#clarissa suzanne sfth

[svnnyd4ys]

ohhh amanda and clarissa you make me illllllll

[you-know-cchio]

love how sam was just doing whatever the fuck he wanted on that stage. the man contributed maybe three plot points to the overall storyline and spent the rest of the longform being drunk, antagonizing aj, and showing off his knowledge of power tools through stagecraft.

[drownedscribe]

"But you still choose him. Okay." 😭😭 why can't we get happy sapphics for once?

[solo-walker]

Mark. I have so many thoughts about Mark. A boy growing up with an alcoholic for a father (he still hasn't stopped. Perhaps he can't, thinks Mark. Or won't). He turns to the local priest, seeking solace, but finds more jibes. More ridicule. More reminders of the fateful day when he failed to stop his father from getting behind the steering wheel. It's his fault, isn't it? Who cares if he was seven, he was already holding the tattered household together, he should've been more forceful, should've scolded and fought and gently guided his reeling father back inside should've done more but he didn't. He couldn't. He failed them and all he had to show for it was a coffin and his father's racous voice calling his name and a scar he swore he'd never let anybody touch because he'd be damned if he let anybody ignore him the way his father had when he'd spoken up, asking him, pleading him, to get out of the car. He'd be damned if he ever let anybody make him feel that powerless and small ever again.

Mark is such a great character and such a great example of how one's childhood affects one's behaviour as an adult. I love how you can see the traces and effects of the incidents of his childhood and his upbringing in his behaviour in the play. I love how you can see him try to deal with his problems but in all the wrong ways. Because he needs to hear an apology. He just needs his father to own up and say “i'm sorry”, to say, “it wasn't your fault, it was mine”.

But he ends up seeking this sense of closure through Clarissa.

[instantpansies]

cannot BELIEVE clarissa suzanne fumbled a dyke so hard. couldn't be me.

[artstantpansies]

clarissa suzanne/mark/amanda designs i frantically did yesterday :3 featuring kinda gelphie coded clamanda

[pulchrasilva]

amanda-centric fic about her exploring polyamory with clarissa titled after the line about clarissa suzanne being blessed with two names but only one heart

[svnnyd4ys]

if Amanda & Clarissa are 'Good Luck, Babe!' then Mark & Clarissa are 'Picture You'

[solo-walker]

Since the nutcracker theory by @instantpansies keeps me up at night, and the popular theory that the Silver Line is a sort of perceived 'safe haven' for children looking to escape their realities...

I've been wondering.

I've been wondering how easy it would have been for a young Mark to unknowingly slip into the Silver Line's clutches. How he could have found himself on the platform after that fateful accident, boarding the train as though automated. How he could have blissfully felt the memories grow fuzzy at the edges, every taunt, every shout, and the sound of the awful crash muffled. It would be nice to stay here, wouldn't it?

I've been wondering how easy it would have been for a young Mark to meet a certain girl on that train. She asks him his name. He cannot remember. Neither can she. How long has it been? It's hard to say. She looks scared. She tells him to leave while he still can. He wonders why he would want to do such a thing. He sits down. Buys a ticket.

I've been wondering how Mark may have felt the train carriages collapsing, the world dissolving as a portal seemed to make the tunnel collapse in on itself. I've been wondering if he found himself on a pavement somewhere, struggling to remember his own address. Had he fallen asleep there? He walks home. His father hasn't noticed he was gone. How long has it been?

And I wonder if many years later, he looked across at a group of girls and saw a certain face. A certain pair of eyes that looked back at him, widening slightly. He does not know why he walks over, introduces himself. And he does not why she looks at him with such wonder as he says his name. There's nothing surprising about being able to recall one's own name, is there? Mark brushes the matter aside.

How long has it been?