaving as you shouldn’t, I am

Ava: If she won’t let you leave, what are you meant to do?

Ava: Suffer in silence entirely is not an option

James: I ought to dedicate myself to making my marriage work, arguably

Ava: Should you?

James: I barely remember the day, vows included, but speaking them aloud is a prerequisite

Ava: Were you scared?

James: Honestly terrified

Ava: You weren’t old enough to make that sort of commitment, to understand what it meant

James: You understand

Ava: No one would let me get married, think that would work out long term

James: No, but you possess the emotional maturity, I don’t think anyone is claiming our troubles are age related

Ava: I don’t know about that, I’m just saying I’m unsure why all the actual adults in your lives failed to see it was a poor idea to begin with

Ava: You were let down, both of you

James: This wouldn’t be a conversation we were having if you didn’t

Ava: Okay, and you are now too

James: I’m trying to avoid being another adult who has neglected to do what they’re supposed to

Ava: I would say that’s very clear

James: It doesn’t always seem like I’m being understood

Ava: I can’t begin to fathom how frustrating it must be, to be trying as hard as you are, and to receive no confirmation of the fact, let alone recognition

James: If I’m able to summon up any optimism at all in this situation, it would go towards my conviction that you aren’t going to suffer the same fate

Ava: You don’t have to spend any of your optimism or worry on me, James, I promise, I’m always alright

James: And in the first instance you weren’t, you’d be able to express it much more eloquently than I

Ava: I could talk to you, as you can talk to me now too

Ava: however inelegant the prose, the feeling is what counts

James: I’m blown away by how you communicate both your emotions and opinions

Ava: I just need to get you to see how and why the feeling is mutual

James: I’m sorry, I’m not deliberately setting you up for your own failure or thankless task, it just may be

Ava: Well, I’m no quitter

James: You’re persistent

Ava: You’re yet to find it annoying

Ava: I hope, or this is very awkward

James: It’s enviable, as long as you remain conscious of the fact you’re allowed to rest

Ava: Only when sleep is unavoidable

Ava: I didn’t set that precedent to go against it immediately

James: No, when it’s necessary, I’m mindful of the exhausting nature of my daily life

Ava: I know you are, that’s why I have to do everything within my power to distract you when we’re allowed

Ava: said like it’s not my pleasure

James: The pleasure’s all mine, though, I very much hope it isn’t really, or I’ve contradicted my previous sentence and claimed attentiveness to keeping this fun for you

Ava: You know how pleasurable this is for me, you’ve made certain of that

James: Today there’s more I could do, to be absolute in my belief

Ava: Please

James: But nothing would give me greater pleasure than for us each to be completely and equally certain of it

Ava: You do make me sure, like no one else has

James: I’m usually so indecisive, not with you

Ava: You know what I want, it matches what you do

James: Yes

Ava: It’s so… freeing, to actually know that

Ava: not be guessing or hoping

James: Most areas of my life are an exercise in restraint, I can’t bring to mind when I last relaxed it, before us

Ava: That’s how you really test the muscle, isn’t it

Ava: because you know when and where to let go and let it out

James: And when to keep a tight hold, which I insist upon doing with you

Ava: I need you to, I can’t lose you

James: Releasing you isn’t an option yet

Ava: I’m yours, remember

James: The enduring ache I have for you isn’t going to let me forget

Ava: That sounds all too familiar

James: My methods of alleviating them will too as alas I’ve rather given myself away with my earlier prose

Ava: Familiar does you a disservice there, nothing about this feels old hat or everyday

Ava: I feel like you’ve shown me things I couldn’t even guess at in my wildest dreams

James: Regular time with you would only serve as a continuation of everything I’ve loved having the opportunity to do

Ava: Let me make myself available for you

James: I dream of a progression of this which doesn’t become a gradual nightmare for you, that’s all

Ava: How could it ever be a nightmare?

James: Ava

Ava: I know, what I can’t have from you

Ava: but I know what I can and I want it so badly

James: It’s a shared hunger

Ava: Devour me, I promise you it’s what I want

James: The moment can’t come soon enough

Ava: Waiting for you is starting to seem natural, right somehow

Ava: even if it should be shaming to be here in this room with these people feeling this way

James: The blush I can picture you wearing is, even though it is a dreadful shame I’m not there witnessing each distinct shade bloom firsthand

Ava: No sneaky selfie is painting the picture you deserve either

Ava: you know how to make me blossom every time, there’s no doubt you’ll see for yourself just how flushed I am now

James: That wait will be as worthwhile as the one you mentioned

Ava: I do wish you had more pictures of your handsome face online though, selfishly

James: I consent to you taking pictures of me

Ava: Really?

James: I don’t see the harm in submitting to it

Ava: Wow 🥰

James: Flushed doesn’t look as good on me, but if it’s what you want

Ava: It is because we absolutely must agree to disagree there

James: Oh, you’re adamant, are you?

Ava: Completely

James: Okay

Ava: I’ve seen you flushed, there’s no denying the perfection, I’m afraid

James: There’s no way to protest the comparison favours me over you

James: you’re the epitome of perfection

Ava: No, you

Ava: perhaps we can say we’re well-matched

James: We can’t, I’m sorry, you’re an archetype, the likes of which I fear will make a mockery of my writing whenever I attempt to exhibit you

Ava: I fear what being with you might do for my ego

Ava: luckily with every incredible thing you say about me, it just endears me to you more than myself

James: The readers egos will lead them to assume I’ve misrepresented you because you embody too many implausible traits

Ava: As long as you don’t find me insufferable and unbelievable

James: I’m struggling to withstand the torment of our current separation, was that your question?

Ava: I forget but I empathise so wholly that nothing else matters

Ava: I’ve never clock-watched this hard before

James: It’s outrageous the clock doesn’t feel your stare and leap forwards at your request

Ava: It is, you’re right

Ava: Who do I complain to about this?

James: How could I not be the one to blame? What cruel storytelling device have I, the author, employed here, and for which exacting ends?

James: but I need you to know my yearning for you feels violent right now, whether or not you agree or disagree it’s an adequate punishment

Ava: Having no say over how forceful the longing hits and for how long the feeling stays seems entirely appropriate, no good or bad or agree or disagree even capable

Ava: It’s just so

James: Being deprived of your body and all I need from it is an experience I am ill equipped to cope with

Ava: Is it consolation to know I have as little clue as you?

Ava: all I know is how willingly I’m going to submit to what your body needs as soon as I see you

James: My solace exists inside of you, I’m learning

Ava: It’s something we create together

James: Peace

Ava: Security

James: I’ve never known a respite like the one you offer me

Ava: If there was better somewhere else, I would let you find it

Ava: that’s how much I like you

James: Let me reveal you, uncover all there is to

Ava: I trust you, I want it to be you

James: Expose yourself to me and I’ll lay myself bare to you

Ava: James

James: Fuck, Ava

Ava: How did we stumble upon us, how is it so incredible

James: I don’t know

Ava: Writing until you do would be a worthy pursuit but I still don’t think you’d get an answer really

James: There’s an argument to be made for you taking over as the writer, because stumble is a prudent word choice for my inability to walk anywhere at the moment

Ava: You really need to be sat down darling

James: Thankfully I am, lamentably you’re not sat with me

Ava: God if I was

James: Write it for me

Ava: [do, trying your hardest and being the sauciest, obviously]

James: You’re profoundly talented

Ava: You leave me with no choice in the matter

James: You’re going to leave me with no alternative but to behave very unprofessionally

Ava: I am

James: No apologies?

Ava: Only if you really want them

James: You’ll be sorry this office isn’t soundproof when the denial of the recording I would’ve sent you fully registers

Ava: But

James: [he can’t resist sending a voice note regardless though which is just him breathing insanely because gotta be quiet shh]

Ava: I can feel how that would feel against my skin, if I focus hard enough on each breath

James: If I close my eyes I can feel the weight of you in my lap

Ava: There’s not an office in the city soundproofed enough for how I would be reacting if I were in your lap right now

James: I’d be inconsolable at having to keep you as quiet as I am

Ava: Inconsolable does sound like a personal challenge though

James: True, perhaps it should be

Ava: Perhaps you’ll want me keeping you company all the time

James: I already crave that

Ava: Me too

Ava: you already made me want to be on that desk of yours, now I need to be under it, bent over it, the possibilities truly are endless

James: [of course writing all those possibilities being even more !! than he was earlier hence also a saucier rewrite of that desk moment from then because the mood we’re in rn]

Ava: I’ll do anything, just please let me

James: Darling, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t grant you permission for

Ava: I fucking adore you, I need to feel you again, I’m so lost here

James: The desk isn’t mine, you are

Ava: The moment you laid eyes on me, you possessed me fully

James: Remember how that felt, feel it now

Ava: I haven’t stopped, I can feel you in my flesh and blood and my bones, you flood my mind and my other senses until I can feel you again

James: I’d create space for you in every fragment of me, there isn’t a trace of myself I wouldn’t gladly let you coexist along with, because it’s all improved for the closeness of you

Ava: I want to be consumed by you and consume you, no distinction between us, that’s how truly my entire being belongs to you

James: I’m going to flood this desk without even touching myself because of how you confess the things you want

Ava: Now I really want that

James: But you’re not here to consume it

Ava: You could for me, feed me

James: You have declared your appetite for us to be joined, I should demonstrate my own

Ava: I will give myself over to you again and again, every second, every day, I become yours anew

James: It would be impossible to dismiss any vow made by you, least of all that one

Ava: Want me, I don’t know if I’ll continue to exist if you don’t, not now

James: I said it first, I told you to be mine entirely or I’d be afraid what I’d do

Ava: You were so masterful, I’ve been under your spell since

James: I didn’t exist without you

Ava: But you’re so vivid and raw and electric to me, how can that be true

James: To call you my muse cheapens it, but you know what you are irrespective of the language deficit

Ava: You know who that makes you, how vital to me, my master, my creator

James: I’d experience an unparalleled sense of pride and fulfilment if I were, of course your parents were satisfied after creating you, anyone would be content to stop

Ava: You are but don’t stop, please

James: I won’t, I can’t

Ava: You need this, me

James: You’re fundamental to me too

Ava: I’ve written your name on my thigh

James: I’d carve yours on this desk provided I saw it at all, but I could be anywhere for how little it matters when I’m not with you

Ava: Soon, love, so soon

Ava: I don’t need to come back

James: The sight of you would be alarming, once the limited time I have runs out and we’ve got no choice but to be finished

Ava: I’d wait for you like that, ruined

James: Never ruined

Ava: Not for you

James: Ravished, but your beauty grows with that, I refuse to diminish any part of you

Ava: You’re so unbelievably caring, it never fails to shock me

James: You bring out the best in me, I want it for you

Ava: We can have that together

James: Art evolves, if that’s what you are and I’ve created you, it’s my aim that you do

Ava: You make me feel it, like it’s more than skin deep

James: Our bond is, you’ve cured me of more than my writer’s block

Ava: I think I’ve run out of words, I don’t have sufficient ones to match to our bond

James: Present your thigh to me

Ava: [a covert snap of this which is clearly well under your skirt because we know what we’re saying here and where your head was]

James: [another voice note, this time of him saying her name in response, obvs whispered to be likewise stealth but !! af because not okay about it even a lil bit]

Ava: Maybe that’s all we need to say

James: It’s all I feel as though I can say

Ava: You’ve kept it off the desk and the [whatever work things he is currently ignoring so hard] no one can expect anything more

James: Yours are the only ones I care to meet

Ava: You continue to exceed even my wildest

James: I remain floored

Ava: And I demand you be here now

James: Soon, I promise

Ava: I’ll count every second ‘til then

1 note · View note