#if you think i cant be happy

[andyxcds]

rosekiller microfic -- green (aug 6) | @rosekillermicrofic

(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ Word Count: 955 tags: slight violence. i'd reccomend reading the previous part linked here, or you might be a tad confused, so sorry!!

ᓚᘏᗢ ...

To see Barty on his knees, cradling and pressing his head into the thighs of another man was implicating evidence. It was the kind of news that took any prospects off his portfolio, shunning him to an uphill battle of, “I am who I am, I can’t change that,” with his father.

But to Evan, it felt green. That feeling of colour when you can breathe or something has been shoved down your system like water. It proved that some emotions and feelings had colours; that was how Evan felt. Green.

This colour, however, was not the colour that rose onto Evan’s face as Barty’s fingers pulled his from his hair and onto his cheeks, begging for forgiveness. A red tinge stained his cheeks as he felt Barty’s hot tears drip onto his fingers, and he wanted to wipe them off.

Unfortunately, the days Evan wiped Barty’s tears had been long and gone. Now his pride refused to let him indulge in destroying himself. So, he looked at the sky.

There were practically no bright lights blocking out the stars, but some six-odd years of pollution changed the way it looked. There wasn’t even much light in the alleyway where they stood. It was a large alleyway with lamp posts towards the farthest wall and one on the opposite side.

It was dry but musty with little mud, and perhaps that was why Barty was so comfortable kneeling. Evan found it easy to slide into his thoughts rather than face the man before him.

“Evan, please.” Barty cried softly. “I won’t do it ever again. I swear it.”

A beat passed and Evan waited, starting to understand the meaning of his words. Nothing came as easy to Barty as lying. He told the truth, yes. But when was the truth, not the truth? It was when you didn’t know what the lie could be. It was when the truth became the only tangible thing in your relationship. But Evan had learned how to discern the truth from a lie, and he was damn good at it.

But that was not a lie. And as much as it pained Evan to hand Barty that satisfaction, it pained him more that he was ready to give Barty that satisfaction. He was ready to throw away months of hatred just for some sweet moments in Barty’s arms.

Evan slid his fingers from Barty’s downcast face to grip his jaw. He finally brought himself to look down at the mess before him.

“How dare you cry at my feet? And swear the truth to me?” Barty was now afraid to meet those angry but softened blue eyes.

Evan continued to speak softly. “Nothing good comes out from your lips, Barty. You know that. Nothing good comes out of your actions. You called me here to see you. To talk to you. And you kneel down at my feet after parading a woman that looks just like me. How dare you?”

As Evan spoke, Barty’s heart picked up just at the words Evan was saying, finally addressing him. He was glad to say that Evan still wanted to hear him out.

“But—” Suddenly, the need to explain himself presided over.

“Don’t. You shouldn’t be trying to explain yourself. You can only keep fucking up.” Evan dropped his hand from Barty’s jaw and his face couldn’t stand to meet Barty’s as he rose to his feet.

Barty, with unmatched bravery, reached out for Evan’s hand which was pulled away before contact. Barty reached out again but this time, a pain bloomed in his jaw. A kind of familiar pain that he only could recall feeling back in his boarding school days.

So many bottled-up feelings were released into that punch and Evan could finally breathe. The green feeling had subsequently faded into a soft red. Now, he could truly hear Barty out.

“You can talk now,” Evan said as he watched Barty rub over his jaw and keep his eyes on the ground. He soon recovered because he was finally able to see eye to eye with Evan. They could be on even ground. But Evan knew that that punch was nothing compared to the full beatdown he wanted to give Barty.

“Do you want to hit me?”

Evan found that he had nothing green left in his system. “No. Not anymore.”

“Then can you forgive me?” How brash Barty was to pose these questions so quickly.

“I’m not sure.”

Together, they felt the air go sour between them. “Will you at least have me? Can you take me back?”

Evan stared into Barty’s seemingly black eyes for long seconds. No.

“Fuck you. I’m going home.” Evan readjusted his white shirt and smoothed out his khakis when he walked away and left Barty standing there with his hands at his side.

He only got as far as the back door with his hands in his pockets before he turned around to meet Barty right behind him. It was now or never. If he left this space, this space where his emotions became so real, he was not certain where else he would be able to act on it.

They stood at the same height, Barty and Evan. Similar build even, with their lean figures. But it was horrific how perfectly they fit together life-cut puzzle pieces. On their own, nothing made sense. Wasn’t that why Evan showed up? Because he needed clarity?

Evan pressed his lips to Barty, catching Barty’s lower lip in the process but did not let that kiss last for more than a minute. A long minute.

But Evan might’ve taken Barty back if that green feeling hadn’t come back. Perhaps it was blue this time. Sad.

[inkskinned]

the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.

when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."

but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.

now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.

the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.

but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."

the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.

but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?

because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!

and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.

[ash-and-starlight]

oh my god no way..,the lion,,,, is homosexual ,, 🫢

happy lunar new year! did you know that despite what wikipedia says the lion dance is a relatively recent practice, and was in fact invented in @ranilla-bean’s fic Pride of Place? click the link for more fun facts!

[dreamyblanket]

Yearning from the nothing dimension [rambling in tags ^^]

[heavensilence]

Someone save mona from these fags

[nidbaesenpai]

Context: friend got Memory of Sadness on their first friendquest to the end of the House. Big emotional whiplash but I love it, Siffrin just wants to stay in this happy bubble with allies. :)

[arataka-reigen]

I'm trying to start a movement here

[ID: The first 3 images are edited versions of the "Let's take ibuprofen together" meme. The captions now say "Let's read shoujo together". They each show a person holding their hand out to the viewer; a character from the series Benigyokuzui, Mob from Mob Psycho 100, and Jerma. / end ID]

ID provided by @siroofington thank you so much

[jinstronaut]

happy 27th birthday, jeon jungkook (전정국) ! (cr. dwellingsouls, namuspromised)

[yudol-skorbi]

i forgor to add it to previous sketchdump

love kiki's new makeup her dead emo bf would be so proud

[hinamie]

idk about yall but life is good again

[electronicmail]

Firefox-official vs electronicmail

Hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby

okay come up with a better idea then. firefox-official is gone asshole it’s electronicmail or nothing

[tubbytarchia]

I don't know what this is all I know is that LimL Joel makes me really emotional

[canonkiller]

do it all for love

[dykedvonte]

Curly's little blurb on his steam trading card just keeps reminding me he is a much more miserable person than people realize.

We don't get a lot of his thoughts, inner confliction that aren't bogged down by what Jimmy says or does. Even in the The Last One and Then Another, his dialogue is reflective, not the Curly before the crash but the result of everything. Parts of the him he was are there of course, but also disfigured and warped beyond recognition just like he is physically.

Curly really doesn't think much of himself and desires. He clearly chases fleeting moments of happiness. He doesn't really have prospects for himself, assumes in a similar way to Swansea, that if it should make it happy then he is happy. Though, he hasn't reached the point Swansea did to admit it doesn't. He neither sees the glass half full or empty, it's just water, something he needs and he'll take it from any perspective.

He wasn't running from anything but he's never really been going towards something either. He's listless. I've been using the term complacent to describe how he feels about his life and the closest people (really just Jimmy) in it, but now that word feels too neutral, too nice. Happier than Curly really was. There isn't just one word for it, he's unfulfilled, uncertain, uninspired. There are no active problems he faces and that's the issue, why should he be upset?

I believe he really is a person who doesn't know who he is or wants to be. He follows a structure. I don't think he's suicidal, but he clearly doesn't think about what makes him happy. He's numb. I suppose that is a better word than complacent, used to the feeling even if he hates it. It doesn't hurt so why stop it?

[omrarchive]

[xxplastic-cubexx]

im with fam but i always thinka him so doodle time