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#I'll show you what it's like to 'cope'!
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months
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Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows
(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#mdzs au#lan wangji#nie huaisang#Yungmeng Jiang training arc AU#This is the *first* part of what was supposed to be a much longer comic (LWJ's morning routine in full).#I'll finish the remaining part as a reblog to this post! I just think this is the funnier chunk.#Lan Wangji absolutely is the kind of person who has a perfect internal alarm clock for when it is time to get up.#He already has a dedicated sleep schedule. He is accurate within 10 seconds of 5am every day.#I think the Jiang disciples are most likely used to waking up around 6:00-7:00am#But the allure of having a guaranteed time keeper getting you up in the morning is worth the earlier hour.#I imagine they started outside lwj's door and slowly moved closer as the weeks went on.#Now LWJ has to cope with being way too warm in the night from all the extra body heat.#LWJ is not a fan of this but they scamper off immediately after he wakes up and they at least show initiative to follow routine.#NHS joins in only because he is a chronically heavy sleeper and needs this level of intervention to get up early.#His boldness would be a death sentence in the cloud recesses but here? Whole new game.#Yungmeng Jiang isn't a lawless land. It's just a land with different laws.#And one of those laws is to forcefully domesticate the catboy coded Lan boy through any means necessary.#Completely different tangent: I drew the thumbnail for this before I did comic 134. I then realized they had the same visual gag.#So I had to space this one out so it didn't seem like I repeated the waking up joke. That's my secret and all of you have to keep it.#And in my land the law is that snitches get itches (telepathically transfers hives onto your body)
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clonerightsagenda · 1 year
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Ok I swear I will go to bed after this and I have made basically this same post before but while people talk a lot about Vimes' possession by a spirit of vengeance, I love the storyline of Tiffany getting possessed by an entity of desperate desire. She spends the whole book out of her element, struggling to fit in socially, wanting something to hide behind, and the hiver feels the same way. It's formless and helpless without a body to wear, and all it wants is to accumulate whatever will keep itself safe. It doesn't realize what that does to everyone around it. It's our id. It gives us what we want, even when it's not what we need.
And Tiffany gets her body taken over and watches herself threaten and steal and kill, forced to acknowledge that these actions stem from what the hiver sees in her, and when she gets free she pities it. She understands what it means to be scared and alone and ruled by your worst impulses. She gives it a name. She takes its metaphorical hand and helps it through the door. (And then accidentally gets stuck in the land of the dead and has to get dragged back, man Tiff what is it with you and underworlds). God I love her.
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magnetic-dogz · 8 months
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If Berdly never makes another appearance after chapter 2 I'll need to have a stern word with Mr. Tobias Fox
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bluebelleisabelle · 11 months
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When Shea Fontana wrote the new generation of Monster High, I don't think she intended for a 19 year old to rely on it while she's having a mental breakdown, but that's precisely what I'm doing 💀
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I regret to inform everyone we're back in the white space. Expect the fire alarm to go off periodically in typical fashion of whenever it detects a steaming pile of garbage on the way. Like me! [i'll give a cookie to whoever recognizes where the sfx is from!!]
#hand jumper#sighs#projected second taeho gyeon tag on ao3.....#where did i go wrong#we're so joever guys#we're so joever...#mandatory plugin for the hand jumper discord server because i think the culprit wouldn't want to own up#or even has tumblr idk#but just know they're on my hitlist and i hate[/pos] them#also yes it's more cell 3#if i had to summarise think of it an evil version of the halloween fic#except even worse#honestly though if you're able to JOIN THE HJ DISCORD SERVEEEEEER#SOMEONE WAS COOKING FIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!#it's like that one bromie on discord said if 3 guys came to the same conclusion at radically different intervals then maybe it's something!#or eveyone's on the same drug#BUT I CHOOSE TO BELIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE#and so in orderly fashion what do i do when i really wanna poke and prod at them more?#throw them in the torture nexus#granted it's not really a torture nexus because the bet is everytime cell three appears in a chapter i delete and start the draft over agai#it is.#but that's not my problem!!!#it's future me who'll fret over tuesday's episodes problem!!#also it puts it in a perpetual state of agony because if what if the day we say“i'll finish tomorrow p much done” is the day cell 3 shows u#ctrl+shift+del+seethe+mald+cope#also i'd say compared to finish in three days it's the most lenient artificial deadline ever#because either cell 3 or cell 3 mentor appears and i win by getting more food to improve the work#or i hand it in as is if they don't and shoot myself when they do after i just finished#also if you ever want to ask me to drop/drop the hj memes i made in the server just holler#because i forget to post here chronically!!!!!!!!
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yes-prisoner · 1 year
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Tristan, moodboard:
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realmythsmoved · 1 month
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Also, in preperation for the movie that's coming on Netflix in September, I want to reread Uglies (series) but also my friend got me two of the Bridgerton books, and I might want to add them to my portrayal of my Bridgerton muses (minus Eloise, tbh) but I don't know which to read first.
So help me choose?
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fazcinatingblog · 6 months
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Waking up at 3am to do a Panadol because you're thinking about everything you have to do at work on Monday
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lynxgirlpaws · 10 months
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I spent quite literally one [1] hour with my father and now feel like absolute shit. Unironically how does he do this [i am impressed]
#AvieRant#now mind you i am writing this from “weh weh weh huff puff” attitude so it is probably biased like a motherfucker#but whatever i'll feel bad for it later#so before we even get anywhere [walgreens] I talk about how someone on the discord got a full ride to yale and he goes on his#“You think you don't have to do things if you don't want to...” speech yada yada yada shut up please you're the reason why#I couldn't apply to college because you fucking refused to help me get my immunization records until like august [too late]#anyways I show concern for him as he says his ankle has been hurting especially on the EXTRA LONG WALK he CHOSE to take#and he fucking. slaps my stomach and says “yeah well I ain't got a pussy so I ain't a bitch”#i. are you fucking kidding me . one - don't touch me . two - fuck you. three - don't fucking touch me#then we GET to walgreens and he makes sure to inform me how stupid I am for... looking at the price of things before buying them#and actively gives me a side eye or sucks his teeth when I suggest making decisions based off of cost [idgaf if you have cash be smart >:(]#anyways he also just basically decides shit for me. I asked for one [1] thing and he informed me that I simply don't need it#before promptly ignoring any even suggestions of me getting something I'd actually want other than what he soyjaks at#so anyways as we go to pay ? fucker demands I go wait outside while he pays . for no reason. just. fuck me ig okay#anyways we seem to FINALLY be getting my phone turned on on the way home!!!! like we're AT T-Mobile!#then he has to wait 5 minutes and decides we'll just do it tomorrow. like he's been saying for 11 months#then basically tells me to go home alone while I carry everything bc he wants to go somewhere#like . fuck you fuck off i am tired of your bullshit#ugh . i. like again. can't ocmplain. free food and housing and what not. but do you HAVE to be a dick whenever you can? >:/#whatever i'm gonna go cope somehow see y'all around
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seospicybin · 27 days
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THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.
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PART I
Bangchan x reader. (s,a)
Chapters: Part II
Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)
Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x
It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.
The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that
So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.
"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.
Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.
However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.
The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.
The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.
"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.
"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.
Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.
"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.
Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.
"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."
The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"
"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.
The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.
"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.
"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.
"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.
"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.
"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.
"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.
The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"
"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.
"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"
"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.
The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."
"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.
Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.
"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.
"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.
Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.
-
The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.
In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.
From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.
Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.
"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"
"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.
Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.
"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.
You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.
"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.
"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"
"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.
"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.
"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.
"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.
All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."
The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.
"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.
"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.
Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.
"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.
"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.
To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.
"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.
It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.
He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.
"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.
There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.
There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"
Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.
He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.
"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"
When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.
"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.
"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."
With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"
It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.
"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.
"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.
It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.
"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.
"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.
It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.
When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.
When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.
"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.
Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.
-
Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.
All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area
So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?
It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.
Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.
There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.
But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.
Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!
Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.
As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!
Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.
With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.
Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.
The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.
Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.
You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.
"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.
The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.
"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"
"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"
Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...
"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.
"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.
"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.
The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.
Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.
Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.
"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.
He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.
He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.
"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.
Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.
Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.
"Is that for me?"
The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.
"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.
"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."
"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."
See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.
"Thank you," you add with a smile.
Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.
It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.
Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.
"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.
"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.
It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.
"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"
You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.
"Milk would be nice," he answers.
"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.
You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.
After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.
"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.
You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.
"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.
"Oh?" You meekly gasp.
"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.
"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."
"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.
You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.
"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.
Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.
The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.
"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.
That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.
"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."
Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.
"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.
You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."
"How long you've been dating each other?"
"Three years," you answer.
"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.
Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.
"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.
"My help?"
"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.
"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.
It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."
Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.
"I guess you want to let him down gently?"
"Yes," you answer.
"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."
Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.
"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.
"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.
Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.
"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.
"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.
"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.
You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.
"She already left," you tell him.
Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.
"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.
"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.
Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.
You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.
"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.
The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.
The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.
"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.
"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.
Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.
"How did it go?" He asks.
"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.
Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.
"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.
"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.
"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.
It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.
"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.
Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.
"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.
Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.
"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.
Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.
"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.
"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."
Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.
"We can practice, you know," he offers.
"Practice?"
"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.
He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.
The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.
"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.
Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door
-
Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.
The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.
The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.
"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"
Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.
"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.
"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.
"That sounds nice," you easily respond.
"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?
"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.
"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."
You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.
"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.
"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.
"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"
"So glad," you lie, again and again.
"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.
"Okay."
"Don't forget the wine!"
"I won't."
"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.
The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."
"I love you, bye."
Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.
Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.
Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"
"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.
It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.
You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.
"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.
He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."
You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.
However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.
"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"
Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.
The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.
"Get it together!" You scold yourself.
After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.
"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.
"Hardly," he jokes.
You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.
"Okay, so, why am I here?"
You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."
It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.
"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.
"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"
You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.
"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.
Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.
"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.
"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.
It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.
"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."
Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.
Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.
"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.
"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.
Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.
"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.
"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.
The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.
He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."
You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.
He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.
"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.
It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.
-
It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.
Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.
Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.
But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.
"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.
You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.
Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.
"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.
Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.
"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.
"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.
When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.
"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.
"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.
You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.
"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.
"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"
The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.
Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.
From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.
"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.
"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.
Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.
The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.
"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.
You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.
He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.
"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."
Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.
To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.
As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.
He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.
As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.
"I want this, Chris," you croak.
"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.
"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.
You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.
"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.
This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.
He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.
"Yes," you answer without a beat.
That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.
Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.
Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.
He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.
He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.
To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.
"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.
He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.
"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.
He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.
The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.
Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.
At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.
"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.
Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.
You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.
Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.
The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.
He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.
Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.
He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.
On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.
He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.
Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.
You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.
He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.
"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.
You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.
Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.
"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.
It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.
Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.
"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.
Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.
He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.
As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.
He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.
"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.
Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.
A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.
The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.
Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.
"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.
Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.
"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.
He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.
He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.
Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.
The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.
"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."
Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.
"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.
"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.
Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.
When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.
-
A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.
He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.
Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.
Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.
Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.
At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.
Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.
You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.
Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.
"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.
"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.
Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.
"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.
"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."
Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"
"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.
"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.
You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"
"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.
"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.
"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.
Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.
"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.
He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."
You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.
You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.
"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.
You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.
There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.
He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"
You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.
Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.
The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.
"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.
His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"
"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."
And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?
Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.
"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.
You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.
Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.
That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.
-
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star-anise · 3 months
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Currently getting my socks clean blown off by Rethinking Narcissism, by Dr. Craig Malkin. Which I found, in a roundabout way, from this video on Midsommar, grief, and narcissism.
Tonight I woke up from a nap and accidentally took my morning meds, so I'm going to be up for a few hours because of the meth. In place of sleep, I'll try to roughly sum up some basic ideas proposed by the research the book is based on:
That traits of "narcissism" like entitlement, grandiosity, and feeling special are not inherently toxic. There are times and places they are appropriate and beneficial. If you show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound to the chest, you should not sit and wait to be seen after people with earaches and coughs. (Actually, medical systems are designed to prioritize people with more urgent needs, and you qualify under that system. You are special and are deserving of different treatment than those others, which is why making your needs known, even insisting on it if you're not listened to appropriately the first time, is an extremely good idea. It keeps you from bleeding to death on the floor, and keeps the hospital from getting its pants sued off by your heirs.)
It is more useful to view "narcissism" not as an inherent immutable personality trait, but as a cluster of coping mechanisms. As previously stated, there are times they are exactly the right coping mechanism for the job. However, people we call "narcissists" tend to cling to these ones even when they become detrimental to themselves and others, often because they lack other ways of regulating their emotions and getting their needs met. And that is something they can change, if a person is willing to put in sincere and difficult work. It is not usually fast change; it's a matter of years, not weeks. But a skillbuilding approach turned Borderline Personality Disorder from an immutable curse to a fully treatable (though not quickly treatable) condition, and there's a lot of hope that it can do the same for Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
Meanwhile, there's an opposite end to the narcissism spectrum, and it is also pathological and destructive to hang out there all the time. It's an aversion, or even a resistance, to expecting yourself or other people to treat your own feelings, thoughts, ideas, needs, or preferences as important. For Greek mythology reasons, its proposed name is Echoism.
Unfortunately, because most of the damage echoism does is, by its very nature, localized to its sufferer and their own personal relationships, its downsides aren't often talked about. In fact, it's often seen as an ideal moral state, a kind of altruism or saintliness everyone should strive for. As a pathological coping mechanism a person is trapped in, though, it's often more a fear-based reflex than a conscious and deliberate attempt to achieve some real and specific good. It's not actually as beneficial as being able to recognize your needs, desires, positive aspects, and areas of competence or excellence, and bring them forward in your relationships with other people and yourself.
To me this has all been a cross between a gut-punch and a cool, sweet drink of water. There have been other ways to describe echoism over the years, but this feels like the most concise and useful one I've seen in ages.
It specifically puts its pin down in the middle of the moral debate a lot of people struggle with—"What right do I have to put myself forward? What hope do I have of being seen and accepted? Isn't it better not to burden anybody else?"—and says that the problem is not feeling in touch with either side of the equation, but specifically, the inability to move from one part of the spectrum to another when it's merited by circumstances.
When I was a child, I thought Echoism was the answer. It was my ideal. I thought it was what would get me the love and acceptance I wanted, and would keep me safe from the pain of rejection or not being understood. I had no idea it would actually, in fact, be the primary cause of alienation and loneliness for the rest of my life.
Now I'm so deeply thankful I couldn't fully achieve it, in practical terms. As hard as I tried to erase myself, there were always things I loved too much to suppress. I still found ways to express and discover myself in the books I read, the stories I wrote, the intellectual work of school and the experience of pursuing hobbies I loved, my ambitions to be helpful even when they demanded I stop being selfless, and the relationships where I felt safe enough to experience love and acceptance even if I didn't think I deserved them.
There's this question I found a while back that echoed in my bones: Who am I allowed to be around you? Because that's what I felt like, as a child. If I wanted to engage with other people and minimize my risk of harm, it was my job to bend into a pretzel and fit the shape they wanted. And thank god, thank god, thank god, I couldn't fully do it. Despite everything, there were parts of me too strong and bright to lop off completely to get my arms and legs inside the carriage. I was able to take care of myself and let them grow in secret until I found social places I could let them out again. Despite myself, I found ways to grow and thrive, well beyond the trauma that said I shouldn't have.
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happyhauntt · 6 months
Text
— march fic recs, brought to you by happyhauntt.
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a wee fic rec post for a few of the fics i read in march that altered my brain chemistry!! i've put a lil comment next to each rec because honestly writers don't get praised enough for their work these days and i wanted to show my appreciation for these talented souls!!
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grishaverse.
➡ kaz brekker.
what do you want from me by @rubysunnday. notes: literally perfect wtf.
dark days by rubysunnday. notes: i reread this literally constantly, it is so perfect, kaz's characterisation is perfect, i adore it.
bloody hands by rubysunnday. notes: i devoured this whole thing like a starving person it was sO good.
when am i gonna lose you? by @crowsmybeloveds. notes: this is so beautiful honestly i have no words.
the lost princess by @ellewritesalright. notes: look it's only part one but elle is a fucking wizard and i'm a sucker for an anastasia au.
you and me (a whole lot of history) by @heliads. notes: this was so cute and such a clever concept i fell in love!!!
schat by @amourology. notes: fully choked this is so adorable.
soulmate by @magpiencrow. notes: KAZ BREKKER SOULMATE AU didn't know i needed this but now i need 100 more!!!!
➡ nikolai lantsov.
nine long years series by @ellewritesalright. notes: i am actively fucking screaming over this fic. i will never stop. this might genuinely be the best thing i've read in a LONG while. everything about it has me sobbing i actively CANNOT COPE. and it's not even finished yet.
one of us by @songofpatrochilless. notes: literally had me sobbing you don't understand the domesticity of it all!!!!!.
come on back to me by @atlabeth. notes: there is a very strong chance that i'll literally never stop screaming about this fic.
dreams of you by @wh0refornikolailantsov. notes: every cell in my body is SCREAMING.
this love by @lantsovsupremacist. notes: did not, in fact, give you permission to hurt me like this do it again.
salt in the wound by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: brain goes brrrr this has everything i need to survive tbh.
wanting was enough by @rubysunnday. notes: beautiful stunning magnificent i want to eat it.
an exhausted smile by @writing-havoc. notes: think i had an aneurysm reading this it was that amazing.
run away with me by @sumsebien. notes: i am still sobbing over this.
in emerald hearts, emerald minds by @undiscovered-horizon. notes: love love love love love. there aren't enough words in any language to describe how much i love this.
➡ alina starkov.
alina starkov x reader by @heliads. notes: alina does not get nearly enough love and this was so fucking sad and cute and brilliant.
➡ nina zenik.
the ten steps to 'i love you' by @sophierequests. notes: this was SO HEARTWARMING AND SWEET i adored it!!!
➡ zoya nazyalensky.
forget-me-nots by @syllvane. notes: not enough zoya fics on this hellsite. but also this ripped my heart out and made me sob so RUDE. i feel devastated.
➡ inej ghafa.
inej ghafa x reader by @heliads. notes: INEJ MY SWEET BABY, this fic is everything to me. everything. and it's so beautifully written!!!
➡ the darkling.
the dark side of the moon series by @myhairpintrigger. notes: this fic is ASTOUNDING. i haven’t cried this much reading something in a long time. i was FULL-BODY SOBBING. i don’t even like the darkling. i am Not a darkling girlie. but i was intrigued by concept of this fic and i can safely say it has ruined my life. this is Emotional Damage Incarnate. i will never recover. author, i salute you.
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911.
through the smoke by @borntobewondering. notes: spent twenty whole minutes sobbing after reading this. i felt undone i felt hollow i felt so utterly fucked. author is a genius and that's all there is to say.
not so one night stand by @shmaptainwrites. notes: this was so fuckin adorable i'm in love.
d.c. to l.a. by shmaptainwrites. notes: bobby my guy just doesn't get enough fucking credit and this is so fucking adorable.
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criminal minds.
➡ spencer reid.
trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs. notes: this series is. it's literally. everything. i love bugsy like she's my own child. sister relationships are everything to me. i spent an hour sobbing in my bed over parts 2 and 3. i want this tattooed on my forehead.
➡ aaron hotchner.
found by @benedictscanvas. notes: DADDY i mean what. all jokes aside this was so sweet and beautiful and i'm in love the writing!!!
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doctor who.
rage rage (against the dying of the light) by @morganas-pendragons. notes: felt feral after reading this. kayla just gets me in my feels every time.
heartbeat by morganas-pendragons. notes: this was the most emotional devastating thing i've ever read and i fully needed 3-5 business days to recover. rude. i want 100 more.
untitled by morganas-pendragons. notes: PAIN i love this so much.
ache by morganas-pendragons. notes: just scoop my heart out of my fucking chest i don't want it anymore after reading this.
a mind full of blissful terrors by @magiccath. notes: simply fucking amazing.
light in the dark by @i-imagine-my-doctor. notes: screaming please i adore this so much.
baby talk by @kisstherainwriting. notes: THE ABSOLUTE CUTIEST EVER. there's not enough clara fics and this had me squealing and feeling all warm and fuzzy!!!
holding my hand by kisstherainwriting. notes: angst galore this was STUNNING.
in another's eyes by @cas-kingdom. notes: PERFECTION.
where do we go now series by @theetherealbloom. notes: literally so fucking amazing i don't have enough words.
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marauders.
the winner takes it all by @ellecdc. notes: brb faye is having a STROKE--
come back, be here series by ellecdc. notes: i think i had a full on stroke while reading this series. the attention to detail is insane. the characterisation is perfect.
i don't know you anymore (maybe i never really did) by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels. notes: SCREECHING i'm in love you don't understand.
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bridgerton.
➡ anthony bridgerton.
distractions by @peterpparkrr. notes: simply immaculate.
right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch. notes: did you mean one of my favourite tropes bc this is it.
right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & @thirteenisles. notes: i felt feral after reading this tbh.
➡ sibling!reader.
reluctant caretaker by @rubysunnday. notes: this fic hit my heart in all the right places okay sibling stuff means everything to me.
did she have a cookie by rubysunnday. notes: a joyous read from start to finish i CACKLED the whole way through.
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moon knight.
come back to me by @mgparker. notes: still sobbing. immaculate.
the other sarcophagus by @starryevermore. notes: i literally reread this constantly i adore it so much!!
marc spector x reader by @softlyspector. notes: i had an aneurysm reading this and i haven't been the same since.
more marc spector x reader by softlyspector. notes: i am having an intense emotion hold on. anytime i see autistic stuff in canon content for any fandom i SQUEAK. and this is so well done honestly.
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star wars.
heartless by @youvebeenlivingfictional. notes: i reread this constantly, it's so amazing and heartwrenching and beautiful and i want to eat it.
little talks by @light-yaers. notes: you simply do not understand how much i adore everything beff writes. i adore this fic more than i need oxygen to breathe.
right where you left me series by light-yaers. notes: personality-defining series. i LIVE for this fic. every update adds five years to my lifespan. if you're not reading this you are MISSING OUT.
a light, a song, a bluebird by @millllenniawrites. notes: made me SOB 10/10 would recommend if you like emotional trauma.
invisible string by @campingwiththecharmings. notes: pining!!! loneliness!!! i adore!!!
hard landings by @softlyspector. notes: no. no you don't understand. this fic doesn't just own my soul it is my soul. i want it tattooed on my face.
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misc.
hopper x reader by @luveline. notes: you don't understand this might be the cutest shit i've ever read and jade is a fellow welsh person which automatically makes them brilliant in my book.
muña by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: alicent means fucking everything to me and this had me sobbing.
mistletoe magic by @writingsbychlo. notes: literally the cutest fucking thing ever, had me kicking my legs and squealing!!
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thinkinonsense · 9 days
Note
for more logan angst, would you consider doing a "one year later" or something like that follow-up to dbf!logan and the i love you fight?
i miss you, i'm sorry-dbf!logan howlett x fem!reader
part one
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456 days after
everyday your words haunted logan. he could picture you with tears in your eyes so clearly. he still went down to your fathers bar; needing something to cope. you left shortly after the fight, using the money you had saved up from working at the bar to get an apartment a couple towns over. there needed to be distance between you and logan but it seemed that no where was far enough.
logan knew every tiny detail about your life since you left. your father shows him pictures of how you decorated your apartment and tells him about the new boyfriend you've got. he should be happy; you got out before logan could get you hurt. instead, he's been drinking himself to sleep most night. your favorite bra and sleeping shorts still sat in his bedroom dresser, untouched but they still smelled like you.
"she comes home next week." your father says, pouring logan another glass of whiskey. "her mom and i are throwing her a small welcome home party, you should come by."
as if logan wouldn't feel more like a dick, he had also drove you away from your parents. always coming up with an excuse for why you can't come visit.
"i'm not sure–"
logan was cut off by your father again.
"c'mon, bud. i don't wanna be the only guy there." he jokes, excited to see you but just maybe not your friends that your mom invited.
"uh, sure." logan sighs, taking another swig from the glass. he desperately hoped that your father would forget or that logan could come up with some excuse.
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your thumbs drum anxiously at the steering wheel as you drive down your old street. the nerves were finally hitting, too late to turn back like you had many times before. all of your friends cars sat in the driveway, you can't cancel on them again.
logan could smell you before you even got out of your car. he's down in the basement with your dad and a few of the guys from the bar. his mind was anywhere except present as he focused solely on you.
"that should be her, fellas." your dad smiles, getting up to greet you upstairs with the others. "i'll be back."
logan finished his beer and wondered if he should sneak out or fake some emergency. was he even ready to you again? how would you react?
"hey, logan? could you come help bring in some bags?" your father yells down the stairs.
"logan?" your voice was shaking at the mention of the man who shattered your heart.
this isn't the time to be crying. just get through dinner and then you can drive home; tell them you can't stay the night. fuck, what were you going to do?
"welcome home, sweetheart." logan mumbles with a slight nod, walking past you and out the door.
it was hard to mask your anger. one of your friends pours you a glass of wine and brings you to the living room, away from logan. your dad and him bring in your suitcases and sit them in your old bedroom. all of it felt like when you step off a roller coaster; dizzy, slightly confused, wanting to go again.
at the table, your mom asks about your new boyfriend. logan couldn't stand you going on and on about how great this guy was. so great that he's too busy to come home with you.
"so, do you think he's 'the one'?" one of your friends asks.
"um... i'm not sure." you shrug, catching logan's eye. "but i know he loves me and that's all that matters."
you might as well shot logan in the chest with that one.
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one too many glasses of wine and two beers later, almost everyone was starting to clear out. everyone except for logan. he's not sure why he didn't leave sooner. perhaps it was your presence that made him stay. even if you were pissed at him still, you were still here, still near him.
"i'm gonna go get more beer from the garage." you tell your friends, stumbling a little to your feet.
the truth was that you needed some air. too consumed by logan's heated gaze. you made it down the porch steps before you heard the screen door open and close.
"i don't need any help." you call out over your shoulder.
the foot steps sounded much closer by the time you flicked on the light switch.
"don't you think you've had enough to drink tonight?" logan asks, shutting the garage door behind him.
"i can drink however much i want." you slur slightly. "i am an adult after all ."
"i know, you're an adult."
"are you sure? because wasn't it just a little over a year ago that you were still treating me like a child?"
"if you don't want to be seen as a child, then don't act like one."
"fuck you, logan." you hiss, slamming the fridge door.
"oh sure, it's fuck me for sayin' the truth." logan rolls his eyes.
"it's fuck you for breaking my heart."
"do you think that you didn't break my heart by leaving?"
"i left because you told me to go!" you cried, finally letting the tears flow. "i said i loved you and you got scared like a little kid."
"i got scared because you shouldn't love someone as fucked up as me." he snaps, voice becoming strained.
"did you serious think i didn't know?"
logan looks at you stunned. how did you...?
"you talk in your sleep. it wasn't hard to piece together after that." you answer with sigh. "your mutation doesn't scare me."
there's a moment of silence between the two of you. logan steps forward, touching a lock of your hair; vanilla body wash flooding his senses. he's missed you so much.
"your stuff is still in my drawers." logan whispers. you know what he means; he's never been good with expressing his emotions but you always could tell what he meant. "want ya' to come home, sweetheart."
logan's rough palm moves up to cup the side of your face. your torn between shoving him away or pulling him closer. without a second thought, you nuzzle into his touch. old habits die hard.
"i can't." you tell him.
"yes, you can–"
"no. you don't love me, lo."
"i do, i want to be with you." logan begs, fighting off his tears.
"you love when i'm in bed with you or when we listen to records and do cross word puzzles together, but you are not in love with me." you tell him, lightly removing his hand from your face. "i can't be with someone who hides from me, someone who can't even say out loud that they love me. i'm sorry, logan."
you grab the case of beer and walk past him one last time. it was hell to leave him there but even logan knew he deserved it. he wasn't worthy of your love then and he defintely wasn't worthy of it now. you dodged the bullet that would leave him here to bleed out.
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l4mplight · 2 months
Text
Miquella and Trina; A Tragedy
Hey Tumblr. I have a lot of thoughts about Shadow of the Erdtree, and these ones... let's just say I don't think they'd do well on Reddit. It's not often that I feel particularly impacted by a particular fictional character. Usually I connect more with narrative arcs and themes, which is why I think I'm so drawn to the ephemeral, vibes based storytelling of Fromsoft's games. Playing through SOTE, though, I found Miquella (and St Trina) to be extremely emotionally compelling and relatable, and I wasn't sure exactly why. I think I've put my finger on it now though. First of all, know that I am writing from the perspective that Miquella is a sympathetic character. I know that it's not uncommon to read him as a manipulative Machiavellian villain, but I think that's both a misreading of the text as well as just plain boring. Like, he's not a Griffith clone you guys, give From some credit. Anyway, here we go.
"You have no understanding. Of Miquella the Kind. Of St. Trina's Love.
Content Warning: I'll be discussing themes of depression, and the implication of suicidal ideation.
So, a classic Fromsoftware theme is despair, and the ways we cope with a world full of it. It shows up twice in Shadow of the Erdtree; with Midra and the Frenzied Flame, where despair leads to a selfish nihilism that asks us to burn everything down, and with Thiollier and St Trina, who offer sleep as a comfort to the weary. Running a small errand for Thiollier has him say the following.
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"If you find yourself… weary of the weight of this life, then just give me the word. Sleep is a balm, and eternal sleep… is an elixir."
Drinking the elixir he offers will, of course, result in an instant death. This is our first encounter with the idea of "Eternal Sleep," a more potent form of the sleep status effect that only appears here in the Shadowlands, after St Trina has been abandoned. The Velvet Sword of St. Trina tells us as much: "Silver sword of St. Trina, now stained the color of velvet. Inflicts eternal sleep. When St. Trina was abandoned, the faint, light-purple mists coalesced into an intoxicating deep-purple cloud." In order to ascend to godhood, Miquella abandons first his physical body, and then the more abstract aspects of himself. As we begin to descend down the fissure where we'll find Trina, a cross marks the spot as the place where Miquella abandoned his love. This connects Trina, "the discarded half" as Thiollier puts it, with Miquella's love. Leda confirms this in her own dialogue:
"St. Trina's love for Kind Miquella is boundless. She is, after all, his other half. Or perhaps her feelings go beyond even that. Even if she was left behind, I doubt her heart would waver."
Keep that in mind, it'll be relevant later.
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Near the cross, a spirit offers up some of the most heartbreaking dialogue I've come across so far. The spirit gives us a bigger picture of Miquella's goals:
"Kindly Miquella... I see you've thrown away... something you should not have. Under any circumstances. How will you salvation offer... to those who cannot be saved? When you could not even save your other self?"
I teared up at this. The emotional impacted was aided by the fact that I ran into the spirit right after telling Moore to put his past behind him, leading him to rededicate himself to Miquella. He says:
"Hm. Maybe that’s Kindly Miquella’s love. Love for all the unloved. Love, to banish the pain."
Note here that Moore suggest Miquella's love will "banish the pain." This is also essentially what Trina's sleep does. It's a comfort to those in need. Anyway, between these two instances, we end up with a pretty good picture of the sort of god Miquella wants to become. He was already sympathetic to the outcasts of The Lands Between in the basegame, where he built Elphael and the Haligtree as a haven for those rejected by the Golden Order, such as the Albinaurics and Misbegotten we find there. In the Shadowlands, he has gone a step further. Hornsent tells us that he has committed himself, in essence, to righting Marika's wrongs.
"Miquella has said as much himself – he wishes now to throw it all away. He says the act – though undoubtedly painful – will sear clean the Erdtree’s wanton sin. The truth of his claim can be found at each cross. 'Tis evidence enough to earn my belief."
Of all of Marika's children, Miquella is the only one to see the serious flaws in her empire. Ymir points this out to us as well.
"No matter our efforts, if the roots are rotten, then we have little recourse. Ever-Young Miquella saw things for what they were. He knew his bloodline was tainted, his roots mired in madness. A tragedy if there ever was one. That he would feel compelled to renounce everything when the blame lay squarely with the mother."
My thinking here is aligned with Mother Ymir. You really have to feel for Miquella; he has essentially taken on, alone, the responsibility of making up for centuries of Golden Order imperialism. That's a massive burden to bear, especially for Miquella, cursed with eternal childhood.
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(It's easy to miss, but Miquella actually ages up significantly when we see him in god-form. Until he steps back through the Divine Gate, he would have looked and sounded like he does in the introductory art and in ending memory scene. Compare those with how he appears in the boss fight, and it's clear godhood at least helped him reach puberty lol) So we've established that Miquella is the child of Imperial Rome on Steroids, is cursed with eternal childhood, and is an empathetic prodigy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Surely his mental state is perfectly healthy, right? Right??
Final warning, this is where things get quite sad. Here is where I will try to tie Miquella's arc together with Thiollier and St Trina, and the comforting oblivion and relief from despair that sleep represents for them.
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As we search for St Trina, we descend down into the Stone Coffin Fissure. This is a place of death, with massive coffins built into the fissure walls, and Gravebirds, Bloodfiends and Putrescent enemies everywhere. St Trina is found at the deepest possible pit of this fissure, in a swamp of putrescence that has since blossomed into a garden of deep velvet lilies because of her influence. Trina offers us nectar of "eternal sleep," as Thiollier did previously, and as established then, "eternal sleep" is essentially nothing more than a peaceful death. Trina seems to fit in quite well in this place of ancient dead things, with some of the ancient remains even being compelled to fight for her in exchange for eternal rest, becoming the Putrescent Knight.
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(Side note for levity because we're about to get sad again; I love this guy. It's a knight made out of the skeleton of a horse, riding on that same horse's decaying flesh goop body. Like, ugh. Beautiful. Plus, it may even have taken that shape because of Trina sharing Miquella's memories of Radahn, who was never far from his horse Leonard...)
We meet St Trina in her garden, and when we imbibe her nectar, we eventually begin to hear her voice in our death-dreams. She seems to pity him. Mourn for him, almost.
"Make Miquella stop... Don't turn the poor thing into a god..."
Trina appears to be in a bad state after her fall. She can only manage to get a few words across to us at once. Just as Leda predicted, her heart hasn't wavered. She is only concerned with Miquella's well-being.
"Godhood would be Miquella's prison. A caged divinity... is beyond saving."
Trina's most pressing concern is that godhood will be a prison for Miquella. Now, this could in theory be because gods are subject to manipulation from the Fingers and the Greater Will or a similar reason, but given that she calls him a "poor thing," I think there is likely a more emotional reason behind Trina's plea. I think that Trina is speaking as the embodiment of Miquella's love, but especially his ability to love and care for himself...
"You must kill Miquella... Grant him forgiveness."
...and she asks us to kill him.
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In excising Trina from his being, I think Miquella also expelled the part of himself that was able to recognize how miserable divinity would be for him, and how miserable he was. The part of him that was tired of carrying the responsibilities that his compassion demanded of him. The part of him that was exhausted, despairing and desperate from having failed to cure Malenia, failed to save Godwyn, failed to perfect the Haligtree. St Trina is the part of Miquella that wanted to be stopped, to rest, to sleep, to die. In abandoning her as he does, Miquella is essentially repressing those thoughts and feelings, replacing them with more "selfless" ones; self-sacrifice, suffering on behalf of others, his martyrdom and apotheosis. I don't want to forget about "grant him forgiveness" either. She might mean forgiveness for failing to become a god, for not being good enough to succeed Marika and right her wrings. Maybe forgiveness for failing Malenia and Godwyn, or for leaving the Haligtree behind. Maybe even for abandoning her. But on the road to godhood, Miquella can't afford to indulge in this sort of self-pity. A child craves forgiveness and approval, a god must cast these things out.
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"I'm feeling rather lost. Haunted by memories. Of St. Trina. Her visage. Her scent. The lure of velvety sleep. Would Kindly Miquella chasten me? For falling for St. Trina, while knowing that she was the discarded half? The problem is… I simply cannot help it. I would sacrifice everything, just to gaze upon her, one last time."
I want to mention Thiollier one more time here too. His primary visual motif is the long white braids that he wears on his clothes, reminiscent of Miquella and Trina's own signature braids (remember, she looked like an older feminine Miquella before her fall and injury). Thiollier is obsessed with Trina, pursuing her to hear her voice and fade into the comfort of her velvet sleep, though this doesn't kill him like it does us. I don't think Thiollier is connected to Miquella in any textual way, but I think he does serve as a reflection of the sorts of thoughts Miquella may have been surpressing. The self-pity, the need for approval and love, the feelings of weakness and uselessness. These are the things that lead Thiollier to pursue endless slumber.
Thiollier doesn't give in to that despair, however. Though he initially takes St. Trina's words... poorly, he eventually realizes what must be done, and dedicates himself to his new purpose: carrying out her final wish.
"I am here to serve St. Trina evermore. I am deeply sorry. For doubting you. I am here only to grant St. Trina's singular wish. I will stop Miquella the kind. He will never become a god."
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This post is already quite long, but I also want to mention the obvious gender stuff going on here. There are a number of moments that make it seem as though St. Trina might actually be more than just "half" of Miquella. Firstly, as she is shown falling in the story trailer, Leda is describing how Miquella abandoned his fate, as if Trina had a vital role to play in Miquella's future. It also seems as though Trina isn't cursed in the same way that Miquella is; her voice and size indicate that she is at least more substantial than his "infant form," and she is depicted in "adult form, somewhat unnervingly" on the Torch of St. Trina. Furthermore, her "adult form" has a third eye in the middle of her forehead. The third eye is a symbol of enlightenment in both Hinduism and Buddhism; it seems that Trina has achieved some level of wholeness in this depiction. Meanwhile, when Miquella achieves godhood, his eyes remain permanently shut. He also appears to have only one physical arm. He holds Radahn with two incorporeal arms while casting with his real right arm, but his left arm appears to fade away to nothing before the elbow, as if unfinished. Miquella's blindness and asymmetry here, I think, reflect how unbalanced and incomplete his divinity is without Trina.
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One more hint towards St Trina being a part of Miquella's future lies way back at the Haligtree. In Malenia's bossroom, just above where Miquella's cocoon was once embedded into the tree, the branches and roots appear to form a silhouette. This could be Miquella, Trina, or both, but I do see a certain resemblance to Trina's depiction on the torch in the way the "hair" covers the eyes. Given that Miquella's body appears to have grown a decent amount inside of the cocoon when we see in at Mohg's palace, it's possible that the cocoon situation was his original attempt to cure himself of his own curse, or perhaps become a part of the Haligtree itself. In the Shaman Village, Marika's home, there is a similar scene. A woman's body that resembles Marika seemingly mummified within the hollow of a tree. I honestly have no idea what to make of that just yet, but I thought it worth a mention.
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So, with all that in mind, abandoning Trina seems to be even more significant. Not only has Miquella divested himself of his love and his fate, but maybe even his future, too. Being eternally nascent, he is always in a state of potential, after all. Am I suggesting that Miquella is a transfeminine character? That he was meant to grow up to become a goddess in the aspect of St. Trina, or maybe even more like Marika than he already is? Well, maybe. If you find it compelling, then absolutely. Fromsoftware's storytelling is always ambiguous, and is always design to leave us some room to read and interpret, to really play in the space we are given. Personally, I do find it compelling in a horribly tragic sort of way, fitting for the setting. It's also entirely possible that I have rather self-indulgently projected some of my own angst onto these character. I likely have, to be perfectly honest. It's rare that I really connect with a set of characters or a story like I have with this lot, and I hope that maybe some of you reading this will feel similarly. If you have read this far, thanks <3
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ridher · 25 days
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bsf!rafe who gets jealous when reader gets a bf even though he would have one night stands
you were over the moon to have finally found a good guy
an attractive kook boy who texted back reasonably, took you on cute dates, was overall respectful, and most importantly, wasn't scared off by your best friend.
you'd made the mistake before of introducing a guy you liked to rafe — the interaction ending up with you being ghosted the following day which you couldn't dismiss as being coincidental.
but this one was different. he let you take your time and didn't relay any intentions besides wanting to be the boy in your life. so you let him and after a couple months of sneaking around, he asked you out.
your first outing as a couple was a house party thrown by one of his friends — much to your disliking. you were excited to be seen out with your boyfriend though, so you agreed.
after opening the passenger door and helping you out of the truck, you made your entrance to the party with the arm of your boyfriend slung around your waist.
gently guiding you through the packed mansion with the same hand sliding to your lower back, he whispered repeatedly into your ear about just how beautiful he found you all dolled up.
even though it was a friend of his hosting the gathering, the boy only exchanged a casual greeting while accompanying you the rest of the night — such a small ask making you all giddy.
at this point, you were sipping on a sweet cocktail he'd made you, the effect of which only enhanced your giggles and the flush on your face. his welcome hands wandered across your little dress as you flirted like the lovesick couple you are.
it's when your eyes catch a familiar face, or faces across the room that your smile falters — it's topper and kelce mulling about drinking and trying to sell, meaning rafe must be somewhere throughout the house as well.
a pit forms in your stomach at the realization and despite the gesture of a warm kiss pressed beneath your ear meant to be reassuring, your muscles only tensed further.
the boy's hands squeeze at your flesh and you register his words after a moment due to your thoughts and the alcohol swarming your system — "you okay, baby?"
guilt washes through you at the nickname you're only used to your best friend using and at this point, you're overwhelmed.
"i'll be right back. restroom," you say softly while avoiding your boyfriend's gaze because suddenly, the atmosphere of the bustling partygoers floods your senses.
weaving through everyone without his guidance hurts and the empty feeling doesn't go unnoticed, but your focus is on the closed door you remember to be the bathroom from being brought over and introduced to all his friends.
you wait for only a few seconds that feel like forever before impatiently knocking on the door — loud, but not rudely.
lo and behold, none other than rafe cameron opens the door and looms over you a disheveled mess. the top buttons of his shirt are open, hair falling disorderly in front of his face while breathless as he glares down at you disoriented.
worst of all, you can see the red rims of his eyes and how he scratches at the base of his neck. your heart breaks for a multitude of reasons when the unmistakable voice of a girl speaks up from behind him asking, "rafey?"
unbeknownst to you, your recent absence in his life took a toll and he'd been coping with a nonexistent cooldown from various drugs and an influx of girls stopping by tanneyhill.
neither of you speak, just maintaining intense eye contact that probably says more than either of you could in this state.
the icing on the cake is your boyfriend inserting himself, stepping up to your side, and resting a possessive hand on your hip paired with a press of his lips to your hair.
everyone knew about you and rafe — best friends rumored to be more.
"what's goin' on?" he questions in a tone that shows he's trying not to sound suspicious.
there's no answer for a silent second of understanding from rafe's end as he glances over the guy, then back down at you with a scoff and inebriated smirk before he slams the door shut with an otherwise emotionless reaction.
the only sound on the other end is a girly squeal so you take the hint, walking off with your boyfriend in tow, ready for the nightmare of a party to be over.
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thebibliosphere · 10 months
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In case you were wondering how deep down the Batfam fixation hole I am, it's something I've actually been talking about in therapy a lot.
Not like, in a worried way, more just when my therapist asks me what I'm doing in my downtime, my answer always used to be either "sleeping" or "I don't have downtime. I have too much work to do."
Now my answer is "playing my Batman game" or "watching Batman show/reading comics/writing unhinged Batman x Muppet fanfic."
And my therapist is delighted. She's fucking ecstatic. She's like, "You have interests again!" and I'm like !!!! Because here's the thing.
Almost dying in 2019 kinda irrevocably fucked up my brain, like, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And I've been grieving over that for the last few years as well as recovering from the physical aspects of it. And to cope with it, I threw myself into work even though I wasn't physically or mentally well enough, and that made everything worse, and well, if you've been here, you know.
My brain has not been kind to me for a long time. It still isn't. But I do the work. I do multiple types of therapy a week. I piece myself back together on the daily and try to remember what it means to be human and not just this numb static void that sometimes sounds like shrieking if you listen too closely.
And then randomly, a few months ago a friend bought me Gotham Knights on Steam, and it was like a light turned back on. The engine that'd been refusing to turn over for years suddenly sputtered back to life, and something in my brain went, "Hey, I remember this... this is fun?"
And then I started tentatively searching the tags here on Tumblr, and yeah, actually. I remember this. I remember enjoying this. I can dip my toes into this. This is safe. This is a childhood interest from Before the almost-dying-trauma. And besides, it won't get in the way of my work. This isn't going to consume me. Nothing consumes me like it used to. I'm too broken for that.
Except, haha, jokes on me because, for some fucking reason, Brucie fucking Wayne and his gaggle of chaotic crime-fighting children is what reached into my brain, picked up my trauma, and started shaking it loose like a category 7 earthquake.
I actually laughed about that with my therapist a few weeks ago. Of all characters, of all pieces of media, it's Batman that's helping me process a significant chunk of my emotional trauma in a healthy way.
The most emotionally constipated vigilante in superhero existence, and I'm weeping like a child every time I get an achievement in Gotham Knights, and it says some bullshit like this:
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ID: a purple steam achievement icon that says: He'd Be So Proud Of You. Reach the maximum level as any member of the Batman Family. 6.3% of players have this achievement. /end ID.
(for context, Batman is dead in this game, and you are playing as his emotionally devastated children trying to keep it together. Wailing, gnashing, crying, throwing up etc, etc.)
And my therapist, who has sat with me through EMDR sessions and a multitude of other shit designed to rewire your brain, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes we need to externalize our emotions through safe media. For you, right now, that safety is Batman having a relationship with the Muppets."
And like... okay, yeah. I'll take the win on that one.
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