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ljf613 · 4 years

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Zuko’s Memory Bias

I’ve talked about Azula’s potential memory bias towards her mother. In that same thread, I mentioned that Zuko also has memory bias towards his parents. What I didn’t think about until I was writing my recent post on his relationship with Azula is how those same biases may have affected the way he perceives her.

(Warning: This is a very complex topic, and I suggest not reading/engaging if you find it potentially triggering or are unable to deal with it in a nuanced way. I am NOT trying to downplay abuse, nor am I trying to gaslight those who’ve been victimized by it.)

Azula the Liar

In “Zuko Alone,” we get a good sense of what Zuko’s life was like as a child. We see him interacting with his mother, sister, and (briefly) his father. And we get some insight into a line from “The Avatar State.”

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Avatar State.” Zuko: “You lied to me! [Cut to Azula, who appears confident.]” Azula: “[Smugly.] Like I've never done that before.”/ End ID]

There are two scenes in “Zuko Alone” where Zuko accuses Azula of lying to him. Look at these lines, and see if you notice a common denominator.

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Azula: “[Sing-songy.] Dad's going to kill you! [Seriously.] Really, he is.” Young Zuko: “Ha-ha, Azula. Nice try.” Young Azula: “Fine, don't believe me. But I heard everything. Grandfather said Dad's punishment should fit his crime. [Imitates Azulon.] ‘You must know the pain of losing a first-born son. By sacrificing your own!’“ Young Zuko: “Liar!” Young Azula: “I'm only telling you for your own good. I know! Maybe you could find a nice Earth Kingdom family to adopt you!” Young Zuko: “Stop it! You're lying! Dad would never do that to me!”/ End ID]

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Zuko: “Where's Mom?” Young Azula: “No one knows. Oh, and last night, Grandpa passed away.” Young Zuko: “Not funny, Azula! You're sick. And I want my knife back, now. [Zuko tries to grab it, but misses as Azula quickly moves out of the way, and loudly grunts.]”/ End ID]

Do you see it yet? Twice Zuko thinks Azula is making some kind of joke, and both times (as far as canon shows us, though I’ve seen headcanons that argue differently) Azula is actually telling the truth.

Azula has no qualms about lying to acheive her goals. We see this multiple times over the course of the series. But if all we had to go by was these two scenes, we might paint a very different picture.

Because there’s another, more subtle thing that both of these scenes have in common: both times, Zuko chooses to believe that Azula is lying, rather than accept that a parent (read: Ozai, because both of these things are really his fault) has failed him.

The Beast

There’s a kind of cognitive bias that often occurs with victims of abuse. Rather than try to explain it, I’ll give an example of a fictional character from a different story who is a very clear example of how and why it happens.

In book one of Trials of Apollo (The Hidden Oracle), we’re introduced to a girl named Meg McCaffrey. Meg is strong, tough, and great in a fight. She explains that it’s all because of her stepfather, who took her in off the streets and trained her. She seems to genuinely care about him, and talks about him affectionately.

But there’s another man in Meg’s life: The Beast. The Beast is a constant presence in her nightmares. He killed her first father, and we soon learn that he’s one of the primary antagonists of the story, and planning on destroying the world.

But eventually, we discover the truth: The Beast and Meg’s stepfather are the same person.

Meg’s stepfather is an abuser, one who’s used a common tool of abusers everywhere-- detatching from the tool he uses to abuse her and anthromorphizing it. “Don’t make me angry,” he says, “or you’ll wake up The Beast, and then whatever happens is on your head.”

And because Meg needs to believe that her stepfather cares about her, she projects all her negative feelings about him towards this figmentary “Beast” and blaming him for all the problems in her life.

Are we noticing the connection to Zuko and his relationship with his father yet?

My Father Loves Me

For the first two and a half seasons (especially in season 1), Zuko is convinced that deep down, his father loves him, cares about him, wants him back home. He has to believe that, because if he doesn’t, then what has been the point of everything he’s done until now?

Which means that tricking him into an Agni Kai and then burning his face must have been justified. It means that capturing the Avatar really will get him back his honor. It means that everything that’s gone wrong in his life is his own fault.

Or, at least, almost everything.

You’re Like My Sister

The first time we ever hear of Azula (other than that shot of her smiling at the Agni Kai in “The Storm”) is when Zuko is talking to (unconcious) Aang after he captures him in “The Siege of the North, Part 2.”

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Siege of the North, Part 2.” Zuko: “I finally have you, but I can't get you home because of this blizzard. [Stands up and looks outside the cave.] There's always something. Not that you would understand. You're like my sister. Everything always came easy to her. She's a firebending prodigy, and everyone adores her. My father says she was born lucky. He says I was lucky to be born. I don't need luck, though. I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight and that's made me strong. It's made me who I am.”/ End ID]

There’s something interesting happening here. This is the first time Zuko’s been able to be totally honest about his feelings around Aang, and what does he do? He starts comparing Aang to, of all people, Azula. He’s projecting. He clearly has all of these negative feelings towards Azula, but he can’t do anything about them. So instead, he’s taking it out on Aang.

Take every single interaction between Aang and Zuko in season one. Now realize that from Zuko’s perspective, he was dealing with his sister.

Taking Aang prisoner on his ship? Azula. Constantly trying to capture Aang, only to be outsmarted by him? Azula. Shooting a blast of fire when Aang extends a potential hand of friendship? Azula.

Because Aang, like Azula, is a perceived obstacle between himself and his father’s love.

Father Says She Was Born Lucky

Ozai didn’t just belittle Zuko-- he pitted his children against each other. He made it clear to Zuko that, even from the moment he was born, he would never, ever be as good at his sister.

And all of this has caused a lot of rage and turmoil inside of Zuko. As self-depricating as he is, he does realize that not everything that’s gone wrong in his life is his fault. But we’ve already established that blaming his father would shatter his worldview.

So who else does he have to blame?

Azula.

Azula, who was born lucky. Azula, who’s just so perfect. Azula, the prodigy. Azula, who everyone adores. Azula, who got everything. Azula, who always lies.

Azula Always Lies

Zuko talks a lot about honor. He talks a lot about capturing the Avatar. But when he’s stressed, when he’s feeling pressured, when he’s thinking about all the ways his life has gone wrong, he uses a different mantra.

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Zuko: “[Chanting in a low voice.] Azula always lies. Azula always lies.” Cut to the older Zuko, lying in green grass, holding his traveler's hat to his chest. Zuko: “Azula always lies.”/ End ID]

Azula always lies.

”Azula always lies” is comforting. It means “father doesn’t really consider me a miserable failure.” It means “he was never really going to kill me.”

Instead of getting angry at all the ways his father has failed him, Zuko can just blame it on Azula’s lies. That way he doesn’t ever have to admit the real problem.

Now, I’m not saying that Azula was a perfect sister, or even a particularly good one. I’m not saying that she never lied, because we know she did. I’m not saying she didn’t hurt him, or trick him, or manipulate him. What I’m saying is that Zuko’s skewed perception has lead him to blame her not only for all the ways she hurt him, but also all the ways Ozai failed him.

“Okay,” you’re saying. “Say I agree with you. Say we assume that all of his negative feelings that really should have been directed at Ozai were instead directed at Azula. But that doesn’t matter now. Zuko eventually did realize that his father was wrong. They had a whole dramatic confrontation where Zuko told him what a horrible father he was and everything! He’s not projecting anymore, and his current feelings towards his sister should only be indicative of her actions and behaviors. Right?”

Wrong.

How Cognitive Bias Works

Cognitive bias is insidious. It doesn’t just affect one memory, it ripples outwards, affecting all of them. And the vast majority of the time, we don’t even notice it happening.

Zuko called Ozai out for two things, and two things only.

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Day of Black Sun, Part 2: The Eclipse.” Zuko: “For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, to accept me. I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn. [Points a broadsword at his father.] My father, who challenged me, a thirteen-year-old boy, to an Agni Kai. [Cuts to shot of Ozai, looking angered.] How could you possibly justify a duel with a child?”/ End ID]

Zuko blames Ozai for his banishment, and for the Agni Kai. That is it.

To be clear, I am not saying that Zuko thinks Ozai was a perfect father before all of this. Not at all. Zuko is aware that Ozai is “the worst father in the history of fathers.”

But it isn’t like he’s gone back and inspected every single memory that involved Ozai and pinpointed all of the ways Ozai abuzed, manipulated, and gaslit him. He can’t. That requires both a level of objectivity he hasn’t reached, as well as a frame of reference for what normal looks like. Any victim of abuse-- especially childhood abuse-- will tell you that even though they know they were abused, they will often have or witness random interactions that will leave them thinking, “wait, this is what normally happens in this kind of situation? You mean [x] was also part of the abuse?”

Not to mention that while Zuko didn’t examine his feelings towards Azula at any point before the finale. He had his epiphany about Ozai, and realized that his father had been wrong, but he’d always thought Azula was wrong.

So while Zuko is aware that he had a bad father, he hasn’t actually stopped to consider how much of his anger towards his sister is actually about his father.

(Again, I’m not blaming Zuko. None of this is his fault, any more than he’s at fault for the Air Nomad Genocide or the war. It’s just the reality of his situation.)

Conclusion

So what am I saying here?

I’m saying that Zuko’s perception of his sister-- his anger, his frustration, his understanding of who she is-- is fundamentally biased. I’m saying Zuko isn’t viewing her from her own merits. I’m saying that Zuko doesn’t actually know her. He thinks he does, but he’s wrong.

I’m adding another thing to the list of reasons why Zuko is not the person to try and help Azula through her trauma.

I’m giving yet another example of how the fandom’s perception of Azula is also biased-- because the vast majority of our understanding of Azula’s character comes from Zuko.

And unlike Zuko, we can detach ourselves from the narrative enough to realize that it might be worthwhile to re-examine our view of her.

#avatar the last airbender #meta #fire sibs #thoughts #zuko and azula #zuko #selective memory #cognitive bias #azula #ozai #zuko and ozai #toxic family #cycle of abuse #toxic siblings #fire nation royal family #abuse #food for thought #all queued up

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years

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Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

Hi elliechan! I’ve already written friendship hcs for Venti but I never want to leave anyone hanging (unless the dupe request is incredible specific and I can’t add onto it anymore) so think of it as a part 2. But if you haven’t seen Part 1 yet, I added a link.

Also, I would like to credit fulltimeventisimp for helping me out with this fic. My monkey brain couldn’t think of anything for Venti but they gave me literally a fics worth of content. PLEASE IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY, MAKE IT AN ACTUAL FIC! I LOVED IT! I tried my best to not piggy back too hard off it but if it does seem that way, let me know and I’ll definitely change it.

But thank you 💕💕💕

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Part 1: Venti Frienship HCs

Xiao: Frienship HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten

Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

Venti

The first time you met the bard, it was when you were visiting Mondstadt as a small pit stop. He was sat on top of some wooden boxes, next to an apple vendor, singing a short ballad. You’ve never encountered bards throughout your journey and he did have a lovely singing voice so you decided to stay a bit and listen in. It felt like the wind itself was carrying his voice throughout the streets but you couldn’t help but feel a bit...melancholy from his tune. Was it homesickness? You clapped with the crowd when the bard finished and on a whim, you decided to buy him a small bag of apples. He seemed to like them as he only asked the apple vendor to gift him two for his efforts. When you paid your purchase the bard seemed to be in a deep conversation with the same vendor that you didn’t want to disturb them, after all you weren’t going to be in Mondstadt for long. So you placed the small bag of apples beside the bard’s lyre with a quick thank you note, a couple extra coins, and continued on your journey.

You didn’t expect that small act of kindness would lead to anything but when you were preparing for bed, the same bard popped his head outside your window and almost gave you a heart attack. This bard was lucky he didn’t catch you while you were changing your clothes or else things might have turned ugly. He wanted to thank you for your generous donation which you simply waved off explaining that throughout your journey, you never met anyone that could sing quite like him. A small token of appreciation. Perhaps it was because you fed his ego too much or other reasons but that seemed to peak the bards interest and ask about what other fascinating places you’ve been too. You talked about the horrible mountain you needed to climb through to reach Mondstadt, the shining electro lamps of Inazuma that would spark if you got too close, to the clear pools and lotus heads in Liyue.

“You’ve been around all over the place! Perhaps you would allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

“Hm? Is that so? Why don’t you come with me? Go outside the walls of Mondstadt and explore. So you can write your own ballad instead of others.”

“Is this another acting whim of yours?”

“Haha, perhaps.”

Unsurprisingly, you don’t see the bard the next day. It was probably a lot to suddenly ask a stranger to drop everything and come with you to unknown places. But you decided to stay in Mondstadt for a short while and see what the City of Freedom had to offer. From meeting the supposed gliding champion and learning a few pointers, to the mysterious Calvary Captain who you were sure was probably the shadiest person you’ve ever met, to the aloof red headed tavern owner. You weren’t much of a drinker but everyone in Mondstadt, especially the knights, seemed to really enjoy their wine and were incredibly friendly to strangers. On the night you were planning to leave Mondstadt, the rowdy knights you’ve became friends with decided to celebrate and urge you to drink to your hearts content (please drink responsibly haha). You must have been a bit tipsy when you met the bard for a second time, introducing himself properly as Venti. You could blame it on the alcohol when you suddenly challenged him to a drinking contest but it was the most fun you had in a while. You were pretty sure everyone got kicked out but as you leaned against Venti absolutely hammered, laughing about the silliest things, it was the most freeing feeling you’ve ever felt.

From then on, even after you had left the City of Freedom, you could would randomly see Venti pop up sometimes. Should it be at Starsnatch Cliff or all the way in Wolvendom, you would see a few fluffy feathers appear as the bar- Venti announced his arrival. You were pretty sure Venti was bored whenever he visited you to see what you were up to but you didn’t mind. His liveliness nature was addicting and you were an easy going person. Though, some of the jokes he made, made you a bit suspicious of him. Whenever he would say that Andrius was secretly a grumpy mother hen or that Dvalin was actually a shy sweetheart.

“You sure do know a lot about Mondstadt. You sure you’re just a bard Venti?”

“Hmm, well it shouldn’t hurt to tell you. I am Barbatos. The Anemo Archon of Mondstadt. Pleasure to make your acquaintance..-again.”

“I see...and yet you still get ID checked?”

“Rude!”

Outside of Mondstadt, Venti is a whirlwind of emotions. Always wanting to see what’s changed or linking your hands and dragging you off to some far off chest he found. How did his small body have so much strength to nearly pop your arm out? He did come in handy during your Liyue expeditions since he can give you a small boost to just reach the top of that cliff. You thought violet grass was bad, it should be illegal for Qingxin flowers to grow on the very top of mountains. Venti thinks it’s really sweet that you put so much faith in his winds to let yourself fly when he uses his elemental skill. Though, it’s a bit of a double edged sword. When you finally reach the very top and you’re waiting for Venti to join you, he might pretend to loose control and throw himself off the cliff. You sometimes forget he’s literally the anemo archon and you’re ready to go gliding after him before he pops up in front of you to give you another scare. While he’s laughing, you’re already planning how to sneak slime condensate into his hat.

“You should have seen your face! I didn’t know you could scream like that! Liyue must think a banshee is haunting their mountains again!”

“Watch yourself gremlin, you might wake up without hands tomorrow.”

“Haha, you wouldn’t do that...right? How would you even do that? Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

“Isn’t there a saying in Liyue Venti? You can’t run from your debts? Prepare yourself.”

For as child-like Venti appears, you both end up getting into a bit of trouble when Venti get’s a bit too bold. While it’s incredibly refreshing to see someone speak their mind regardless of the consequences, you actually kind of admire him for that, usually the boldness comes from trying to bribe the bartender for free drinks. Your poor wallet is crying out every time Venti spots a new tavern. While he say’s he will pay you back or he’ll pay you back in a song, you can’t actually eat his words. But on other occasions you can’t help but join in when it happens to be one of the Fatui guards giving you both a hard time. You feel like you’re acting out a Shakespearian play with all the flowery nonsense and metaphors you’re both spitting out.

When you’re both in the thick of a forest or even on top of Liyue’s mountain, Venti will bring his lyre out and strum his strings softly as you both fall into a comfortable silence. Looking at the sunset or relaxing under the trees as the sun peaks through as you both live in the moment. It’s these times that you’re harshly reminded that Venti is an archon as he slips out of his persona and speaks as Barbatos. He tells you how fun your adventures have been, that he was glad to have made friends with you, speaking as if you’re about to die tomorrow. You’re not sure how to handle it, what kind of burden Venti is carrying, but you immediately drop everything and comfort him. Giving him a strong but warm hug that you’re still here and he’s not alone right now.

“Come on, I’m still waiting for the Ballad of Venti. You haven’t given up on that right?”

“Hmph, of course not. Every being deserves a name to be called upon, and woven into a song.”

Diluc

It was a peaceful day, one Diluc hadn’t felt in a long time in his hectic life. Though it was a bit too early to determine how the day would go since it was still noon. The tavern would soon get loud as it approached night but for now. Everything was peaceful. The sounds of Monstadt streets bustling. The peaceful atmosphere as the sun shone through the windows. Working on mundane tasks of wiping the counter down. No Kaeya in sight. A small moment of peace. All broken when his door was kicked nearly off its hinges as you announced your return from your shopping trip as if you had returned after a 3 year long journey. Diluc sighs under his breath, takes a moment to pray he doesn’t need to repair his door again, and helps you with your bags as you ramble about your day.

To others, it’s always seems a bit weird when they catch Diluc and you chatting since Diluc always gives off the lone wolf persona and yet you’re this ball of sunshine. Maybe it’s because you knew Diluc when he was a child, back when he was still bright-eyed, that you never treated him any differently when he came back. Diluc never really talks about it but he’s happy that you’re still the same and he can let himself relax with you. He still keeps his silent demeanor as he listens to you talk about anything and everything, it helps keeps his mind occupied, but he might add a few comments here and there. Just to let you know he’s still listening.

You know what sounds really hot? Sitting in the same room with someone while you both do your own respective thing. You both don’t feel forced to talk to each other just because you’re in the same room or you have to do everything together just because you’re together. It’s an easy atmosphere that settles as Diluc works on business papers and you’re planning your next expeditions. Until you end collapsing on his couch because your brain processing has suffered enough and it’s time to take a nap. You always end up dragging him out of his work to go outside and take a nice doze in the sun.

If you ever have a problem, he won’t necessarily coddle you unless it really bothers you or you’re in a situation where it could hurt you, but he’ll do everything to help you work through it. You’re his friend and if someone is giving you a hard time then he has no problem chasing them away, especially if its a Fatui member. If it happens to be Kaeya, well that’s an entirely different story. Likewise, if it appears to you that Diluc is going through a rough time you’ll try and comfort him. Do small little things to let him know that you care and while he doesn’t need to tell you what’s wrong, you’re here to support him.

Diluc enjoys playing chess against you, even if he wins most of the time, you’re always so determined that he can’t help but laugh along with your over reactions. Presenting him an entire 20 page paper on chess and yet getting checkmated in 10 turns. You’re 95% sure all the chess strategies he offered were all fake, if his smug grin is anything to go by. You both have agreed to never play darts together, well more specifically, you’re pretty sure you’re banned from playing darts when you almost hit Adelinde. That was the first time you ever genuinely feared for your life.

Whenever Diluc has to attend a gala or has to host a party to further his business, he’s always appreciative when you show up. You’re not exactly apart of royalty or even a business owner but it’s so refreshing to Diluc, after spending so much time keeping a polite attitude and trying to talk business, when he can come to you as you laugh about how one lady almost tripped because her dress was too long. Sometimes he’ll lean a bit on you or pretend to be in a conversation just so he can recharge.

More often then not, you’re mistaken to be Diluc partner even though the idea of holding Diluc’s hand makes you want to throw up. But when Diluc get’s random father’s trying to offer their daughter’s hands in marriage, he’ll pull the excuse he’s already with someone if they can’t no for an answer. It’s always funny to you, linking arms with Diluc and re-telling the grandiose story about how Diluc saved you from falling off a cliff when you were both younger and you were both star-crossed lovers that were destined to be together. Or something like that, you’re pretty sure you’ve changed the story enough times that you can’t keep track. But it seems to work and as soon as they are out of ear’s reach you make a quick gagging motion. He shoves you a bit to which you elbow him in the side. Old habits die hard.

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I swear, I could probably recite character stories word for word at this point. Gripping my writing hand don’t make it angsty, don’t make it angsty, don’t fucking do it. But I still did, whoops.

I feel like my fics are really long so I’ll add a read more tag. Mmm writing styles are hard. I don’t know if I like this;; I ended up writing so much to try and combine my “hcs are just another word for fics just without the dialogue” and “actual headcanons” styles. Ahh, well whatever. I have to go speedrun my assignments since genshin is going to eat all my time this week.

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daaziscoolbesties · 3 years

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minecraft endermen are really weird. theyre unnatural and make me feel off.

when i was a small child like seven years ago i would always play minecraft on creative mode and i made an ugly ass enderman "farm" made out of bricks. i had an enderman spawn egg and id just spam it and the enderman couldnt get out (so i thought). anyways having them in this enclosure was probably so i could feel "powerful" over them because to date theyre still the only mob in minecraft that makes me anxious. even above skeletons(which i used to have a horrible fear of (the real life ones not mc ones)) and spiders (which i still have a horrible fear of (again the real life ones not mc)). anyways the endermen just ended up completely teleporting out of the farm and i checked on my world the next day and they were all gone and i didnt appreciate it (this was the same world where my brother blew up my pets but thats a different story).

anyways back to endermen. besides the fact that i just didnt like dying and i did like building ugly structures, one of the main reasons i didnt play survival much for a while, or if i did id put it on peaceful, was because of the enderman. every time i passed one my heart would drop and if i happened to look it in the eye on accident my throat would feel like its closing up and idk why. if it sounds like im bullshitting you or not remembering correctly i swear im not because it still happens actually.

i play survival a ton more now simply because i enjoy it more, it feels like theres actually a goal to achieve, but i never really make efforts toward said goal(ya know, beating the dragon). none of my worlds are really created with the intention of beating the dragon, and therefore i dont have to worry about endermen. if i happen to be outside my house and theres one there, no worries i just wait for it to go away. it may spook me for a sec but im fine.

but recently me and my sister started a world with the sole purpose of beating the dragon. we may have cheated a little (like putting on keep inventory cause honestly we both suck at pvp and have died so many times) but its okay cause thats it. we still have to fight endermen to get pearls for the end portal. and so we were hanging out in the nether and made a little two block tall hidey hole and id stand by the front and taunt endermen to get them to come close so i could kill them without them being able to get to me and it worked really well actually. except for the fact that to get them to come near i had to get them to aggro onto me and to do that i have to look them in the eye and you know where this is going. and so i was like "it has been so long since i looked an enderman in the eye surely i cant still be scared of them" and i turn to my sister like "<sister> you stay in the hole ill get us some pearls"

so i go out and taunt the dudes and guess what bitch got the pit in their stomach from these fuckers!! thats right bestie and my throat started to close up and i started talking to my sister again but i could tell me voice was off from it and i dont know why it happens but it pisses me off. like theyre not even scary looking theyre just a bit odd. and i continue to do this and kill the endermen and it just. doesnt. stop. my throat keeps closing up and im not "in pain" or anything just inconvenienced like what the fuck dude its a bunch of fucking pixels. i dont know its weird.

and now this part is gonna sound super fuckin stupid but ever since i started watching dsmp i immediately got attached to ranboo (cc! and c!) and knowing that c!ranboo was half enderman made me really think "hm endermen arent that bad. granted i havent interacted with one in a while but still not that bad. perhaps my favorite hostile mob" because you know people get attached to characters and think dumb things. and then again ranboo's character straight up existing and also this one specific headcanon i saw that was like "endermen use telepathy to talk so when a player looks at them all their thoughts get projected into them and it hurts their brain :((" makes me feel kinda bad for aggro-ing them and killing them again even though its literally just some pixels dude. my brain is not kind to me about this stuff and its really dumb.

i dont know what about the endermen staring back at me sets off the sort of fight-or-flight that makes me unable to breathe for a second but its something. its not the fact that their jaws basically unhinge when theyre mad because the throat closing up sensation happens before that. it happens when i look at an enderman and it looks back up at me and holds my gaze. i dont know. i dont know why im worked up(even slightly) over a video game. theyre still my favorite hostile mob i think (not just because of ranboo honestly the other hostile mobs just kinda suck).

and also i like the idea of how humanoid they are. not human. humanoid. they have the basic aspects of a minecraft human- square, head, torso, legs, arms, eyes. most mc skins dont even have mouths anyways just eyes. but the endermen have these features differently than us. their eyes are unnatural, legs and arms too long, body all one color, one that can blend in, and you can only see its purple eyes staring you down from a distance. theyre basically just cryptids.

despite skeletons and even zombies looking closer to the player than the endermen, they still seem the most human-like of all of the mobs. they arent aggressive unless provoked. they dont like eye contact(socially awkward). they like picking up stuff and moving it around. theyre curious (i cant explain this one they just are, okay?). even the sounds they make are just phrases like "hey" "hello" "whats up" distorted and in reverse.

i want to know more about them.

i want to know where they came from.

why theyre found in every dimension.

why they sound like us.

i want explanations, i want to know why they scare us.

i want to know if they know.

if they know that we're like them in some way.

that some of us dont mean harm, but for others thats all they want to do to the endermen.

i saw a post once that said "what taught humans to be wary of things that look human, but arent?" i believe the phenomenon is called uncanny valley. what if in the minecraft universe, the thing that taught us that was endermen. or rather, the thing that taught the endermen that was us? because again, the endermen pose no threat to us unless theyre provoked. by one of us. the endermen try to communicate with us- "⊑⟒⊬" "⍙⊑⏃⏁⌇ ⎍⌿?"- but we kill them without reason. thats why they dont like eye contact, its been ingrained in them through evolution that eye contact with a human/player will end in death, and they dont want it to be theirs, so they attack first.

we- or rather, the first minecrafters, maybe (in the lore(?)) people before the game, taught the endermen to fear us. i mean we literally kill them, use their remains to enter their home dimension, and then kill their leader/mother. they do their best to stop us, but we can respawn and they cant. and then, some people even go as far as to make farms, having them all spawn in one place, crowded, cant teleport out- their only defense mechanism gone- and then are slaughtered for their pearls. and due to the mass of these farms there will be chests upon chests full of pearls that no one's using, i saw someone the other day ask what people do with them and someone straight up said they just burn them like god what a waste.

"but izzy, players make mob farms all the time and not just for endermen!!!1!!11! why are the endermen ones so bad why are you only talking about those1!1!1!!!1" 1) because i can, 2) this is an endermen-themed post, and 3) i dont like the other mobs. and of course im not actually mad at the players who like beating the game and making endermen farms and such, i mean thats what it is its all just a game just a bunch of code, 0's and 1's, so why does it matter why bother writing a whole post on it?

because when you look paste the game, when you read in between those ones and zeroes and discover this non-intentional lore, it can make things so much more,, interesting. this is fanfic material. hell, its probably fanart material too. its all for the content to see what the community can create i guess. or maybe i just really like talking about endermen and this has been on my mind for two days now and once i started typing i couldnt stop.

but yeah, thats my final thoughts.

we, humans, experience uncanny valley about the endermen.

but the endermen experience uncanny valley about the players.

#time is empty and thoughts are yes #long post #endermen #minecraft enderman #minecraft #minecraft lore #lore #tw video game death #not really sure if i need to put that since a lot of stuff in minecraft is killing stuff but might as well stay on the safe side with it #god this might be even longer than my other post #at least i formatted it this time #sorta #this post went from endermen make me feel weird to oOoOo psychology at 3 am with no proof real quick #and gonna be honest thats not at all what i had planned but its okay

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poppys-writing · 4 years

Text

a continuation of this drabble, and this time with our Hero!! Caretaker will be in the next ;)

Hero woke to a start in a poorly lit, cheap motel. Scanning the room with their eyes, they found Sidekick passed out on the sofa beside them, the bed all to themself. Sidekick’s got to stop doing that they, deserve rest too, Hero reminded themself. They tried to sit up to go wake Sidekick and switch spots, but were met with immediate and flaring pain - resulting in a loud cry and an exasperated fall back on to the pillows.

Sidekick immediately stirred, jumping from their cramped nap on the cheap sofa to Hero’s side. “Relax, relax!” Sidekick eased, watching Hero’s pained and stressed expression as it broke their heart. “Don’t try to sit up. Don’t know if you remember, but you took one hell of a fall.”

A fall? What were they falling from in the first place? Guess that means I don’t remember it. “Gimme the rundown of what happened, and quick. We gotta get home, I bet Caretaker’s worried sick about me.”

Sidekick opened their mouth for a moment, closed it and thought of how to begin, then sat on the beside to describe the tale of horrible events. “For starters, we were ambushed. Tipped off about Villain’s scheme to blow the base of the Centennial Tower while the Chancellor hosted a party of ambassador and world leaders. Y’know, the important type. Anywho, as I said, run-of-the-mill ambush. Right? Wrong! They had some cyber techno-shit beyond the usual, I’m talking 3D projections and all, it was actually quite impressive if ya ask me-”

“Sidekick. Focus.” Hero snapped back at them. Sidekick gave a sheepish grin in return, then continued on.

“Sorry boss, you know how I get about that stuff, but anywho. You got the civilians out, I dealt with the techno-shit ‘cause that’s my usual business, but things got screwy and we ended up backed in a corner by one of the bots. It had targeted me, but you tackled it instead, and went tumbling through the glass and through the penthouse. Don’t know how you landed exactly, but it’s a miracle you’ve been able to regenerate so far. Obviously took a beating to the head, with all that crusty dried blood, but nothing that a couple days won’t fix.”

Hero expected much worse. They wiggled their fingers and toes to make sure all was healing right - and yep, except for the usual pain and slight tingly numbness that comes from the typical severe head trauma, all was functioning. So what’s the catch? Usually waking up in a motel instead of their cozy bed with Caretaker bedside them and the pets in-between means things went more south than usual on a botched mission. “That it, Sidekick?”

“Well, there’s one more thing...we were getting ambushed because Villain was busy raiding the base.” Sidekick quickly explained, a telltale sign that they’re growing more nervous.

“Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, right?” Hero asked, and Sidekick nodded. Before they could answer, Hero continued on. “Villain’s gotten in before, but it’s not like there’s jackshit he can find. You need a biochip to access confidential information, and unless that stupid fucking--”

The look on Sidekick’s face answered Hero’s question for them.

“You’re fucking with me. That fucking asshole! I knew we couldn't trust the biotech suit. He gave away your chip info, didn't he Sidekick?” Hero hoped the answer would be yes, because if it was anyone higher than Sidekick’s chip info...

Another sad pause, and Hero’s heart dropped with Sidekick’s words. “No...yours.”

Hero impulsively grabbed the pillow beside them and chucked it at the wall. At least pillows thrown with abnormal strength can’t break through walls. “Fuck,” Hero muttered under his breath. “Do you know what he did? What he saw?” Please say it was nothing important. Please, say the system locked him out or someone miraculously came in early for work and stopped him. Please, please, please.

“Also no,” Sidekick unfortunately answered. “The first thing he did was lock me out of the system,” Hero’s mouth opened to fire another range of rapid-fire questions Sidekick wouldn’t be able to answer, so Sidekick just continued their thought and anticipated some of Hero’s worries. “I did everything I could without being in the system anymore. I let staff know their information could potentially be compromised and advised them to lay low. Heat sigs from perimeter cams I had wired outside the system indicated that they left shortly after arrival, which is somewhat good news for us. I called my S/O and told her to go to the safe house and she called Caretaker too, but-”

For a shit situation, that’s about the best outcome they could hope for. “Oh,” Hero shrugged, shoulders relaxing as they snuggled back into the cheap pillow. “That’s fine! We’re fine! It’s all fine! We’ll just go to the safe-house, meet up with your S/O and Caretaker, and then go from there! Right?” Please say yes. Universe, please let this be simple.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Sidekick spoke slowly, making deliberate eye contact with Hero, who was lit up with false optimism. “Caretaker didn’t show up.”

Hero was immediately taken aback, their neutral look quickly shifting to an astonished glare. “What do you mean? There’s no way! Me and Caretaker talked about Code Green, they know what to do. You--”

A dull buzz from the phone next to them. Unknown number? Please be Caretaker, please be Caretaker. Hero reached for it, but Sidekick’s hand grabbed it before they could.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Hero immediately shot at Sidekick, grabbing the phone from Sidekick with ease even in a weakened state. Sidekick didn’t try to fight them, but looked on with pleading eyes.

“Hero, you don’t know who’s on the other end. Best to play it safe and let it ring, you don't want to jeopardize-”

“I’m not jeopardizing shit other than Caretaker’s safety if I don’t pick this up.” Hero flipped Sidekick the bird, then defiantly slammed the accept call button. Holding it up to their ear, they withheld speaking until they got anything from the other end.

A moment of silence. Hero waited, prayed to hear the sweet and familiar voice of Caretaker. Just for them to say “don’t worry, I’m alright,” so then this horrible feeling of dread and pressure can be lifted from their chest. Please, please, be Caretaker. I need this to be Caretaker.

“Hello, handsome,” The sing-song voice of Villain greeted from the other end. Hero's eyes immediately shot to Sidekick’s, which were just as wide as his. “Heard you had a bit too much fun at a party last night.”

Taking a level breath, Hero tried to calm themself. Who knows what advantage Villain has on them right now? Best not to tempt any unwise actions at the moment. “What do you want, Villain? You know you’re a real pain in the ass, right? Now I’ve got to come over there, kick your ass, and get a new security system.”

A long, long chuckle from the other end made Hero’s spine chill. Even calling is just...so unlike Villain. And the tone in their voice? It’s more proud and boastful than usual, as if wanting Hero to try and tease a little surprise out of them. “I don’t want anything, Hero, because I’ve already got all that I want right here.”

“Enlighten me.” Hero quipped back at them, rolling their eyes to Sidekick with their signature smirk. It can’t be that bad, since the biochip only unlocks access to baseline confidential information: more than likely, not much that Villain couldn’t guess themself, aside from...

The ID code linked to the biochip. It’s not synced to their Hero identity, but to their real identity. All he’d have to do is log into the system once, and....oh fuck.

Another sick, long laugh on the other end of the phone. “I was trying to toy with you, but I just can’t help myself Hero! Darling, why don’t you come over here and say hello?”

Hero could feel the pit in his stomach fill with every negative emotion, but mostly guilt. Guilt and rage. No. Please, no, not this. Not--

The sound of a struggle on the other side of the phone, Hero listening intently and hoping for the first time ever that he doesn’t hear Caretaker’s voice, until--

“Hero!” Caretaker cried out in-between shaky, raspy, exhausted breaths. “I’m not worth it, not worth the risk - please, please, just promise me you’ll-”

Even though Hero didn’t want to hear Caretaker’s voice, they were holding on to every last word, every last syllable and sound like it would be the last time they heard them. They could feel the pain that they heard in Caretaker’s voice, holding back a cry of their own as they heard Villain toss Caretaker away. More struggling, then the return of Villain.

Hero didn’t hold back. “You sick fuck!” Hero screamed into the phone. “They aren’t involved in this! Let’s settle this, you and me! If you want to save your life, you’d be smart to tell me where the fuck I can get them now, or else--”

“Not so fast!” Villain cut them off, “for the first time since we started this little feud that’s now turned into a full-blown war, the cards played out in my favor!” they joyously exclaimed. “And you, my dear Hero? Why, you’re just going to have to watch this game play out, because any harm that befalls me will be dealt back to Caretaker. Oh, how much fun me and your sweetheart are going to have! Speaking of which, I must get going - Caretaker and I have so much catching up to do!”

The dull, dead line didn’t last long, because Hero promptly threw it into the wall. Glass shattered, but so did Hero’s composure.

Whatever it takes, Hero told themself, I’ll get Caretaker back. Whatever it takes.

[[ tagging people who expressed interest in a continuation! @silverwhisperer1 @whatwasmyprevioususername

if you don’t want me to tag you in the next part, please let me know! ]]

#hero whump #villain whumper #hero/villain #caretaker whump #hostage #captivity whump #creepy whumper #I love this a lot actually #I'll keep it going if any of y'all want me to #villain whump #hero #villain

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tobesobri · 4 years

Photo

𝒯hank you for all the love on the first chapter, that was honestly the last thing I expected, and it really does mean the world to me that you guys like this story. I’m going to include the taglist at the end, but if you’d like to be added for future updates, go here and put in your tumblr URL. Okay, anyways, this chapter is very like,,, rocky and emotional so! Have fun reading :)

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

Chapter Two: Do It One More Time (3.8k)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

Sneaking Harry out had been the least of her worries. Him being on her mind constantly was a much bigger cause for concern. She had trouble sleeping at night, tossing and turning and even having to wash her entire bedspread to get rid of his scent. It had been no use, however. It was like her body got a taste of something very potent and wanted it now more than ever before.

And it didn’t take long for her to get back into her routine. To soil the pillowcases in her tears because the emptiness inside her chest had only grown tenfold after what had happened with Harry. Her muscles literally ached and her sobs almost sent her to the bathroom to hurl up an empty stomach full of knots.

Her brain had finally gotten a reprieve from its loneliness. She finally felt what it was like to have someone, even if it wasn’t real. Even if it was a mistake and even if it was fleeting. Harry had filled whatever missing parts were within her and it hurt like hell to go back to normal again.

But she wasn’t the only one. He couldn’t sleep anymore either. His house felt massive and the silence between all the walls seemed to ring just a little bit louder. He found himself buying an unnecessary amount of pillows and setting them all up on his bed just to surround himself with something. He’d been here before though. After a breakup, his least favorite part was going back to sleeping alone. He hated not having someone to hold onto. It took him weeks to get used to it last time, and to get used to the cold spots on the other side of the bed. It only took four and a half hours with Y/N to fuck him all up again.

And he really shouldn’t be doing this, but he was desperate.

“Hello?” Even her voice was a breath of fresh air for him.

“Hey, it’s uh… Harry.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you had my number.”

“Will gave it to me a while ago… for emergencies.”

Y/N took a long pause, unsure why Harry was calling her on a Thursday afternoon, completely at random. It had been almost an entire week since their… incident. Why was he calling her right now?

“So… is this an emergency?”

“Um… well, no. It isn’t.”

“So why are you calling then?”

“I was wondering um… you can say no but um… I was wondering if you wanted to… sleep with me again.” He cringed at his last few words and the way they felt like knives cutting his throat to get out. He had no better way to phrase what he wanted other than being blunt about it and admitting he wanted her up against him. He wanted more than just lifeless pillows to cuddle up to at night.

And something about Y/N had him losing his fucking mind the past week so asking her to sleep with him seemed low on his list of crazy.

“Sorry?”

“I mean… like we did last week. I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight, just to sleep?”

“Why?” She asked, unsure why Harry fucking Styles was asking her that. Sure, they were somewhat friendly and she had thoughts about asking him the same exact thing, but it was an odd request coming from him. She was sure if he needed a cuddle buddy that he could easily find anyone else.

But even the thought of him being like that with someone else gave her a horribly sick feeling in her stomach that she recognized immediately but could not for the life of her explain. She didn’t get jealous, ever.

He cleared his throat, “Um well… I have had a pretty hard time sleeping and then last Friday it was like… like the best sleep of my life. And this past week has been awful again. So I was just… we don’t have to if you don’t want to though. It’s fine. I probably shouldn’t have even called…”

“No.” She cut his spiraling off abruptly. “I mean… yes. I… can do that.”

He immediately let out a huge breath of air in relief but also couldn’t believe she had, yet again, agreed to another one of his stupid ideas. “I just want to let you know I’m not trying to like… get in your pants or anything. I genuinely just…” He stopped then, knowing a more believable story would be him wanting to get into her pants than what was actually going on with him.

“Just what?”

“I just need someone.” He admitted with his eyes closed tight as he laid back onto his couch. “And it’s not very easy asking people to just sleep with you.”

She let another moment of silence go by that just about tore him up. And right when he was about to ask if she was still there, he heard her voice again, as softly as ever.

“What time should I come over then?”

Harry’s house wasn’t easy to access. First, there was the entrance gate to just get into the neighborhood, which had an intimidatingly large security guard posted out front like an oversized bridge troll. Then she had to hand over her driver’s license and try to convince him she was there to see Harry, and that her name was supposed to be on his list of accepted guests. The whole thing wouldn’t seem so unbelievable to her if she wasn’t already trapped in a pit of nerves from being there in the first place.

By some miracle, however, the guard returned her ID along with a visitor’s pass and opened the gates for her.

Then, of course, there was finding his house, which turned out to be a whole other task and a half on its own. Every house was so far from the main road due to oversized front lawns that she couldn’t read anyone’s house number unless she practically trespassed. He’d given her very vague instructions so she mostly had to rely on Google Maps. Which somehow got her to the house at the end of Spruce Street with the enormous pine tall trees and rose bushes surrounding it just like Harry had described.

She pulled into the short gap of driveway just before the tall, wooden privacy gates that hid most of his house from view. After rolling down her driver’s side window, she inputted the four-digit code he’d given her onto the pinpad. Within a few seconds the gates opened, and after a moment to ogle at his insanely beautiful house, she swallowed the pit in her throat and carefully drove onto his property as if it was made out of glass. She really did not belong there, not in her beat up 2005 Toyota, and she couldn’t afford to break anything.

The moon was already prominent in the middle of the sky by the time she got to his front door and rang the bell. His house wasn’t at all what she expected. It was old-looking. Almost cottage-like with stone bricks and vines trickling down the architecture. She expected the most modern amenities known to man from him, but it turned out to be the polar opposite.

She stopped staring at his garden fortress of a house, with her jaw hung wide, when his door swung open. Because finally he was there, right in front of her, giving her proof that she didn’t accidentally show up at the wrong address, even though the code had worked and the house was as he described. Her anxiety was just a little extra prominent than normal.

“This is where you live?” She asked, before he even got the chance to invite her in.

He laughed, holding the door in one hand and gripping the frame with the other to keep his balance as he stood in the middle.

“Um,” he sighed, glancing up at the house, “yeah, but I’m trying to sell it soon. I bought it when I was young and impulsive.”

“Oh.” Was all she said, and he worried for a moment that he had completely lost her. That she was going to go back to never speaking a single word to him ever again. That he wasn’t anything like what she expected and it was a little too much for her to take in.

Just like most of his previous attempts at friendships, once they got even the tiniest glimpse into his life, they either bolted or stuck around long enough to get what they wanted from him.

Instead, she met his eyes again and smiled, “Can I come in or what?”

The inside of his house, however, had been recently modernized and she wondered if Harry had made all the design decisions himself. Like if he picked out the big geometric crystal chandelier in the foyer or the white marble countertops in the kitchen. She liked it, though, it was open with tall ceilings and unlike any home she’d ever stepped foot in. Even though it reminded her what vastly different worlds she and Harry came from, she knew his personality didn’t match up to his big fancy house.

When they settled into the kitchen, and when Harry began pouring two glasses of water for them, she set her things down on his island counter to give her shoulders a break from her heavy backpack. She knew she’d packed too much stuff, but if she was spending the night at Harry’s place, she needed her own familiar things to keep her company.

“I was thinking…” she started, watching as he kicked the refrigerator door shut once he’d put the filtered water pitcher back on the top shelf and handed her one of the glasses. “That maybe it’s a good idea to not tell Will… or... anyone about this.”

He thought it over for a moment and then nodded in agreement, “Yeah, okay.” Averting his eyes, his mind thought of a million different things at once while he sipped on his own glass of water until another tangible question popped into his head. “So if we’re not telling them, then where do they think you are right now?”

“At a coworker’s place.”

He nodded again and for the first time around Harry, she felt so incredibly nervous. He’d made her nervous before but not like this. She’d always just avoided him and it worked her anxieties out, but there was absolutely no chance of avoiding him now. Maybe she should have just said no, but that also seemed like an implausible choice.

“Is it alright if I like… get ready for bed? I just got off work.”

He let out a small giggle around the brim of his glass and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll show you my room.”

And his bedroom did not, by any means, disappoint. Just the square footage of it was impressive, but her eyes were particularly drawn to his bed, and not for any other reason than the way it faced massive ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked, as it seemed, the entirety of Hollywood; and she fell in love instantly. It was mesmerizing, and she could not fathom why on earth he planned on selling. Hell if he didn’t want the house anymore, she’d take it.

“Bathroom’s over there. Make yourself at home. I’m gonna set the alarm and turn off the lights. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Nodding, she waited for him to leave before she fully lost her mind about everything. Not only was she in the nicest house she’d ever laid foot in, but she was also about to crawl back into bed with him. His king sized, fluffy-looking bed she could imagine herself getting lost in.

She knew what they were doing was slightly out of the norm for people their own age. Most people didn’t sleep in the same bed as their friends unless they were doing something friends probably shouldn’t be doing. But the benefits of their budding friendship were a little more innocent than that to the point where even the thought of Will finding out where she was right now, while she slipped into her strawberry patterned pajama pants in Harry’s ensuite, made her lightheaded. She’d almost feel better if Will found out they were actually hooking up instead, because at least that wasn’t so… weird.

With the amount of time she spent getting herself ready, most of it being wasted on psyching herself up enough to go through with all of this, she’d become very familiar with his bathroom. He had two sinks along one wall, and massive mirrors that all faced a shower that could fit an entire army inside. The tiles were either black or white except for the blue pops of color here and there. The best part of it was the massive soaker tub in the back underneath a window that overlooked his garden. It was like he plucked a bathroom straight out of Good Housekeeping.

And of course she couldn’t let his things go unnoticed. She’d make herself a space at the empty sink nearest the door, the one that didn’t have his stuff neatly stacked around it. She eyed his small selection of colognes on a tray between the sinks while she washed her face, and couldn’t help her curiosity from checking out what brand of toothpaste he used when she started brushing her own teeth.

Other than the little touches of Harry scattered sparingly about, however, it was almost as if no one lived there at all. And she became very familiar with how cold it all was.

It wasn’t until she turned the sink off after splashing her face, again, with ice cold water, that she heard the soft hum of a guitar from just outside the bathroom door. She wasn’t sure if he was playing, or if he had turned music on. She wasn’t even sure if Harry Styles knew how to play the guitar. She couldn’t ever remember him playing any instruments whenever he came over to work with Will, but maybe she was just tragically unobservant.

And that seemed to be the case once she finished up and went back out to find him perched on what appeared to be his side of the bed with his guitar on his lap and a leather bound notebook open in front of him.

Though before she could make out a single melody, he immediately stopped playing the second she re-entered the room.

“Sorry, you can keep… doing what you’re doing.”

He let out an exasperated laugh while she crept towards the bed on the opposite side and made note of the way he quickly hid his journal from her and stashed it into a drawer at his bedside table. Maybe she was overanalyzing things, but it seemed like whatever he was writing down was for his eyes only, and she respected that.

“I was trying to write a song… hasn’t really been working out for me recently.” He leaned away from her to put his guitar down on the floor, setting it upright against the table, and she hated the way her eyes went straight to the small sliver of skin under his shirt that was exposed when he did so.

“Writer’s block?” She asked, slowly making her way up under the covers next to him, still feeling like she didn’t belong even though this had all been Harry’s idea to begin with. He needed someone and so did she, even if he didn’t fully know to what extent. But it felt like somehow she had tricked him into thinking the someone he needed was her.

“Sucks,” he mumbled to himself mostly, still very obviously in his own little work bubble.

“I usually just try to stop doing whatever I’m struggling with, and do something else, something I wouldn’t normally do.”

“You mean with your art stuff?” He asked and she wasn’t sure how he knew about her hobby, if Will had brought it up before, but it made her heart flutter nonetheless, that he remembered that small detail about her.

“Yeah.” She finally looked over at him, only to find him already staring at her and it weirdly made her less anxious about her current position. In his bed. In her roommate’s best friend’s bed. “If you’re stuck, you should leave it alone and write something completely out of your comfort zone. Then when you go back to where the problem was, you have a new set of eyes on it.”

He was quiet, first just listening to her speak, and then really letting her advice sink in because it wasn’t something he’d ever thought about doing, but he made mental plans to give it a try.

“I’m sorry if this is really weird, Y/N,” he began, getting her attention when he changed the subject. “I know it’s hard to believe but I’m actually horrendously alone and I guess when we slept together I didn’t feel so much that way anymore.”

“I get it, Harry.” She sighed, never wanting to fully open up to him, but feeling like it was now or never to get him to stop making it more weird by apologizing. “Makes you feel like… empty.”

“Exactly,” Harry sighed and she glanced at him when he agreed so enthusiastically. “I haven’t been that close to someone in… months,” he rolled his eyes down to meet hers again, “and I guess I just didn’t want it to be like that again.”

The look on her face alone made it easy to tell everything he said resonated with her, like he was saying exactly what she was thinking too. It broke his heart to know that she, in any way, felt like he did, but it also made him glad someone finally understood what he was going through, even if in just the slightest.

“I understand, Harry. I guess I just don’t understand why you’re alone. Can’t you have anyone you want?”

He scrunched up his face, “It’s not that easy.” He huffed, “People aren’t all that interested in me as they are getting loads of likes on Instagram and having lots of money. I mean… I haven’t had a single relationship that didn’t end the same.”

“Still,” she mumbled begrudgingly. He was still Harry Styles. People still wanted him and, even if it hadn’t turned out so well, he’d still been not alone at some point in his life, unlike her.

He raised his eyebrows, a little irritated at this point. “Okay then, why are you alone? Can’t imagine it’s that hard for you.”

She rolled her eyes away from him and hung her head to disguise the embarrassment on her face. There were two big reasons why she was alone, and she was not about to admit them to Harry at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night.

“So what is it then?” He talked for her when he grew irritated with her silence and her inability to see his perspective on things, “Your lack of ability to talk to people? Because you have these massive walls to keep literally everyone out, including me, for the past however many months we’ve known each other?”

She shook her head and sunk deeper and deeper inside herself. This was all a mistake. It had all gone wrong because she opened her mouth and said something insensitive.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Harry.” She looked at him again finally, holding back the stupid tears trying to well up just from the mere thought of being even moderately yelled at, and especially by Harry who she’d never imagined being angry a day in his life. “But if we’re just going to sit here judge each other, I think I should go.”

“No.” He immediately reached across the king-sized space between them to grab her arm before she even considered leaving his bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell like that.” They stared at each other silently for a moment before he continued, “You don’t want to talk about it and that’s fine.”

She stared at him for a moment, and then at his hand around her arm and just how good it felt to be touched. Just to have human contact, even just something as simple as that. And then she felt just as desperate as she had when she agreed to all of this in the first place.

“Can we just go to sleep? I’m tired.”

It started out like it had before. A gap of space between them after Harry had turned out the lamp beside him. After he spent an ungodly amount of time staring out his window and listening to her breathing, and she spent the same amount of time overthinking, they both realized something wasn’t working.

“Harry?” She whispered like she was throwing out a line into a vast ocean.

“Hmm?”

“You were right… about why I’m alone. But… it’s also that no one’s ever really shown any interest in me because, um... ” she struggled, trying her damndest not to cry in front of Harry. “I’m... ugly, you know… so that’s, um...” Her voice was just a whisper she could barely even make out, but it was still the first time she’d said that to anyone before. Sure, she wasn’t facing Harry when she said it and they were in complete darkness, but it was still hard, hard enough to make her hands shake and the tears fall.

He knew it too, the way her voice wavered like he’d never heard before. He twisted his head over his shoulder to look at her, eyebrows furrowed even deeper when he saw the shadow of her hand move across her face to wipe the tears away.

And here she was; in Harry’s bed where she thought her problems would be temporarily solved, and yet she was still crying.

“So that’s why… I feel like I don’t let people in because I don’t want anyone to have to be stuck with me.” She finished and he flipped himself onto his back, still staring at her head like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, that she even thought that way about herself. He was sitting there in shock because, well… he had been wrong. He didn’t understand her at all.

Without a single clue how to respond without sounding like a disingenuous asshole, he went another route rather than opening his mouth to give her unsolicited advice.

“Come ’ere.” He whispered, helping her until she was in his arms again just like before. He cradled the back of her head with one hand as she hid her face on his chest and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. Slowly, she warmed up to him and tucked her own arm around his side as they fit themselves together like puzzle pieces all over again. Except this time, they were both consciously aware of it.

They stayed like that for a while until Harry listened to her breathing even out, and he could hardly keep his eyes open any longer. He still wanted to say a million different things, but knew it might only make it worse because his head wasn’t clear enough to say the right things. So, he just held on tight and waited for morning.

taglist: @afterstylesmadeit @cxnyon-moon @and-im-not-okay-with-it @chrryblsms @whydontharry @harryinsweatersandbandanas @idkthisisjustforfanfic @teddysoldbird @shawnsblue @thurhomish @theasstour @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @staceystoleyourheart @granolagrannie @defineharry @iambabyharry @1142590m @ashtondene @smokeinherperfume @cherryyharryy

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #onlyhuman

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soheila-1996 · 4 years

Text

Wake up, Rookie- Part one

Any feedback is always super appreciated! :)

Tags: @dulceghernandez @rookie-ramsey @te-fanz1 @aylamwrites @ethansmommyissues @schnitzelbutterfingers

Paring: Ethan x MC

Warnings: Coma/ car accident.

Word count: 1,640.

(Ethan’s POV)

I’m still sitting in the blue, plastic uncomfortable chair beside Casey’s bedside- like I’ve been doing all night long since I got the call.

My body has started to ache from staying in the same position but I’ve refused to move. I can’t leave her; I just can't.

The clock ticking, the heart monitor beeping, the ventilator forcing air into her battered and broken body, the nurses and doctors shuffling about are the only sounds I’ve heard all night. These are sounds that I hear every day, they represent my work but now it feels hell.

I’ve never felt pain like this before. Not when I lost Dolores or thought I was going to lose Naveen...this pain is something else. It physically hurts and It’s all my fault. I shifted in my seat and rub but hands over my tired and still red-rimmed, puffy eyes.

I turned my gaze to look up at the clock hung up on the wall beside me and realise that I had only been sleeping for less than an hour. I can’t sleep anyway; I don’t want to take my eyes off her.

I lean forward and take one of Casey’s hands into the both of mine and place a gentle kiss onto her knuckles.

I cleared my throat before speaking, “I now understand why people get so frustrated when we tell them to talk to their loved ones while they’re like this.” His eyes ran over her bruised and scratched up face. “I now understand how hard it is. To talk to you and act as if everything is okay. That word seems so wrong right now; nothing is okay, Case.” I swallowed thickly and wiped at my teary eyes. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. If I didn’t piss you off so much you wouldn’t have left, you wouldn’t have been driving with tears clouding your vision that I caused.”

-12 hours earlier-

(Casey POV)

I can’t even remember why this argument started. They've just been getting more and more frequent lately. Ethan and I recently moved in with one another; things were going great and now...it’s not. Maybe it’s down to living together and working together; maybe it because now it feels like neither of us have space to breathe.

We have been an item for a long time now. It’ll be two years next month. We’ve taken it slow, we didn’t want to rush into anything, we didn’t want for our relationship to move too fast. Ever since we moved in together it’s just gone off the rails. At the start it was good, Ethan means everything to me, I love him more than anything but...we just seem to keep clashing with each other. Maybe moving into was just the wrong thing to do or at least that is how it feels right now. It’s like one enormous mistake but that’s not how this should feel. Not how it did feel in the beginning.

Fighting with Ethan is draining, we both get so wrapped up in whatever we’re squabbling about that we forget that we love each other; that we’re and together we can do anything...apparently that doesn’t include our relationship lately.

He’s talking, I can see his mouth moving but I’m drowning it out. I don’t care. I know he wants me to clap back at whatever childish, aggravating remark he’s making right but I don't have the energy to. I've had a long ass day, I just wanted to hang out with my boyfriend. I just wanted to cuddle up on the couch, order a pizza, watch a movie and fall asleep together like we used to do before all of this.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I whispered but somehow my boyfriend heard anyway. Ethan stopped talking as a look of confusion and then an unrecognisable expression spread across his face.

“What did you just say?” Ethan asked me calmly.

“I can’t keep doing this,” I responded. My voice breaks as I speak. It’s just a mess; maybe a break will help, maybe having some time away from each other could help us repair the relationship that we’ve both broken. “I can’t do this anymore,” I say again; more composed than before.

“Case-”

“No,” I interrupt, “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be! We’re not meant to constantly be at each other’s throats, Ethan! I love you but I can’t keep fighting with you. I think we should go on a break. We should have some time alone before we ruin this relationship for good.”

I don’t say anything else or give Ethan a chance to say anything as I grab my car keys and head out- I need space.

I yank my car door open and then slam it shut. After putting the keys into the ignition I roughly backed the car out of the driveway onto the road. I don’t have a destination in mind. Taking a long drive seems like a good idea to help clear my mind; figure out what I’m doing and then come up with a solution on how to fix this.

It feels like I’ve just made an unthought out and hasty decision. Is there a way to fix this? Can I fix this?

The more I think over what happened; what’s been happening the more my eyes begin to well. Tears are falling down my already tear stained cheeks from my irritated, red eyes. My phone is sitting on the passenger seat beside me. It’s gone off a couple times with calls and texts from Ethan asking that I come home and talk things out no doubt. My vision is clouded by the tears that only make it harder to maneuver the car around the roads twists and turns.

I briefly turn my eyes away from the road and wiped them with my sleeve. When I turn them back onto the road I'm now coming up to an intersection. The light is green so I continue on my way, my eyes once again being disrupted by the tears welling in them. Just as I’m approaching the middle of the intersection I see a pair of headlights in my peripheral vision as another car recklessly ploughs into the intersection. My heart pounds in my chest as I slam my foot down onto the break but like I had already thought the car doesn’t stop in time before I reach the middle and so the reckless driver crashes into my car. I hear the crunch of metal as the car collides with mine before my entire world goes black.

(Ethan’s POV)

It’s been a couple hours since Casey stormed out of the house. I’ve tried to call her a couple of times, I know she doesn’t want to talk but I just need to know she’s okay. I’m laying on the couch trying to get some sleep but I can’t seem to drift off. I’m worried about her, every attempted call went straight to voicemail. I have a horrible gut feeling that something is wrong and I can’t shake it. I’ve got work in the morning but I can’t sleep until I at least know she’s alright.

I’m just starting to drift off when my phone ringing pulls me out of my near slumber. I sit up and rub my tired eyes and reach for my phone that’s sitting on the coffee table.

A feeling of pure dread washes over me when I see the caller ID- Harper Emery. Why the hell is she calling at this time of night? It makes no sense to me. We’re friends, we talk occasionally but she never calls me in the middle of the night. The feeling that something is wrong only intensifies as I answer the call.

“Harper?”

“Hello Ethan,” she responds. I sit myself up straight; I know her well by now, I can tell by her tone of voice that something is amiss.

“What’s going on?” I ask, the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach only growing.

Harper took in a deep breath on the other end, “You need to come to the hospital. Casey was brought in an hour ago...It’s not looking good Ethan...”

****

It’s hard not to think over last night. I’ve never felt anything like that when I got the call from Harper. I’ve never been that terrified.

Last night was stupid, the argument that I don’t even remember what it was about in the first place was stupid. Letting her go was a moronic move on my part; If I had tried to get her to stay then we wouldn’t be in this situation we’re now in. Letting her walk out that door will always be something I was forever regret, especially if she doesn’t recover from this.

Casey’s hand is still clamped in my own. My eyes have started to well up again. I see people like this sometimes daily but they’re people that I don’t know..this is so different. It’s heartbreaking to see the woman that I completely adore in this state. I know that every abrasion and bruise that is covering her beautiful face will heal, that every broken bone will knit back together but that doesn’t mean anything to me right now. I don’t care. All I want is Casey to be okay now.

Harper is optimistic, that's something I guess. She’s hardly ever wrong, however, that doesn’t really help me right now.

I clear my throat and wipe at my teary eyes, “I love you.” My voice wavers, “I know that I don’t tell you that enough but I do. I really love you and I can’t-” My heart starts pounding in my chest; I’m beginning to panic just thinking about losing her. I don’t think I could survive losing her. “You’re going to wake up and I’ll be here when you do.” I give her hand a little squeeze, “Wake up, Rookie.”

#open heart #soheila-1996 writes #dr ethan ramsey #open heart 2 #choices open heart #choices open heart 2 #open heart secon #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #ethan open heart #ethan ramsey #dr ethan jonah ramsey #ethan x mc #dr ethan ramsey x mc #tw: coma #tw: car accident

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dragonleesupporter · 5 years

Note

8 or 5 with lee!virgil (because of course id suggest that) (btw when you originally posted that list i thought you were asking US to write that stuff so i started writing a fic with one of them but realized it was like a carbon copy of another fic i wrote so i just have like a 70% tickle fic with "tickle voodoo doll" in)

Well, you can still write some fics based off the prompts if you like. I’ve seen some prompt lists go like that, I think. This is my first prompt list, so I really don’t know what I’m doing, but at least it’s fun! Last one for a while, let’s go!

...

Patton had been very patient, but now he was starting to grow frustrated. He thought he had tickled Virgil everywhere he could, but whenever his attacks ended, Virgil would say those darn three words.

“Missed a spot.”

It was driving the poor fatherly figment crazy. What spot could he be missing? He was the master of tickling!

“Roman...?” The prince heard a slow knock at his door.

“Yes, Padre? Is everything okay?” Roman opened the door to see a sad, defeated-looking Patton staring at his feet.

“Virgil’s still saying I’m missing a spot whenever I tickle him... Do you think there’s maybe... a spell in your little pink section to... help me see ALL of his little tickly spots?” Patton looked everywhere but the princes eyes. He hated asking for help.

“Isn’t that cheating?” Roman smiled softly and patted the light blue side on his shoulder.

“I’ve tried so many times to find it, but it’s literally impossible!” The prince awed as Patton pouted angrily like a toddler without their toy.

“Okay, okay, okay... As long as it gets that horrible look off your face.” Roman waved his hand as if the wipe away his own doubt, but was glad to find Patton’s eyes had brightened at his acceptance to help.

“Let’s see, I think I might know a spell...” The red side started flipping through the pages.

...

Virgil woke up relaxed just to have his peace disrupted by an odd, pink glowing light in his sheets. Surprised and somewhat panicked, he threw them off the bed to realize the glow wasn’t coming from the blankets, it was coming from HIM.

The emo examined himself;

His armpits and stomach were glowing brightly, as well as the tips of his ears, his feet and his neck. A more subtle glowing at his sides, ribs, knees, and hands. He curiously lifted his shirt up and saw a supernova of light coming from his belly button.

Uh-oh.

Patton couldn’t find out, or he’d die of laughter.

Patton had gotten Virgil on his sides, ribs, pits, feet, knees, hands, ears, neck, and belly, but had never gotten his belly button.

You see, Patton thought all belly buttons weren’t ticklish after his attempts at attacking both Roman and Logan had failed in that respect. Logan was the one who initially told him that such places just weren’t ticklish. But a little secret was that Virgil, Deceit, and Remus all had ridiculously sensitive giggle buttons, that so far, hadn’t been discovered by the fatherly side just because he didn’t think of it as a tickle spot!

Oh, Virgil was now starting to regret his taunting of the light blue trait. Always saying ‘Missed a spot’ and chuckling at his unofficial dad’s whine. He knew Patton would never think to tickle him there. He probably should’ve kept his mouth shut... but maybe... this is kinda what he wanted all along?

KNOCK KNOCK

SHIT.

“Hey kiddo! Breakfast is ready! Scrambled egg and and toast!” Patton’s cheery voice called from the other side of the door.

“C-coming!” Virgil silently cursed himself for the break in his voice before trying to figure out just how he was going to present himself to the others.

He eventually thought “screw it.” and dressed himself accordingly to his secret desires. Even if he knew he was going to be wrecked, it was going to be worth all the shocked expressions.

“Ah, Virgil. There you-” Logan choked on his words, fork dropping from his hand as his brain tried to process what he was seeing, and Roman nearly spit out his orange juice in surprise, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Patton turned around and almost dropped the plates in his hands as his jaw fell to the floor.

Virgil was dressed in a VERY thin crop top (almost see-through!) and shorts, exposing all of his glowing, especially the absolute sun in the middle of his belly

He looked around at the others expressions and couldn’t help but throw his head back, laughing at their shock. Yep, he had decided. It was well worth it.

“S-so U-um, n-nice s-sexy- I MEAN ATTRACTIVE I- YOU- I-I-I-I-” Roman sputtered like a broken CD as his face turned redder than his sash, and Logan hid his face in his hands, hoping his flustered cheeks would die down.

Patton stared at Virgil with wide, windows-error eyes. He was laughing at them. LAUGHING. Those sweet giggles... that blazing belly button... it was there the whole time... Waiting for him... That laugh... that tummy... The fatherly trait’s eyes twitched and flinched madly before his pupils narrowed to specs.

Ler Mood Activated

“AH!” Virgil’s laughter was cut off as he was full-on CHARGED DOWN by the moral side like a bull cape, and immediately went to guard his giggle button.

“You can’t hide from me, anymore.~”

Oh, Virgil knew he was going to get it, now. Even if he was guarding, whenever he heard Patton’s ler voice go that low... Let’s just say Virgil was now regretting EVERYTHING. His clothes, his treatment of the light blue dad, just everything...

Patton was already scratching at his ears, making him squeal as his arms shook with the urge to reach up and block his head. Now with the glow spell activated, Patton could see every inch of ticklish skin and navigated it like a map as his smile grew wider and wider.

As he was reaching around his head, Patton saw a rather bright spot of glowing on his unofficial son’s back.

BINGO.

He reached scribbled his fingers against the spot as Virgil reeled back, the sudden upward twitch causing his hands to slip from the middle of his belly.

CHECK. MATE.

Virgil threw his head back and screamed as Patton’s two index fingers wiggled their way into his giggle button. Up and down, side to side, EVERY little movement was unbearable to the emo.

“GEHEHEHEHEHEHEHET AHAHAHAHOHOHOHOHOUHUHUT OHOHOHOF THEHEHEHEHHEHEHERE!! PFFTHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! PAHAHAHAT!” Virgil was immediately hysterical and found himself gasping for air only seconds into the torture.

He thrashed wildly as his legs kicked hard enough to break rock and his arms slapped and grabbed at anything around him to help escape from the maddening sensation. He knew he was going to die of laughter, but jeez, it felt like he was actually going to pass out!

And he nearly did.

“K-kiddo? Are you okay? I-I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have been so rough!” Virgil opened his eyes and as his sight focused, a hand rubbing his belly comfortingly, he saw Patton, worriedly checking him over.

“I_ihihihi’m fihihihine Pahahahat...” The purple side giggled through his words.

“Hey, Virgil. I have a secret.~” Roman chirped up from behind the moral side.

“Patton’s belly button is just as ticklish!”

“Wait. How can that be? I don’t even know that! I’ve never been tickled there!” Patton turned around and faced Roman, eyebrows waving with confusion.

“How long do you think I’ve had that dark spell book for?” Roman winked. “There’s a reason why I know all your spots by heart.”

Patton’s relief was brought to an end as he was pinned against the floor, Virgil’s face twisted into a cocky smirk.

“Cya later Padre!~”

“Goodnight, Patton.” The two other sides left, calling to the doomed moral side as they went.

“W-WAIT! D-dohohon’t leehehehheave MEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!”

Patton’s cackles lit up the night as Virgil sought his revenge to the fullest.

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wherearemyglassesbro · 5 years

Note

What about a face fam where fran and/or art already have kids when they meet?

ALSJKDLKAN imagine

Francis has Alfred and Matthew from his past, failed relationship where the woman he was worth had the kids and then left them with him. The kids never knew their mom and Fran doesn’t like to talk about her at all. They’re both five

Arthur has Michelle or ‘Chelly’ because a dear friend passed and he was her godfather. She’s only two and she’s such a handful sometimes “Dad! Peppa pig!” “Chelly, love, daddy doesn’t really want to watch peppa right now, can we watch something else-“ “DAD!!! PEPPA!!! >:(“ “...fine”

They’re both young dads sadly, Arthur’s 21 and Fran is 24 which isn’t that young but his kids were...not planned and Art never imagined that he’d be a dad so young

They meet by taking their kids to the same park and Arthur’s the first to approach Francis cause he looks so miserable one day, it’s cause he worked such a long shift the night before and even though he loves his kids they’re driving him insane so he takes them to the park to run their energy off. So he’s sitting there thinking about horrible his day’s been and he’s so touched that Arthur comes over to chat. Michelle’s in the sand pit right where he can see her and they two just chat about life and talk about their jobs

After that they find themselves meeting at the park every Saturday...And then the meet multiple times a week...And then next thing they know, Arthur’s having dinner at Francis’ twice a week.

The boys don’t really mind it cause they like seeing their papa so happy! They don’t know he’s in love yet but they know that Francis doesn’t have many friends as of late cause of his work schedule

And Michelle, while at home with Arthur, will throw little fits “Dad! I wanna go to Mattie’s house!” “We can’t love, we weren’t invited” “I wanna go!” “Chelly-“ And then the crying starts...ugh

When they actually start dating they start out super slow in the beginning, wanting their kids to get used to the idea of being around eachother more and more but tbh, they’re moved in together within a few months.

Francis’ apartment was there bigger one between the two of them so they all got together and moved Arthur’s stuff in but ended up selling most of it because it was baby stuff and super old couches and china plates that neither of them had any desire to keep

Michelle was the first to call Francis ‘papa’, she started calling him that maybe two weeks into living with them cause al and Matt called him that! And then Michelle mimicked them and earned a bunch of kisses from Francis “Oh, mon Chou, that’s so sweet!”

Alfred and Matthew took a lot longer to start calling Arthur their dad. He was ‘Papa’s boyfriend’ and ‘Artie’ for awhile. Matt called him dad before Alfred did though but Arthur was touched either way

They settled into a routine rather quick. Every day they’d get the kids up and have breakfast together. Francis took the boys to school and Arthur stayed home with Michelle until her daycare opened. Then he’d go to work. Then the kids would be picked up and everyone would come home and have dinner, watch cartoons before bed and then get tucked in and kissed by their dads “Goodnight Matthieu, Goodnight Alfred-“ “NIGHT PAPA!” “Goodnight Michelle!”

Michelle brags about Francis at her daycare all the time. She tells the ladies all about how her papa cooks and how he braids her hair, the other teachers and moms always get a kick out of it. Arthur is JEALOUS

Alfred plays soccer/football with Arthur though and he loves it! And Matthew learns to knit and he isn’t that great at it but it’s something that he can do with Arthur

When the kids fight with their dads ids always the worst “You’re not my dad! You can’t tell me what to do!” Alfred said once, throwing his school bag on the floor “Papa’s my dad! Not you!” And...ow...That hurt Arthur a LOT! But Michelle did the same thing to Francis once when he refused to give her a cookie “I like dad more! I want dad, not you!” It hurts them both cause...They’re trying...so hard :(

One day Arthur sends the kids to grandma Kirkland’s and takes Francis out on a fancy date that’s he’d been saving up for since they met. And in the middle of that high end restaurant, he proposes and neither of them have ever been happier

And when they tell the kids the next day, they all whoop and cheer and Michelle goes on and on about being the flower girl and Alfred can’t stop talking about the wedding cake oh lord

They all love eachother so much! Their situations would make it hard to be together at first but love always wins in the end! And they’re young but act super old and they’ll slow dance in the kitchen together and give eachother warm, loving hugs and curl up under a bunch of blankets. And then the kids will come jump on them “Dad! Papa! It’s time for cartoons! We’re gonna miss them if ya don’t get up!” And honestly? They don’t think their lives could be any more perfect cause they love their family :’)

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dementedgnomicwizard · 5 years

Text

i preplanned those tunnel tweets + made a list of specifically what pictures i wanted and finished making the worms earlier this morning so like i wasnt Winging It at all but it sure felt like it! bc weve only ever gone to the tunnels as a group before, but today the only time i could go was in the 25 minutes before my evening class and no one else was free then so i was like whatever ill just go get my pictures and then to class and it’s fine. so i put my little sandwich baggie full of worms in my pocket and went over to the machinery building, which is where the tunnel entrance is, but the entrance is in the basement and there’s two ways to get into the basement both of which are almost always locked so i was like well i’ll just check and see if either of them are open. and it turned out the freight elevator was allowing trips to the basement so i got in and went down

the freight elevator spits you out in like this really cluttered and fucked-up looking storage basement basically which is where the tunnel entrance is and while the tunnel is dark the basement itself is usually lit by these shitty fluorescents HOWEVER! today when the elevator doors opened it was absolutely completely dark in the entire enormous basement. but at that point i was like i made it over here, i have my worms, i have my photo list, i have time before class, and what are the odds the elevator will be working again, ill just use my flashlight who cares. so i turned my flashlight on and started picking my way through to the tunnel entrance, except i stopped and made a detour to take pics in that little office room because i thought it would sorta look like the room where they found gertrude’s body and i could make a fun joke about it ANYWAY as i’m coming out of the office room i notice that the stairway door directly across from me is open, which is weird because they’re Never open because they don’t want us to go down there. so i was like, shit, maintenance and/or security are down here and my only way out is the super obvious elevator so ill just wait them out so i like turned my flashlight off and crouched behind a bunch of shit

anyway i just sort of huddled in the dark for a while and soon enough it became clear that no one was actually coming so i took advantage of my proximity to the ground to scatter some worms and take that first worm pic where im pointing. and then i was like okay, might as well get the tunnel bit over with. so the area of the basement where the mouth of the tunnel is is closed off with this big metal fence and there’s like a wire-mesh on the front with a huge padlock only years and years of horrible college students have managed to sort of beat the bottom half of the gate a few inches outwards + compromise its integrity enough that its easy to pull far enough open for someone else to slip through. however my problems today were 1) like i said ive only ever gone with a group before, meaning i’d always had someone to hold the gate open for me, and i had never attempted to get through without assistance before let alone back out and 2) the gate is RIGHT next to the stairs that i mentioned earlier were open when they usually never are. so i stood there for a minute like... okay, say i DO try to get through myself, and i get stuck. OR, say that happens and THEN whoever was working down here comes back and im stuck so i get caught and in trouble.

and then i was like actually fuck it we ball so i like. sort of just got down fully on the ground (which was gross btw do not recommend) and like rolled and twisted and pushed myself around until i wiggled through. that was the moment when i sort of started to accept just how much tunnel dirt i was gonna be covered in by the end but it was so far past too late to back out so i headed into the tunnel entrance. it gets TRULY dark like really really soon after you walk in also like i thought the basement outside was dark because the lights were off but the tunnels are like.... DARK. anyway i stopped halfway down the entry tunnel to try and set up the like “worm door outline” thing from after MAG39 and like initially i had thought that i could figure out an okay way to at least temporarily get them on the wall bc theyre made of latex and super light but it was quickly apparent that that would not be the case so i found a patch of the floor that looked smooth enough to be a wall and set it up on there instead. so i’m like. squatting on the floor in this very dark and kind of gross tunnel, and i have my phone laying on the ground next to me flashlight-side-up so i can see as well as use both hands to dig cold little latex worms out of a sandwich baggie and arrange them in a pattern on the ground and the flashlight was lighting up the tunnel in the most fucked up way and it was dead silent and the WHOLE time i was like, and this is the moment when like a maintenance worker turns the corner and finds me and is just like, hello??? theres some clown playing with worms in the tunnel????

anyway that did not happen and instead i got my little doorway set up and then it was time to take the first pic (of the worm door by itself without me in it) which was when i realized that when i open my camera app my phone forcibly turns the flashlight off so every time i wanted to take a picture in the tunnels i was gonna have to turn my light off and just like chill alone in the pitch dark in a tiny tunnel for however long it took me to take each photo and i was like hm okay wig i guess so i took the door pic and then it took me like four tries to get myself positioned right for the cringe ass fail worms one because, surprisingly, it is difficult to position yourself directly in the center of an archway of worms that you cannot see, and while i was doing all those failed tries i got to spend a lot of time laying splayed out on my back in the dark on the tunnel floor anyway i got it finally so i just sort of kicked the worms to the sides and kept going in further. to get to the pit you have to turn left at the first fork and then take a right and then theres this weird like step? thing? in the middle of the tunnel and if youre me you have to do a super awkward crabwalk limbo step thing to get over it because the pipes on the ceiling above it are hot and the step comes up to like 6 inches below the pipe but also i dont like to touch the top of the step because its gross. so its always a production. this time i think they had worked on that pipe recently or something because it was leaking so the step was wet and the pipe dripped hot water onto my neck while i was crawling under it LMAO

anyway from there its a straight shot and it opens out into this like larger room near the entrance to the engine room and the pit is right at the edge of where the dirt of the tunnel turns into the concrete of the room floor. and theyve like half-covered the top of it in wooden planks but theyre not held down so when you have to step on them just for a second to get out of the tunnel its so nervewracking. theres overhead lights in that room though so that was nice idk if i couldve managed the flashlight-camera-transition in the dark AND one-handed. so i took my from-above tunnel pic and then i was like (checks my photos list) “well...... i did say id get two from inside the pit.” i had actually never been in the pit before because the other two times i’ve gone to the tunnels i’ve been with other people and they would barely even let me get near it let alone get on the ladder. so i was like well i guess there is a first time for everything so i put my phone in my back pocket and ducked under the little yellow chain they have up and started going down the ladder and i got like 8? maybe 10? feet down before i thought to look down again and let me just say..... all the times we had looked into that pit from above we had never guessed anywhere CLOSE to how deep it actually was. thats all. so i was like.... um i was expecting to be able to like, stand on solid ground while i take this pit selfie, but that was clearly not going to be an option, but also i had committed this far already to getting these pics from the pit so i was like ugh i guess and hooked my one arm over the ladder so i could get my phone out w the other hand and take the pics from in there. and then i climbed back out. the ladder rungs made my hands SO gross and dirty with rust i was like eugh eugh.

but after that the only picture left to take was the one w my pen and the only way for me to go was back out towards the entrance so i was like its fine im almost done. so i went back out until i got to the tunnel after the first fork and i was like cool here’s a good a place as any so i got my pen ready + went to get my camera out, and literally RIGHT as the flashlight went out and the camera app opened i was like SO sure i saw something move vaguely in the darkness to my right like REALLY close to me shoulder height so i was like uhhh no and took a flash photo more out of reflex than anything and i didnt see anything but also the flash lit up for like, one second and then it was dark again so i like switched back to the flashlight really quick and obviously it was just a normal tunnel and i was the only one there so i opened the camera app again to try to take the pic again and literally just like the first time right as the flashlight turned off i was soooo sure something moved right next to me like so close but i was like “nell. youre being insane.” so i didnt do anything and i just took like three more possible variations on the pic i wanted and then i turned my flashlight back on and once again obviously nothing was amiss so i was like epic win and went back out the tunnel entrance. and then i was like............. oh god i have to do the gate squirm again. but there was no other way so i just did it really fast before i could really get worked up about it lol and then i went back over to the freight elevator only when i pressed the button it would light up and then immediately go dark when i unpressed it and i was like oh fuck because 90% of the time when you get in on the ground floor this elevator literally refuses to take you to the basement and i was like oh no it re-locked while i was down here and now i can’t get up this way so im just like in this basement for the foreseeable future but then of course as i was going down that tangent the elevator doors opened and i stepped into the fluorescent light and looked down and was like wow i am just so thoroughly, completely, orangely covered in dirt. but i made it home with like 5 minutes to wash up a bit before my evening class so that was a win! i did learn however that i should never take my evening dose of adderall directly after a bit of minor breaking&entering while the adrenaline is still there because when i got to class i almost jackhammered a hole through the floor with my shakyleg

#tired and still probably quite dirty if im being honest but Satisfied with the Outcome #also i had a lot of fun during + especially afterwards when i got to actually use the pics i took

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indomitablemegnolia · 4 years

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I have been dragging this coffin around, like Django, for a while now, and for some reason American politics has to just keep poking at a seeping infected wound; as a psychologist I know that the best way to deal with certain emotions and PTSD is to talk it out, if you can talk past the ragged breaths. Now I am not much of a talker but I do write; I was thinking that maybe letting this out into the world might help someone or perhaps not fatally wound them by reading. I just know I have been keeping all of this way too close for way too long. I am going to try to do this so those who don’t want to know can avoid. I do add a bit of fantasy into it as my own default coping mechanism; so it is not just a barrage of horror. There are triggers... physical pain, blood, rape, and political triggers...this is me screaming into the void. If anyone reads this, I would hope that I could inspire a kind word.

Good god, what fresh hell is this? I swear that sometimes I have to just kick this evil darkness, beat it back, strike out with every weapon I have until it bleeds sunlight; oh, and when that first drop of sun falls I have to keep fighting until I am bathed in that healing glow, smearing it over my face, rubbing it in to my soul; reveling in the warmth of the end of a battle well fought and valiantly one worth the effort. This is always a rough two weeks for me every year for well 19 years now… the tenth falls and it seems some note really minor catastrophe befalls me; there has not been a skip year, a stand out or a delayed year; I will not whine about the past, but for the past three years it has been a political horror show on top of the menial financial, health, or personal failing; I focus on the possible and look up, which usually lands me down a manhole but I can’t change my stripes. In these last three years the shit-show of a congress (and congress is both houses equally guilty) put on these shows of caring and disdain, evil in its fake almost after thought of un-electability. Kavanaugh sent me into a bottomless tailspin; something about a Judge rapist being put on the highest court in the land on the anniversary of my own…attack; not that I think it sits any better in the pit of my stomach any other time of the year, but now… again… and I just can’t breathe, they had made my life all of the things I still struggle to live through… a joke, a pawn, something to leverage each other with… I am sick; politics making life, again, not worth living; nothing mattered, the truth did not matter, their ignorance, their lies did not matter. I find myself feeling rather Wilde; I was left feeling, broken, forgotten, as if I do not belong anywhere; there was nothing to lose myself in and no escape even if there were.

This country, this world, has become such a small, terrible place; I cheat, and I excuse myself, as I escape only by avoiding reality, I love the world that I create; but once there was a moment, out of time, such a terribly long time ago that I bring the memory to life often; for a time I had sunshine, and flowers, mud under my nails and rich coffee and I apologized to no one for who and how and what I am; I live with no thought regularly to why I should not be here and who I should be; yes, I do know that eventually I will die here, being banished to that other world where indeed I know because of the impermanence of life it will be as if I never did exist; every broken molecule of me will parish, every inch, every thought, but one. That molecule, that inch, that thought, its small, its infinitesimal, its worthless if you asked most, but in this world of whit and worry it is the only thing worth having; it is worth all the worlds in all the universes. I cannot lose it; I can not barter it or sell it and above it all it should never be given away. This world must get better, it must stop getting lost in all the things that are not real, such as money, race, all the false differences we draw between us; there is only one true thing about this world, there is no escape, so make your difference here and now. I must tell you, now that you see me, you know part of my life, my story and because of that I hope you understand that I Love you. I love you, despite never knowing your story, we may never meet, never laugh or cry together and I will never kiss or hug you, but I love you as dearly as my universe, as closely as a flesh and blood friend.

I love you.

It has been so many years, I hardly talk about it, but I warn you now this gets a bit graphic, but it is my story; this story is not being told for anyone else's campaign; it is not a #metoo. This is me taking a psychological victory, screaming my pain into this void like echo chamber; I know no one may hear me, and that is fine. This is one of Dante's hells I live in, wrapped deliciously in my favourite personal coping mechanism a piece of detached fiction that reads like a conversation between my super ego and my Id....

I sought freedom, the only freedom to be had in this world, music loud, the delicious truth of life’s simplicity; music is a true elixir, ideally it should be listened to at 60-80 decibels and 70 mph; everything can be made right if you just put the music on and the top down, drive 85 mph on a country road, as if you are trying to out run time itself. The sun low in the western sky; fat fluffy gray clouds float lazily over a layer of black, brooding, formidable clouds rolling in like the undaunting wall of night, mocking the artificial azure sky that lays at the last eighth of the sky, about to be swallowed up. Music playing too loud, I sang atonally along; the cool breeze of autumn playfully ruffled my hair as if I resided in a third visible universe in one place unattached to the storm or the artificial sunny day. The little silver dream I drove was cutting through the country side; coming up on a slower moving rusted out pick-up truck I worked the gearshift, not laying off the gas, dropping to fourth to pass, galloping ahead hard and fast, leaving the truck behind.

Suddenly, for the first time in ages the world almost made sense, err, I suppose it is awkward saying that because the sense it made was tenuous and momentary at best. Escape possible only by way of ignoring the horrors; after a week like the last, a little sensical nonsense was called for. I had to get away, I had to distance myself from the news and the bluster, the horrible reality; the reminders that weighed my heart, slammed my soul, obliterated my psyche; in my home, my home, the country I love, whose founding documents read of words like truth and justice; a vicious criminal is appointed to the highest court in the land; a man accused of raping three women; a charge that not so long ago would have precluded his admission; but that was then and this is now, basically more of a wild west, kangaroo, dumb-fuckery idea of conscience; we are now a people who allow the separation of children from parents, to be kept in cages. Now, because of this stupidity, people treating justice like a partisan football; horrible happenings from my past are brought front and center of my subconscious every night as I sleep. Yes, I have read books and listened to tapes as to how to guide dreams, none have prevailed.

Letting my mind wander, it was dangerous; and yes, it circled back to last night’s bout with Fate, Christ, she hit me hard and fast; for a figment of my imagination she really left me bruised, broken, bloody; I can still taste the sickly copper iron flavor of blood in my mouth, my soul limping. First. she took me on a trek into the past; tiny, horrible, years ago; Jesus, I realize, if this nightmare I carry heavy in my mind were a child it would be graduating high school; oh god, the thought, the kind that should never be thought; after, I was sentenced to a more vile prison, to a sentence more than double theirs, I see no possibility of parole from this place. I feel as if I were slowly being eaten alive; Fate, she held my face to the fire, she made me watch and relive it, over and over and over again.

I despise the fact something as delicious as this breeze can trigger panic, terror, horror; this feeling was, twice upon a time, in the valley of faded fears, my favourite season, now it sits heavy on me, like a box of babies tears. Though now, it is that recurring nightmare, I try to break free, but as he said in The Godfather ‘every time I think I am out, it drags me back in.’ I feel so pathetic, seriously, I earned my PhD in psychology, trying to outfit myself with all the tools; I should have been able to drown this demon long ago, but alas, I find the zombie bastard can swim; argh, and yes, I know that isn’t possible, no one can fight off all the memories, it's impossible to erase events, for anyone, most especially me.

Out of the blue it seems, a wonderful friend, a friend one which I didn’t know I still had; sadly I assume that I am always left behind, but she sent me in a tailspin of introspection; she asked me simply, 'are you okay?' A real flesh and blood human asked me, she noticed, she pointed out that I am not acting like myself; I have been tearing myself down, doubting the simplest things, I have even, in an odd way, seeking her approval; asking permission to hang my own pieces on my wall, my usual 'it's easier to ask forgiveness, than seek permission', attitude gone.

Gods, she is right, I know she is right; I am acting weird, different, calling myself stupid, pathetic, worthless; at first it started just stupid, small, subtle... most people bought that I was fine, they never saw it... I think. Anyways, they never called me on it. This friend, this good friend called me on it; I wrote a piece out of my usual character, at first, I loved it; then the next day in a mercurial hissy fit, I ripped into it, then in another flip I apologized for it, I am acting like a kid caught lying, obvious, blatant, guilty. This friend, ah, this beautiful friend called me on all my shit; like that guilty child, my psyche tried to hide it, then I stopped, I looked, really, I am. Then this introspection brought me to the realization that at times, not always, very rarely, I get weird, almost puritanical about sex. Usually I have a very laissez faire attitude; bi, straight, whatever flavour of the lgbtq or any other spectrum, if you get off on it, if you like it, then it's beautiful; there are people I love on all levels of depravity. It may even seem to them that I am a touch prudish because I do not partake, that is fine. Because this friend, this wonderful friend, shined a light, I could again see the bruises fate had left.

Fate had asked me, "so, if it is all good, what gets you off?" With that I was lost, nothing; everything; how was I to know? Of known experiences I have rape (not awesome) and a failed relationship (asshole never understood a thing I said, then tried to recreate experience #1); yup, two times lose on those. I know what I need, no desire, no require; with all the horrible mediocrity in this world that we seem to accept as fair sacrifice, I will not let love be among those. I want epic love, mad, passionate, crazy, undying, span the universes kind of love; anything less will be a poor substitute, meaning I can not, I will not let her take that from me; this is just one of those turns where nothing goes well. She shook me, and god, I had let Fate affect me.

The moment she reared her ugly head was pain. I was lost in a soft dream of sweet remembered soft kisses. Suddenly, a hit to my face, my eye starting to swell; a doubled fist to the gut, air rushed out in a horrible half scream. A hand wrapped in my hair slamming my head into a stony ground, again, that horrible haunting memory. Her voice chilling in a predatory growl, she wanted blood. She taunted me, "I KNOW what you wrote, hmmm, I know what you enjoyed, I told you; you can admit it, just to me, no one else is listening;" She ground her hips into mine from behind, "I know that you liked it, you loved it; I wonder, did you reach orgasm? Was it earth shattering? Did you moan like a whore?" Fate, that horrible bitch, licked up from my jaw to my temple, I stopped the urge to vomit, I felt my hate multiply, but in seconds I felt a turn inward, "You know that the hecklers are still right;" she raked her pelvis suggestively against me, three more thrusts.

"No, but it seems to get you off, dry humping me; hmm is the bitch in heat? So ya like my ass? I have been working out." She slammed my face down into the stone.

I let a painful groan escape, "You like the rough trade."

"Oh yeah," I ground out lifting my head turning to face her, "about as much as I like you."

She laughed cruelly, standing slamming her foot into my kidney. “Look at you, still so pathetic, still that laughing clown punching bag, you are always such fun; there is a lot to be said about consistency," slamming her boot into my jaw. "If it was not the roughness, the pain, was it the team effort? Now, remind me how many was it that you liked? Four or five? How many holes were the putting it into?" She ground her heel onto my palm, I try to stop the noise, a near scream, "how many holes?"

I smiled showing my blood outlined teeth, "This many." I held aloft a single middle finger.

Fate came to torture my soul time and again, with unlimited creativity; it has happened more than a few times in recent days; using more taunts, planting more doubts, inflicting more pain; cracking open my soul leaving it weeping and bereft. The more it happened the more I began to believe that she was right; yes, maybe I really enjoyed it; then I didn’t take the moment needed to breathe before I reacted this time out of emotion, gut check. She was right, they were all right; it was all I deserved; I asked for it, I had enjoyed it. Though that moment of introspection given to me by a gorgeous friend, gave me time to recognize this is actually an extreme rendition, interrogation tactic, the kind used in interviews at Gitmo; some good interrogators can even implant false memories, causing false confessions.

I woke from the nightmare; I gathered my own thoughts. I had to run; I had to hide. I hated; I hated the world and all the people in it, I hated myself and most of all I hated all this wasted time. If I had known Life before would I blame him, hate him… yes, right now, in fact I do.

I drove faster, not even slowing at bends in the road; why was I running? What good could it do? I know can not escape when the horror is inside my own skull. The green leaves starting to turn gold, some starting to age red at the edges. I whisked through the countryside, far too fast; it was liberating. God, this is my favourite season; there is something so sultry and libidinous about fall; I let go of the wheel, raising my arms joyous in the air. The feeling, the smell, the look, it seems to get my heart racing and my mind reeling; in pure celebration of the seasons change, the bite to the wind and the trill of cinnamon to the air, senses that are so much Life, oh me, oh my, oh my favorite things. Dark chocolate, eaten slowly, savored and enjoyed; passionate literature read in a hot bath tub that requires an entry like bugs bunny getting into the boiling cauldron; music, so many lovely perfect kinds of music, hard hitting, rampaging, soothing and truly sensual all appreciated savored and enjoyed… Please, Life... I need you. Why don't you come? I call to you, I miss you.

Before even fate showed the aphasia really affected my self-confidence; I no longer had my words, I constantly sounded either stupid or drunk or both, that had shaken me to my core; with both of those, it changed my own reactions. Then America, my home, is not helping, the president mocking a rape survivor, his little toadies backing him up. It just tore a hole in my psyche, in my soul, letting all these demons back. This is not me really... but what is me?

For me, after the attack, the police, they never doubted; the bruised and bloody the evidence abounded, they had no trouble even finding the culprits, but the faculty, the students... not so kind... I heard the whispers, they never looked at me, not the real me, I was just a disregarded scrap.

My lips hurt, they were cracked in two places, my ribs were bruised, all making me wonder if Fate was more than just my horrible subconscious. More than the conscience that makes a coward of me; makes me want to run for the shelter of a strong set of arms. My foot slacks off the gas pedal; I was losing my will to run, I realized that I was not able to run from this kind of mountain.

"Why can't you hear me?!” I yelled at the building clouds so hard my throat ached; they were heavy with rain. I saw the edges of refracted rainbows as they slid slowly in front of the sun.

Soft, so close to my ear, I felt the breath of Life. "But I did."

I swerved, nearly off the road, I screamed, slamming in the clutch not touching the brake, cutting the wheel sharply, putting the car into a full 360 spin, it almost came to a rest. "Jiminy Cripcity Roosevelt Christmas, man. You could have just killed me." I collected my galloping heart, letting the clutch out in 3rd gear screeching off the tires. He laughed, his words sunk in slowly, I understood his words and they angered me, I slid the gearshift into 4th, without the clutch; "Yeah, right, you heard me, sure. So, what you are saying that as usual when the world begins using me for a toilet brush, I am on my own; lemme guess, all for character building I am sure. Just go, I do not need you anymore. Just get out." I leaned into the gas, not caring the speed, anger making my eyes begin to run.

"What the hell was that?" He reached his hand over, gripping mine, "wound a little tight their honey; let’s get you relaxed” he started rubbing the inside of my wrist, my breathing slowed. "I wish, with every ounce of power I have, I wish I could have come when I heard your cries, they caused an ache in me so cutting so horrible, I cried. I don't know how I heard you or how I am here now."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." I jeered my hand waving him away. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, his expression was so hurt, “God, I shouldn't have mocked... I’m just angry, but not at you,” I took a long breath, “I am sorry" I whispered, easing off the gas.

"Then just stop, pull off the road, talk to me."

I sighed seeking that cognitive reset. "Okay." There was a wooded turn out just ahead. I pulled the car over, stalling out, killing the engine. I rolled my eyes internally; it has been ages since I stalled out. I swiped the little tears away. "So, what? What is it that you want?" My jaw set. "What?"

He sighed, seeing this was going to be an uphill battle; he reached for my hand bringing the palm to his lips; instantly my jaw slacked, and air rushed from my lips, "I missed you." He kissed the tender pad of my palm. "I know you have been in pain. Tell me what caused it; tell me haunts you." His fingers still softly drawing hypnotic circles on my wrist.

"Ah, pain, but where to start? We could do a chronological study into the beginning of pain; it might take a while." I try to sound unbothered.

"Where this pain, your pain, the one that has had you screaming, where that pain started." His face so beautifully earnest, and there is an importance to being earnest. “Please…” he breathed

"Words, it always begins with words, then those sticks and stones; they come hard."

He let one hitched chuckle out, "Wow, what a cop out." He dared.

I breathed again, then let it out slow, "Dammit really?” he nodded, “shit, with this whole 'legitimizing rape' floating around, taking even the one recourse for a victim of said crime has if it takes an unlucky turn. They have the audacity to mock and berate a survivor of a crime, I have seen them, mock hurricane victims, the disabled, they come just shy of saying that they want all of us defectives to die they put a rapist on the high court, now this monstrosity that will end my only piece of mind. My…" he held up his hand.

Clicking of his tongue stopped me. "No, not what I asked for Joan of arc, I was asking for the story, for this pain I see in your eyes, not a history of the worlds ills. I want your story."

"Eg, yeah, but that’s not important, it's really not even worth telling."

"Just stop; stop with the bullshit, stop deflecting; I want to hear your story, please, just tell me the goddamned story.” He gritted his teeth, “sorry, but I hate when you make light of yourself; you are making fun of my favourite person in the world, I am sorry just, please, just tell me."

"Cheese and crackers man, it is a horrid little pathetic thing. But fine." I take a breath, “Shit, my story…" I could not form the words. "hey, what’s better I could just tell you the tale of the little engine that should have known better, but still did it anyway.”

"No," he watched me closely, not letting his impatience show "I want to know your story, your pain, please."

"Shit, shit, shit, OK, shit... dammit," I hit the steering wheel, I pressed my forehead into the hard surface of the wheel, "but don't say I didn't warn ya. Shit” minutes passed, I said nothing.

He reached over holding my shoulders, "Honey, nothing that would make you too nervous to say, could be a waste of time, you are that fearless girl that never holds her tongue. Trust me, I think I can help." His thumb rubbed tenderly.

"I am neither fearless, nor am I a girl; I am a right old horrible spinster," I huffed, I fiddled with my fingers. I looked in his eyes; “I am" I stopped gathering my thoughts; "I don’t think you will like this as well as you think; I know what will happen after its all out, so, I must preface with a goodbye, you have been lovely. I know your opinion of me will slip; you won't want to know me after I finish, so thank you." He looked doubtful, but I knew, gods, I will miss him. "Before I start, I want to say, even if it means nothing to you, if no one ever tells you, I love you." A tear streaked from my eye, "What am I? Nothing," he shook his head vigorously, "look at me, I know most don’t think much of me, red round cheeks and usually a smile, no makeup and holes in my jeans; I have been told many, many, times after having conversations with people that my Naivety was endearing, but if I had ever encountered the real world my outlook would become as jaded as theirs. I may act like I have encountered nothing but sweetness and light in a noodle salad life, but that is far from the truth. I believe that you can encounter the worst that life has to offer and choose your reaction to it. You can stop believing in the world around you or you can continue to believe in kindness, understanding, and trust. Some say it is just denial, burying my head in the sand that allows me think that life is still what we make it… I Laugh and Laugh… If they knew what this girl, well, shit, here you go. Enough wasting time, I will get down to it. It's a shit story..." I wiped my hands down my face, the a swipe under my nose with the bad of my hand, then on my thighs, "shit," I sighed out, “Too many years ago it was a bright sunny day; a warm fall morning with a light breeze. I was worried about a calculus test; the biggest thing on my mind were cos A and sin B. I was on the phone ironing out a scheduling problem; I was talking to my internship mentor on the first cell phone in my family, dad got it for my safety because of my commute 90 miles to school. Jabbering on about what, I don’t even remember, I reached into the back seat for my bag. Sighing and hanging up the phone, preparing for the day ahead, or so I thought." I took a steadying breath, I had evaded long enough; I couldn’t meet his gaze, I just stared straight ahead out the windshield. "Suddenly, horribly brutality was introduced into my life; the surprise really isn’t as horrible as the feeling of helplessness; I was still bent closing the door with my hip I started to heft my book bag; my head caved in the rear door of my car; you should have seen it, truly impressive the damage a cranium can do." I remain in this protective tone, details curtailed "I was knocked out cold; I slowly came out of my haze I felt pain, searing horrible pain, but not my head, I heard ripping material; I smelled blood my blood; flying back to reality and I know what is happening, the animal grunting and horrible rhythm; pain, it’s between my legs; no one had ever been there before;" I heard Life take a savage breath, it was nice to know someone cared, even if it was just for show. I wiped the dampness from my face again.

"They raped me, I did not count or really anything." I tried to laugh it off, "they beat me, pulled my hair, god, one stood one foot on my head so I couldn’t move and urinated on my face as that other one finished, they called me whore, and cum bucket, and worse; every part of my body was used and abused; I lost, my hands blindly flail, I try to kick. I was savaged by animals I use the term loosely. They ransacked my car as they took turns, seeing my viola in the trunk and to punish me for fighting they crushed my left hand, they kicked me, beat my head into the pavement repeatedly. When they had finished with me and my car, the cruelest one of them, pulled the scarf wrapped around my neck and strangled me, they murdered me, and I do have to say part of me did die. As they did they laughed, god, they laughed, horrible laughs, they creep into my conscious when anything goes awry. I lost consciousness, I guess they assumed I died, I woke, I don’t know how much time passed, but I woke in a pool of blood and …err other, I got in my car and drove to the security station on the bottom level… yeah." I shook. He rubbed my hand; I pulled away quickly, I could have spit on him, but it was not him the anger belonged to. "What is madness but nobility of soul, at odds with circumstance?"

"My god, I was expecting bad, but my… my heart, it is broken” ready to face the loss of him, I turned, I watched his face as the light died in the low, dark, rain swollen clouds; a delicate falling rain drank in the dusk; it felt like it swallowed my misery whole and for that I was grateful; shrouded in silence, the branches of the trees above wrapped me in their stoic peace. Shadows fell across us the boundaries lost their edges, as the borders were erased, once again the wonder if I had ever really existed. His presence was always so elegantly reassuring, and still I had to remind myself it was not him I was so mad at.

"Yeah, so, how was that for a hard luck story? The first time I have told anyone since I left the police station. Not exactly Disney Channel friendly, but I am waiting to hear back from lifetime." I laughed; the sound was hollow. "Peachy side, I didn't end up knocked up or diseased; so, maybe the universe heard that plea." I sniffed, my frustration returning. He trailed his hand lightly down my damp cheek. I flinched away, shy, stupid, embarrassed, "pretty pathetic, huh?"

He shook his head. "Shh, stop that please, you don’t have to mock yourself in that Cyrano de Bergerac style you always use; you are not beating me to a punch line, I was never going for one” he ran his hands over his face, “did you not hear your story? My heart is broken." I tried to look away; his gentle hands coaxed my gaze back. "I heard a story of survival, those monsters tried to end you; here you are, fight intact, undaunted, truly indomitable, the rest just damaged facia."

I looked in his eyes, "Fate has been taunting, mocking me, whispering that I liked the assault,” I stopped, hesitating, “that has me doubting everything."

His face skeptical, eyebrow raised, "And you believe those taunts?" He shook his regal head.

Temper sparked, "kind of,” I stopped, feeling stupid, I bristled, “I do, okay. So what?"

"Why?" He cajoled. "Really, tell me why; the whole truth answer." He sat back like Cesar at the gladiator games, "hold nothing back, I can take it."

Apparently, he was satisfied that I was soundly kicking my own ass. "I wrote out, an imaginary tryst, you and I, we were on a boat, it was just delicious, an escape, there was a touch of rough to it... some of the details were... similar to... that." my voice stopped working. "I liked it a lot, but then I got overwhelmed, confused; how can I like that, without liking the other. The reality of that implication," I sniffed, fluttering my hands; that horrible weird guilt weighing my soul, I knew it was just my own psyche, but it was horrendously irresistible; I stopped I gave up; "shit, now you know; you know… everything why I am so deplorable... grotesque... disgusting." I rolled my eyes closed, I concentrated on my breathing, minutes clicked by finally I opened them, expecting that he had blew away on the breeze.

I met his gaze, I saw no pity, no disgust; I saw him, just Life. Confused, I searched further, still none.

"You are not. You know better than most that feelings can be deception; sex, isn't just soft, isn't just rough, it is never one flavour; it is the connection, the intention." He ran his hands through my hair. Pressing it back behind my ear the way I like it. "Honey, there is no equation between your rape and having a touch of rough in a fantasy. It does not mean you liked being helpless, beaten, or broken, the intention there was viciousness; there was no connection there, no trust" he sighed.

I gave a derisive chuckle, "right."

He dropped my hand, pulling away, gaining my full attention. "You apparently have made up your mind not just for you but also what I would think; you really must be magic; I think you would be surprised by what I think.”

I let a derisive chuckle out, “Sure because you are some kind of paragon.”

“I wouldn’t say paragon, but I heard every word you said. It made me so mad that you would think that way about you.” I rolled my eyes. He growled, and good god something in me was listening, something found the sound so delicious that it made me tingle; I scanned his eyes, there was still softness there. “Honey, look, I heard a story of an invasion, a horrible, massive invasion. I don't care if you were splayed naked on a table saying, 'come and get it big boy, give it to me hard,'” I let a snerk of laughter out at the idea. “if it was not the specific person you were talking to; that was an invasion. You cannot discount a rougher, needy kind of love making; accepting carnal love rougher more animal in its display requires trust in the intention of the other party, it is not simply the actions; Accepting love rougher, that act of trust is never more shameful or dirtier; it is a communication telling the other party, I trust you to be just this much, but no more; the instant you voice a dislike and it continues it becomes the other; it’s all up to you, whatever is pleasing to you, only you. There is no right, there is no wrong, no disgusting or dirty; sex is all about the feeling, expressing.” I understood what he was trying to say, but I really didn’t want to hear it, I knew he was trying to placate me, I tried to ignore him; “Don't be like a velvet glove cast in iron, dealing only in absolutes." I had to look away, “love is love, is love, is love, and it all matters” the storm gaining strength, he released the top and pulled it up; kissing the top of my head as he passed. "Sweeting, the space between absolutes..." he sighed, "remember, you said that is where you had chosen to live, you were right, it is the place where life happens." He ran his hands through his hair; his frustration evident, then a light hit his eyes; "I would really like to read this fantasy, curiosity leads me to wonder," he chuckled, "I just wonder if it would match up to any of mine." I shot him a skeptical look. “oh, honey; I have had so many fantasies since the first time you appeared.”

I had no words to say, I just sat watching him, waiting for the change.

He sat, looking at me, the storm began to rage, much like the maelstrom that had been inside me for so long; I pulled the piece up on my phone handing it to him. We were more than damp, I noticed I had been shivering; for how long, no one knows. I sat watching the storm split the sky; I started the car, flipping a bitch, starting back in the opposite direction; he was deeply ensconced in my words, he reached over with out looking up, turning on the heat, directing the vents at me.

I shot him a look, just a glance; but what I saw. God, the power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that I had never believed in its power; no one now dares to say that two beings have fallen in love because they looked at each other. Yet, an unguarded look can tell you so much, love, despise, languor and fear; tenderly in his exquisite look, I saw the most gorgeous thing, understanding; an acceptance. I was astonished, I was bewildered, dizzy, in a daze; I still did not understand, I began wondering what universe he was from... My stomach panged, rumbling as loud as the storm, I ignored it.

"Hey, can you pull in up there, you need something to eat." There was a neon sign in the distance, that advertised barbeque, I was surprise he could even see if as he didn’t look up from my words. I pulled in, reading the sign that promised barbecue and drinks, after all it was Texas, a bourbon sounded just right. I pulled in and parked; I was a numbed, near depressed but electrified, dumbfounded, impressed and slightly aroused; all the roiling emotions had my jaw clenched, I was disassociated, separated, on autopilot. My feet moving me through the rain, but I was a cloud of confused emotion; a stranger in a strange land; emotion was not my wheelhouse. Wandering idly toward the door; passing the columns, he gripped my shoulders almost punishingly. He spun me to face him, his face dark and serious, I began shivering, he pressed me to the wall. His face serious, but the passion burned; again, that growl, it hit the bottom of my stomach, warming, making my legs shake; he kissed me, suddenly, deeply, no warmup, no cuddling into my lips just immediately lips and tongue. Tucking his knee between my legs pressing hard, soft mewling left my throat caught in his mouth. He pinned my arms to my sides I tried to touch him, but he wouldn’t yield, he wanted to kiss me, his way; and yes, I liked it, he ran his tongue along the roof of my mouth, I moaned softly into his mouth, rocking gingerly against his knee; the visceral feeling. He started to deepen the kiss even more, his knee caressing, moving with intention. A quiet shudder rocked me. He sucked in a deep controlling breath, resting his forehead against mine, staring deeply into my eyes; I shook like a leaf as we parted. Shaking I clung to his shoulders.

"Now, kitten, did you feel my intention, to bring you pleasure?" I nodded, "was there pleasure?" I bit my lip, a small smile creeped, I nodded. "You know, the fact that you know the horrible purity of absolute, pure despair; doesn’t mean that is all there is in this universe." He kissed me again, faintly. He passed his fingertips over my skin, almost without touching an experience that neither of us had expected or experienced before, the miracle of feeling myself in another body, "Now, did you feel that?"

"Yes," I whispered, I was shadow pinned against a sweating wall; needing more, my soul pleading for more, but I was frozen; "Oh there was a moment there; oh me, oh my; as you began a whisper of that kiss; clearer than any whispered words; god there was something there that makes it all worthwhile; that was the edge, hmm, the edge is what I have; truth of this fiction, it's the edge of flavour that makes the difference.” I giggled, “there was a time when I would speak words that made sense." I giggled.

"Yes. But what truth is there in sense?" He laced my fingers with his and pulled me after him; we walked in me confused actually wanting to go back to being pinned to that wall, we walked in. The waitress took us to a booth; I slid in first, I gasped in surprise as he slid in next to me on the same bench. He ordered me a bourbon and an order of fries; I sat there blinking, he then turns me to face him, he leans in close whispering deep and low; his breath warm on my neck, "When we are young we felt we are invincible; as we age we find ourselves, second guessing, always thinking twice." As he spoke, he planted little kisses on my neck; “I am done with that, I thought I was done paying my dues, same for you; now, I find that I have something I do not want to lose. The day you came into my life I changed again, fear still there, but also a cacophony of joy, both at odds, now every day now is just a grateful roll of the dice." His hands skimmed over my arms as they draped around his neck, freely delicious. "I look at that, it is working; you are starting to hear me; I like you, feel powerless in the lonesome times, thinking to myself 'dear god what have I done?' But with you here..." biting the edge of my ear, "you can run baby, you can try to hide, but whatever comes it will find you. For us, there is now; yesterday is history, an hour from now, no one knows for sure; but baby right now it's just you and me and that kiss, it said a lot." He turned me to face him.

Our drinks and fries came and I took a long drought, I laughed cuddling close, I felt young, I felt alive, and I really had never felt that way, “Are we mad?" he looked wounded, "but the good madness, the change the world madness."

"I want to just hold you tight; right now, we can make this moment last; don't think about anything other than helping you forget about the past, for just a moment if needs be." His kissed me slow, long deep caresses with his tongue; I tried to match him, I was awkward at first, but he led me in a natural rhythmic motion.

I missed feeling him, tasting him, gods, it was like breathing. I kissed him with everything I had. "You know, your fantasy, it was gorgeous." He kissed me again, his hands cupping my cheeks, tilting my face for a new angle. He broke from my mouth kissing down my neck. "I have sailed a 20-foot catch; I have had some very similar thoughts, but I loved that very forward confident you that you wrote."

I fumbled with my hands trying to make him feel some of what I was. "Have you really imagined us together as well?" My fingers sliding through his hair. He nodded, “I kind of assumed you were so out of my league."

He laughed, the sound rippled along my nerves; "oh, kitten, you have no idea who you actually are. Yes, I have, so many things I have fanaticized about."

I pulled away to see his eyes, they held no lie; "Even now?... after?"

He looked shocked, "Especially now." He said with conviction.

"Tell me one," I was breathless.

He held my had looking into my face, "Happily, but I would rather show you. I long to grab your hand and run to the motor inn across the parking lot, get a room." I looked out the window over his shoulder gnawing on my kiss swollen bottom lip.

"Mmm, story first," I stood firm.

"OK then, well, I suppose I could tell you about the one where you are the aggressor; holding me down using me as you will." He shook his head, "no, the one where I am the aggressor, holding you down? Kissing you slowly, teasing your nerves, dipping my fingers into you, feeling you shiver; nah, you don't look keen on that, eating chocolate ice cream off of your skin;” I really shivered, “maybe another time; I suppose, I could tell you about how I dreamt of kissing you, teasing you, then bend you over this table licking all the way up the back of you thigh and... no, no, not that one. Kitten, come here." He pulled my leg up so he could slide closer, fitting just between. "You have to use your imagination; I dream of laying you down, kissing you so hard, it takes your breath away; I want to make out with you like a teenager out passed curfew." He caressed my trembling bottom lip with his thumb. "I would get lost in your kisses; intoxicating, enticing, articulate, telling me exactly what you want, how you want it; using only the tip of your tongue you draft a treatise." He toyed with my hair idly, my eyelids began to sag half-mast; passion building in my body, "Wowzah, that scorching look in your eyes, so intent, you are so Wildely beautiful; why, oh why do you squash that want, fighting it like a foe, a weakness; please, just... let it free."

His hand began caressing my neck, I could not have stopped myself from rolling my head, so my neck was wide open for his lips. His tongue. "I love kissing your neck, licking, taking little bites, right here." His fingers wisping passed the place where neck meets shoulder, my bones melted; he smiled mischievously, shot me a naughty look wiggling get his brows. He slid his fingers along my neckline, his touch whisper soft; his voice low, rumbling, deep, "deliberately I descend along your succulent curves;" my body raising to meet his fingers, straining for attention. "I watch you arch your back, just like that; I can't take my time learning; your heaving breasts wanton for attention, nipples like diamonds," oh and they are, his two fingers caress along the crevice between my breasts. My breathing hitched, coming in soft pants, his eyes gorgeous reverent. "I reveal the state in which I see your nerves are in; rampaging, greedy, alive for just a whisper of a touch; oh, but I want more" he sunk in closer, enjoying the slight shake of my shoulders. His hot mouth kisses just behind my ear, his tongue licking along my skin; his lips playing with the cords in my neck as I let out a sighing moan, just a solitary note; his fingers toying with the area of my soft sweater, just over my the area of my nipple. "Your belly covered with barely visible downy hairs, soft, soft, so soft;" he slipped his fingers of his other hand up under the hem of my sweater, just above my waistband; his first hand dropping to my thigh, dipping between rubbing with soft curious fingers; the nail of his wide thumb, scraping along the seam between; "they are standing up because of the goose bumps I just made." His fingers velvet soft over my skin, I try clamped my thighs together he keeps that from happening. "Pushing passed the band of your jeans, I reach for what I crave the most." His second hand skimming a rougher scratching fingernail along the seam; his other fingers just trace along the skin along the edge of the bottom of my bra, his lips kissed along my neckline. "I would make you moan," I squirmed, "I would form a symphony of your empassioned calls, all the delicious sounds of satisfaction; I will be ruthless in my intent, pleasure my only goal; releasing you from the past, my hope. I know you will want to run, to escape, but at the same time you will be wanting more;" he pulled back, "more; look at you, breathtaking, deliciously titillated. Your cheeks flushed, you lips slightly parted; eyes glossy, erotic, steamy, fervid, seductive, coaxing, shameless; saying every want your lips refuse." Pulling at the hem of my sweater, "I want to slip my hand under your panties, sliding my fingers across your damp skin. God, I have wanted that for so long" His fingers ghost over my skin, reaching the edge of my satin bra; his lips crashed into mine, his kiss demanding, delicious, scalding; his hand enveloping my breast; his thumb rubbing delicately, I react honestly. I grabbed his wrist of his hand that was resting on my thigh, pulling his fingers to my mouth, sucking. The clench in my belly responding to his hand slipping under my bra. I pull away, gasping; I stand, dropping a ten on the table.

"Shit, I am sorry," his breath laboured, his face recalcitrant, "I pushed too far, too fast; I am sorry; so, where are we off to?" He looked disappointed, sad.

"Well, I decided, you are right," viciously, I let that hang in the air; “you should just show me. Our direction, over there," I pointed out the window to the inn.

He looked like a child at Christmas, he grabbed my arm tossing me over his shoulder, I giggle and squeal, he moved quickly to the door. We were out and across the parking lot swiftly, he was running; the rain drenching us; he dropped me to my feet under the awning. "I'll be right back."

I watched him fill out the forms, pay the woman, and he bounded back. "We will make, new experiences, giving you back all the power. Let’s roll." Pulling me over his shoulder again; I squealed, I laughed; he slapped my rump, I moaned.

And outside it was October Country . . . that country where it is late in the year and everyone is tired and waiting for that one good thing to break; country where the amber hills covered in fog, rivers are mist and ice; where noon shortly proceeds sundown, twilights linger, and mid-night’s stay; geese and dusks on their parade to the south; dilled carrots and jams are lined into cellars, sweaters, coats, jackets, are cycled to the front of closets, boots and gloves to the entry way, coffee and tea served hot and steamy with fresh cookies and it seems for a season everything faces away from the sun. October people, think October thoughts and wish that the Christmas stuff would remain hidden for another season, and passing nights, cool, bundled in warm socks and a large sweater walking or listening to the light rain on the tin roof hoping the winter doesn’t kill hope

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