#im so tired im so tired im so tired why am i so deeply miserable i want to take a flight anywhere i wanna LEAVE i wanna restart from 5y ago | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bandofchimeras · 1 year ago

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posting a lot rn sorry Im gonna readmore this vent that is a standin for next therapy session

i have a lot of trauma from losing my last few housing situations over interpersonal conflict and not having enough money or being good at managing my money. I was too ashamed to ask for what I needed until it was desperate and I had no options.

I have big decisions to make that are producing so much anxiety. and am burnt out. but also grateful and astounded at the miracle that is life.

so can't handle small talk right now. my whole chest is splitting open with the need to be somewhere I feel loved and safe bc I know who tf I am now....but knowing I have to make these next moves out of my own initiative

somewhere deep in my brain I know this isn't all my fault but I had to stop victim thinking to get myself out of the Hole and consequently just Shut Up about the Pain

the last people I lived with really wanted me to shut up and conform perfectly to the anxiously controlled life they'd constructed bc I was there temporarily

and for my part I was in depression self centered funk and coming out of abuse too brainfoggerd to remember the rules

One of them is a former mutual and he was also a transmasc person I had a crush on and we had a short little Thing

what they ended up doing was 1000% shitty asshole stuff like kicking me out in the middle of winter after I communicated I was in too much pain from moving in and work, and requested a two week extension, and trying to charge me illegal "storage fees" when I needed time to get my stuff after being kicked out.

my discord friends had to help me parse that these people were not my friends and did not care about me at all. I thought they did. but the guilt they laid on thick and blamed me for their actions has been dragging around my ankles for awhile and I just want to shake it off, I want to be okay and not soaked in guilt like milk toast

the situation also led to my car being stolen, getting in a crash, my cats health severely declining until she passed away this spring. just fucking wrecking ball on everything I was attached to for any sort of comfort or sense of reality.

Right before that my long term job that was....dubiously ethical, my sort of boss fired me in a similarly guilting way, and similarly could see exactly why they had a problem with me but I just, at the time I simply could not show up how I needed to. Not killing myself was an accomplishment. And this boss was deeply prejudiced against autistic people despite running a group home. I genuinely hated her guts for how miserable she made everyone around her while also recognizing I wasn't doing much better.

anyways through this time period kitchen work has become this attachment that toughens me up and feels doable while my brain is inflamed, despite being shit for my disabled body. I can't shake free quite. I don't have a permanent house and all my friendships feel weird and troubled in that way only mutual survivors of emotionally neglectful or abusive families and religious trauma can, like every thing I do or say can be wrong, or isn't giving someone enough attention or isnt the response they want or is bad bad bad bad

and so yeah, making new friends is hard

letting people in feels impossible

looking for decent jobs too

I'm not a mess in the way I have been but it's all messy inside and I'm sad and tired and very hypersensitive to rejection, every day breaks and makes me again and I miss writing and loving and feeling good

I thought pride would be so fun and make me feel better. It was cool in a lot of ways, but also grimly corporate and fangless and expensive, there were a ton of missed connections and the couple I went with was being nitpicky and hurtful to each other and even at the club dressed to the nines and dancing my little gay heart out I felt disconnected and ignorable (maybe it's just a Seattle thing, moving from a small-town environment into big urban reminds you you're nothin special all in all) and couldn't see the magic

I miss my ex or at least keep seeing stuff that reminds me of caring about her in that specific way and the bridge we tried to build across everything despite it all and I know we still care about each other just couldn't stop the fucking awful Bullshit, moving on would be easier if I could just dismiss people entirely

and at work things started falling apart too, my boss got super guilt happy at overworked caregivers and I lost all respect for him and was mega triggered and posted about it and embarrassed myself. theyre more okay I guess but everyone seems so demoralized and worn down by being criticized and used up and overcharged and under loved and I don't want to give any more right now, I want to rest rest rest and make art and I can't let myself while I'm living in someone's living room and both of us are working around eachothers mood disorders

meanwhile my family while making progress is still on about how I have to accept criticism of my gender identity if I want to talk to them about the harm done by their religious ideology and MEANWHILE I develop deep feelings for yet another unavailable cis man for bare minimum shit

i don't know I guess it feels like other people know how to have friends and love and enjoy things and I am missing the boat and if I don't change something indistinguishable super fast, it will be too late for me and I will continue to ruin every good thing that comes my way and.magnetically attract trouble

and it doesn't help that my attempts to connect online also feel desperate and awkward like I'm really a sick puppy who wants headpats but aren't we all they say

some days I do think overall it would be easier to Kermit but I can't do that to my siblings AND there are many buoyantly beautiful things bout life I am looking forward to like top surgery and kissing boys like I mean it which someday will feel real and not like a knife twist in the chest

also I haven't got enough sleep lately and my period came back so hopefully this stupid shit is more bearable in a few days I'm just gonna watch OFMD and hug myself to sleep and literally kill anyone who is a hater about the tiny things that bring me joy bc I am fucking doing my best out here to stay afloat and not yuck other people's yums either

#personal #i wanna say BPD but also just #too much shit happening #also my fuck ass ex employer has nog emailed me back about my tax documents #which i need to get my return #everything is too much i really do want and need a hug #suicide mention

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danniburgh · 4 years ago

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Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 21

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.9k

Chapter warnings: uhm, this chapter is Javier’s perspective ehehe, so, beware fo feelings

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode ten. // again, i am really fucking sorry, but we are ALMOST DONE OMG, also i wanna say thanks to my official cheerleaders @queenofthefaceless and @maharani-radha-writes that helped me a lot and @alliterative-albatross that made me feel sure of some of the ideas i had for this chapter, i love you lots, guys. While proof reading this chapter for the first time i understood why it was the hardest to write, it was because i had just to strip myself naked and understand more of Javier Peña as i had built him... i just... im not quite pleased with the second half of this, but i know its needed.

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

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gif: @javier-pena (thank you so much for making this when i needed it the most, ily)

The air weighed on his chest; he felt his lungs struggling to find air; as he drove home, he felt his heart pounding hard and fast, as if it wanted to rip out of his chest and run and hide and die.

As if his heart wanted the same he did.

Javier couldn’t sleep that night. He didn’t even try to close his eyes after climbing into bed.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you.

Jesus Christ.

His mind was reeling, he couldn’t stop replaying every single thing you told him in his mind.

“My name is not Florencia Martín”

“A precarious situation”

“Another Los Pepes scenario”

“You do care, you care a lot”

He wanted to crawl into a deep hole and bury himself to stop his body from feeling.

Javier cringed deeply when he remembered he had told you he had fallen in love with you without even thinking about it.

That certainly wasn’t the way you were supposed to find out.

He guessed, while tossing around on his bed, on the same sheets that still smelled like you, that he had it coming. He probably deserved it. But that didn’t make him feel any better, it stung.

It burned.

Javier had stripped himself naked for you, more than just his body, he had let you see him; he had let you touch him; he had let you read him; he had let you know him.

He had let himself feel and… he had let himself think he deserved something good.

He felt like such an idiot, stupid and embarrassed because there you had been… Standing in front of him, in a place he thought it would become something close to his fortress, breaking him. And he let you.

God. He had known you for less than six months, and yet he let you have power over him. All that power to make him whatever you wanted. He had handed you a sledgehammer and his heart and soul on a porcelain platter for you to shatter.

And he just took it.

Javier huffed at his own thoughts while his eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He was an idiot, wasn’t he? Having let himself feel all those things he had been so beware of for a woman he never really knew.

What else was fake about you?

He felt that sting, known and oh so foreign clench in his throat and he fought it. He fought it hard. Why was he feeling like that?

“A precarious situation”

“You do care, you care a lot”

He sat up and brought his knees to his chest, clenching his jaw so tight his face started trembling.

He had to unclench it so he could open his mouth and gasp for air because his lungs were tightening in his chest and he knew he just had to let go. He shook his head to nothing and fought it again. He would not break. He couldn’t.

But then he remembered he was all alone. Just him and his mind and... he stopped fighting for the first time in years and allowed his feelings to pour down from his eyes.

Javier clenched his jaw again as he felt the thick, years old tears pouring and pouring, clouding his sight, flooding his face.

“Fuck,” he muttered to nothing, resting his face on his hand and his arm on his knee, his chest struggling with the silent sobs he was drowning in.

Javier cried for around an hour.

He allowed himself to cry, to cry for you, because if he had allowed himself to fall in love with you and he had allowed you to wield power over him, he deserved a chance to fall apart as well.

He had earned it.

His tears of grief and pain became tears of anger and pain.

He was so angry; at himself, because, thinking again about everything you had told him, you had said something right; he had dragged you into having whatever the hell you two had. He had kissed you and practically turned your wrist into starting something with him only, and just only because he felt lonely. Because he felt like maybe, for the first time in decades, he could have something good. Because he felt like maybe it was time for him to love and be loved again when, in reality, he didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone.

He had let himself believe you could be something else, less complicated. But how wrong he was… Him? Loved? As if. Him? In Colombia? Laughable.

That country… It became more than clear how much he had lost by going down there.

He huffed again in between tears at how it took a massive hit to the heart for him to realize how much he had lost in the years he had been there.

He was so angry; at the system. The fucking system that forced you and him into taking assignments you didn’t deserve to take. There wasn’t another moment he hated more right then, than the moment he had said yes to returning to Colombia. His dad was right, he didn’t like what he found. And it truly changed him before he could change it. How he wanted to have listened to him, how he wanted to not be the stubborn ass he was and just… said no.

And you? You had taken an assignment that promised unreachable things, one that forced you into turning into a liar, one that didn’t let you be yourself.

Fuck, was he really trying to find justifications for what you did even though you had broken him in pieces?

He was so angry; at you. For lying to him and from dropping the facade, for taking off the mask that he had rushed to love, for thinking he deserved the truth instead of you leaving once everything was over. He thought it would have hurt less if you had just… disappeared.

He wouldn’t be crying at three in the morning on his bed if you had just vanished into thin air.

Javier remembered seeing the hope in your eyes when you were telling him the truth, who you really were, he saw it and he wanted to tell you he forgave you. But neither of you deserved something that good.

He was sure it all was some kind of karma. A penance for all his sins, a way too high price he had to pay for all the shit he had done.

He realized then, while sitting on his bed in the middle of the night, the same one he had shared with you for nights that felt burned into his memory, that you and him weren’t so different.

That you two had more in common than he had first thought. That you, as he had said to you before, when you were still wrapped around his arms on that same bed, were a person who was willing to do anything for a greater cause. That you as well were capable of doing anything if you thought it did good, that you also were capable of sacrifice, of losing everything as long as you were doing what you thought was the right thing.

And you had told him, as you cried your eyes out in front of him, facing him and facing and taking all the repercussions of your actions, that you really thought it was the right thing to do.

The realization was truly bittersweet. He didn’t like that even when you had broken his heart and stepped on the pieces as you walked out, he still understood why you did it.

After that despaired, miserable night, he decided he was done bringing you to the front of his mind, so he shoved all the memories of you and tried to repress them in the back of his head along with countless others he didn’t rather to address.

The next day he stepped into the office with less than half an hour of sleep he had seemed to catch while condemning himself in the solitude of his room and avoided looking at your still cluttered desk. Full of you.

He ignored Stoddard when he asked him where you were as he stepped out of the office to head to Cali an hour later and while the elevator brought him down to the lobby he tried to drown the way the mention of your fake name made him feel.

That morning you walked directly to the CIA office, every step you gave into the embassy hurt in your body, mind and soul as if each one had a dagger embedded deeply and an invisible hand was twisting each dagger deeper. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. You entered, unannounced, into Stechner’s office, not even trying to hide the enormous amount of pain you were going through. You were tired of hiding things.

“Ah, my favorite DEA agent,” Stechner said when he saw you walk in “well, not anymore, I guess.” he smirked and you felt his gaze linger on your body, shamelessly.

“Let’s just get this over with.” you muttered, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Oh, this is more than over, alright?” the man leaned back on his chair and reached a manila folder that rested on top of others on his desk and raised it so you could see it “resignation, what a word,” he said, putting the folder back on the desk, opening the folder and taking the sole sheet of paper on his hand “really? after you failed almost epically?” Stechner smiled humorlessly and took your resignation letter in both hands and… ripped it in half.

You drowned a gasp.

“You have a flight to Washington today at noon.” he let out softly, feigning a comprehensive tone.

“Of course I do.” you mumbled, dropping your arms to the sides, feeling your eyes flood with tears as you saw him tossing the parts of your resignation letter in the trash can.

You blinked the tears away and quietly took a deep breath, halfway achieving a fake sense of stability you had fed yourself since the night before.

What were you thinking, after everything you did they would have let you get off easy? Of course not you silly girl.

“Oh, honey, you need a hug?” Stechner asked with a teasing gaze and a fake tone of worry “I bet breaking up with Peña really did something on you, you look like a mess”

You tightened your jaw and rolled your hands into fists, Stechner noticed, and his mocking face dropped.

“Anything else?” you asked him, voice hardened, with your eyes staring right into his, admonishing him, warning him. He knew what you were capable of, you knew he did.

He shook his head twice, and you lifted your chin up.

“I really wish you the best, sweetie.” he mumbled, dropping his gaze to his desk and trying to ignore the way your face turned into a scowl at the endearment.

“No, you don’t, you fucker,” you all but growled wanting nothing more than to erase that seemingly permanent smirk off his face that grew after he raised his head to look at you “you’re happy that I’m getting out of here like this,” you chuckled bitterly “you wanted this to happen, I hope you’re satisfied.” you let out all the venom you had been keeping inside you for that man in the last sentence you spat to him.

“You’re right, but I won’t say it,” he tutted and shook his head slowly “you really cost us a lot, sweetheart,” he mumbled and you were sure you were about to spit foam from the rage inside you “I hope you know that.”

You sighed and smiled bitterly at the man. Ever so fucking disgusting. For the first time in your life, you wanted something bad to happen to someone. And you didn’t regret it.

“I won’t ever forget it.” you spat at him in a soft voice that made him glare at you with a serious face.

You turned around and walked out of his office, leaving the door open, feeling his stare on your back.

Feeling, then more than ever, the insides of your mind finishing crashing down. Finally broken. Fully broken.

You walked towards the elevator and pushed the lobby button, hoping to dissolve in the way, hoping the elevator floor would just break and the void swallowed you and your body crashed against the concrete floor of the second basement.

But instead, the doors opened on the DEA floor and Stoddard stepped inside, shooting you a concerned smile as the doors closed.

“Hi, Florencia,” he looked at you and you tried to give him a smile, knowing you failed “you okay?” he asked, you blinked a few times before looking at him. He pushed his glasses up.

“Yeah!” you let out in a squeal “just peachy.” you drifted your eyes away and sighed again.

“I… thought you were in Cali.” Stoddard let out after a few seconds, you turned to see him with your brow furrowed.

“Cali?”

“Well… yeah,” he shrugged “the boss and the guys went back to Cali this morning.”

You let out a sigh, of both relief and worry.

“Oh,” you said under your breath “no, I…” you shook your head and tried to smile at him again and failed, this time he noticed “I needed to take care of something else.”

“I see,” he mumbled, the elevator doors opened and you stepped out “you sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking at you, you nodded several times.

“Yeah, Stod,” you assured him, trying to make him believe it, not quite sure if you believed yourself “I’m fine.”

Stoddard nodded at you as the elevator doors closed and you waved him once goodbye. Knowing it would be the last time. You walked out of the embassy in complete and utter shame, and some part inside you screamed that you deserved it.

Javier rescued another witness that day, because he still wanted to do something right even though he didn’t feel right himself.

But then, after sending Guillermo Pallomari to Miami, he had to return to his office. That place he had thought was his fortress, and then it was turned into… a dungeon.

He didn’t ignore your cluttered desk this time; he was alone in the office, there was no one that could say anything of him if he just… looked around.

A steel cup filled with different colored pens and only red markers, a pile of unsigned DEA reports, in one of the drawers a block of sticky notes running low, the same ones you made notes on and stuck on files when you reviewed them and that Javier hated to see because they were just so fucking bright, your red coffee cup you used when you didn’t have time to grab some at his house because he just kept kissing you until you both were late, which didn't happen at your place because Javier always woke up before you and started the coffee machine, a gun holster you hated to use because it just never clutched the way you wanted to your jeans and a small, brown journal he had never seen before and that he took because there wasn’t anyone that could say anything of him if he just… looked around.

He hesitated for a moment to open the journal, unsure of himself or of what he would find. The first page had your initials, your real initials written on the far left corner and just a list of names he didn’t recognize, next a few scribbles and a phone number. Javier skimmed through the pages and around the middle he found his name. Written in your pretty handwriting, with a few numbers underneath that looked dangerously close to file codes.

He snapped the journal closed and left it where he found it. He shouldn’t have looked.

In his office he found all the documents you had risked so much to gather and all the intel you just handed to him, pretty much as he had handed you his heart.

Javier let out a sigh and grabbed the folders, sitting behind the desk and opening the first one.

He re-read every single piece of information until his eyes stung from the exhaustion, or the cigarette smoke, or maybe more unshed tears he was once again fighting so hard to keep inside him.

Tears of sadness, it was a given. But also anger, and frustration and pain, and, as a bucket of freezing cold water, years of regrets fell on him.

Javier had tried, had tried hard to bury all that shit in some far, deep corner of his mind, as he had tried to bury you and all his memories of the last four? five? months. He really did. But at that moment, sheltered inside an office that didn’t feel like his anymore, past midnight, alone and so damn vulnerable, it all rose to the surface and he found himself drowning inside a sea of his own mistakes and past sins.

It was unbearable to stay there. So he grabbed the files that felt like burning in his hands and took off.

And so, Javier went back to an empty apartment that even though had been his for a long time, felt emptier than it had ever felt without you and reminded him only of you.

Why had he allowed his house to become a fucking shrine to the time you had spent there?

Everytime he looked at everything, from the fucking lamp at the corner of the end table to the damn waterbottle you left the last morning you were there on his kitchen counter, an image of you invaded his mind. Like a suffocating wildfire, spreading with the simplest blow of the wind. Covering him, trapping him, burning him and turning him into ashes.

That night he drank almost all the alcohol he had left in his house and even then, with his body full of booze, his intoxicated mind all the time returned to you. To your face, to your eyes and that color that was so common yet somehow looked so unique, to your voice and how you called his name either on a whisper or on a scold, to your smile and how apparently you had one only for him, to your hands and how you used them one night to touch him and the next morning to grip a gun, to how you drove him crazy from the very beginning. Fuck, he loved you. And he hated you all the same.

You gave him your resignation letter, you had left a job you claimed you loved so much that you had taken on something that did you so much wrong. You quit because of what they made you do, and probably, just probably, he had to do the same. Because of what they did to him.

Was it worth it? Everything he did… Was it worth something? Anything?

He thought again of everything he had done in the past decade and felt sick at what his brain was showing him. It really wasn’t.

The idea of doing something good, doing something that could give him a little peace invaded his mind and he spent half the night thinking of something he could do to finally, finally feel like he was helping.

The next morning he found himself sitting in the conference room with Crosby hovering around him. He huffed at himself, sitting there as if there was nothing wrong going around, with the ambassador looking at him with his ever so present judgemental smirk, as if he wasn't just pieces of a man that put himself together with the weakest glue when he got dressed that morning with less than two hours of sleep after being trapped inside his house that smelled like you with nothing but alcohol and time to think. His pop was right, they did something to him in that country. He just didn’t know what.

“Y’know how many times I’ve gotten a call from the Department of Justice and State the same morning?” Crosby rhetored, Javier looked at him, already tired of the lecture he was about to get “count ‘em on one finger, guess we have you to thank for that.”

Javier dropped his eyes to the oak table in front of him and absentmindedly tried to draw a pattern with the tip of his finger while half listening to Crosby telling him about his meeting with the Colombian president to demand that the gentlemen of Cali stayed in jail. He looked back at his boss and after half a second of pondering he told him he had a draft indictment of the president’s ties with the cartel, omitting the part of the story where he had drafted it half drunk the night before. And of course Crosby laughed at it.

Javier huffed again at himself when Crosby suggested he kept the draft to himself and he felt his blood starting to boil. He sighed and fought the urge to stand up and leave. What was he thinking? That a man like Crosby would back up a man like him? Just like that? What a naïve thought.

“The DOJ’s not gonna topple a government, Agent Peña,” the ambassador told him, obviating the statement, Javier felt his chest turn “you can’t tell me you’re surprised by that.”

“Some part of me was holding out hope, I guess.” he muttered to Crosby, who walked around the table and stood next to him, Javier didn’t even bother to hide his face from him, god how tired he was of hiding.

“Well, you should tell that part to grow the fuck up,” Crosby spat and Javier drowned a bitter chuckle “no, I mean it, Agent Peña, you should be happy,” the ambassador said and Javier frowned at the man “you played the system like a goddamn fiddle, you won.”

Javier opened his mouth to rebut the statement but Crosby just walked behind his chair and left the room, leaving him with the word in his mouth.

He felt his stomach toss in disgust, at his boss, at his job, at himself. Fuck that.

“Yes, sir.” he mumbled under his breath.

Did he really win something? The job that helped him escape from everything, the one at some point of his life felt like a dream, had become a nightmare. The woman he grew to love, after years and years of not feeling that, barely got out of there alive and the name he had whispered in extasis wasn’t even hers. Everything he had once believed in was melting away like wax on a candle and being washed away by a sea of regret, desolation and anger.

Did he really win something when he had lost everything? He had even lost himself in the process of what he and everyone around him had called a once in a lifetime opportunity to end a War that was so familiar to him it almost sat at the table on Thanksgiving with him and his dad.

And when he got out of the conference room, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, the idea of following your steps and quit became a lot more attractive to him.

So he went back to his empty home filled with your memories, resigned that he wouldn’t sleep much that night either, and stood in the middle of the living room, not knowing why he felt like a visitor in his own house, chain smoking, thinking about everything just because he wanted to stop thinking about you.

Javier walked to his window and dwindled himself to watch the cars down the street pass, the city was so unaware of everything. The country was so unaware of how it was being torn apart by the same people that were elected to take care of it. And he was so fucking angry, at everything and everyone, at himself. And so tired. Exhausted.

The phone rang behind him and he didn’t even flinch at the sound, even when practically no one called his house phone. He just let the machine get it.

“Hi, Javi, uhm…” he stiffened in place when he heard your voice and turned his head to eye the cradle “I know you probably don’t wanna listen to me right now but…” you sounded small, your voice sounded thin, Javier turned around and walked towards the phone “uhm, I wanted to apologize again and…” he felt like he couldn’t think, his mind was filled with your voice as if it were a fog that clouded his vision, he wanted to pick the phone up, he wanted to ask you where you were and tell you to come home to him, but his brain wasn’t letting him “I–I’m in Washington and I tho–thought…” his eyes closed on themselves when he heard you sigh and choke down a sob “forget it, uhm, I just… fuck…”

Javier looked at the phone, the sound of static still there, he pondered if he should just swallow his anger and his newfound pride and just pick up.

“I think someone will contact you about this and I just wanted to let you know I–I didn’t tell them anything about... us…” he heard you chuckle softly and he just stood there, rolling his hands into fists, waiting for you to say something else, “I’m sorry, Javi, uhm… I really think I did the right thing by telling you, I’m just sorry it had to be like this…” you sniffed on the phone and Javier sighed, “I guess I also wanted, uhm, to hear your voice… shit.” he closed his eyes and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” he said and gripped the receiver when the sound of the cut line replied to him.

Javier threw the receiver on the floor and sat on the couch, cursing at himself for his weakness and his hesitation altogether.

He rested his head on his hands while thinking on the few things you had said, if you were in Washington talking to the directives that meant they didn’t let you resign, that meant they were firing you. And you called him to let him know his involvement was minimal, because still after everything you were trying to divert the backlash from him.

God how he was tired.

That’s when he decided, he was going to do it. Not only for what you had made him feel, but because he just needed to leave back all the baggage he had been carrying with him for almost a decade. He needed to let go. He knew it, he needed to free himself of something that turned him entirely into a different person that wasn't even close to what he had been before, because no one else would do it for him.

And he had nothing else to lose. Absolutely nothing.

Once that thought occupied his mind, he finally could lay down on the couch and sleep.

The next morning Javier just re-dressed and called his journalist contact, he had decided, in his pre-sleep haze, that he was just gonna tell the truth. To everyone.

Just as you did with him, he was going to use all the information you had given to him to redeem yourself of your own baggage to get rid of some of his.

Even when he didn’t want to think of you, you were still helping him.

And the truth went out as he told it, and he let himself out of the whole situation by following your steps.

Until the ambassador called him into his office later that day and that time… Javier felt like he could tell the man absolutely anything.

He had nothing else to lose.

When he walked into the office Crosby was watching the news about his little interview. Javier walked and sat in across from him, feeling something that looked like freedom. But his mind was still reeling with guilt and loss.

“You didn’t really call the country that we’re guests in a narco democracy.” Crosby asked without asking, Javier looked at the man and shook his head once.

“Are you sayin’ that it isn’t?” he replied, looking at the ambassador tightening his jaw.

“The state department’s livid.”

Javier nodded a few times.

“Good, they’re responsible,” he let out and shrugged slightly “we all are.”

“Samper is not going anywhere.” Crosby let him know, quite exasperated. Javier dropped his eyes to the man’s desk.

“Well, at least people know the truth.” he said, including himself in the sentence. No more lies.

Javier saw Crosby shake his head and study the four walls that surrounded them, and he caught himself wanting to read him like you would be able to.

“I want you gone, Peña,” the ambassador told him, Javier guessed so “so do the colombians.”

“I understand, sir.” Javier replied and Crosby said nothing else. He looked at the ambassador for a few seconds and saw also a shell of a man. He guesses that it wasn’t so much the job that took a person’s humanity, but the context in which they do it.

He stood up and walked towards the door.

“You know…” Crosby called, Javier turned around “any aspirations you had for your career just got dragged behind the barn and shot.”

Javier licked his lower lip and allowed himself to look intently at the ambassador, the man looked at him with something he thought was pity.

“I resigned from the DEA this morning.”

Crosby stood up straighter when he heard it, Javier said it almost solemnly, and saying it out loud not only made it more real, but it really made him feel light as a feather for the first time since he was a teenager when he walked out of the ambassador’s office for the last time in his life.

←previous // next→

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corpsentry · 4 years ago

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january: an art retrospective

i did some stuff last month (but it’s a lot of stuff and there’s a photodump + some Serious Fucking Reflection, so it’s all below the cut)

so ok, let’s start with this. here are some heads. each head has a red arrow. that red arrow is what i call the red line of the devil. it’s the slope of the face from the side of the eye to the cheekbone and then down towards the chin. up until like 2 weeks ago, i couldn’t draw it. i couldn’t fucking draw it. i would edit over that part of the face over and over again until i was frustrated and tired and i had a raging homosexual headache and it still never looked right. notice that each head is different. notice that each head looks wrong.

at the start of 2021 i finally admitted to myself, as per the image above, that i was deeply, deeply unhappy with my art. what was the problem? i dunno. but i decided i was going to fix it and i was going to do so via another one scribble a day event wherein for every day of january i would find a photo of a human head, and i would draw it.

january 1st, 2021. i was embarrassed to tweet this even on my private account where like 5 friends and a rock would see it. in retrospect, you can also see all of my bad habits emerging like dicks from a hole in the ground. it’s disproportionate. the brows look flat. the eyes are slanting upwards. the entire drawing looks flat, like this isn’t a 3d person but a caricature of one.

january 2nd, 3rd, 4th:

on the 2nd i decided to start a separate thread for doodles and applied learning. here’s the first set of tests

the rest of the week is kind of uneventful so we’re going to skip those. fast forward to january 11th

this one is especially bad. i am acutely aware, suddenly, that i am not changing anything at all. i’m stressed and miserable about it because i’m still trying to see people as people and trying to draw people that look attractive and proportionate and hot. my friend, leny, reminds me that i need to think about faces in terms of planes. i have a moment. my other friend masha sends me some links to anatomy tutorials. i have another moment.

january 11th. applied sketch

january 13th is when i start the troubleshooting process. the link above drives me mad because i’m pretty happy with the face but then i realize that there’s something very fucking wrong with the shape of the head LOL and then i realize that i’ve never had any idea what the proportion of the face to the rest of the skull is so i grit my teeth and i open a new canvas and i

bald studies. it seemed like the right thing to do. can’t draw heads? ok draw some heads. look at some photographs. i traced each photo but tried to stick to straight lines so that i could replicate the shapes more easily. i broke each face down into shapes. i thought about airplanes

i got really excited. i started doing studies, then applied studies, then stylized studies.

sketches. i’m not sure what’s going on (as always) and it’s very rough, but they look different from the sketches i did on january 2nd. that’s a start

january 16th’s daily study. looks more like a person now. juuuuuust a bit

more applied studies

on the 18th i take a break and go stare at some lips because i don’t understand how the fuck they work. again, i focus on shapes, on volume, on the fact that these things exist in 3d. holy fuck lips exist in 3d. holy fuck we are real

january 19th. i’m working on it.

january 22nd. some sketches + a daily study. it has finally occurred to me that heads can tilt up and down and that things look different accordingly. yes i was not aware of this before. yes i have been drawing for over a decade.

january 23rd. by this point after doing my daily sketch i almost always go back and do an applied study which is basically to say i drew a lot of fucking links. this one looks kind of okay. i’m kind of proud

january 25th. links. trying to make sense of everything i’ve learned

26th, 27th, 28th. daily studies

january 1st. january 31st

The End Of The Photo Dump (dab)

ok NOW i get to talk about what i discovered while studying the shit out of human beings

FIRST OF ALL, there is something precious and magical about drawing shit without the explicit knowledge that you’re going to tweet that shit out to 45 people later. it takes the burden of perception off your shoulders and that does something to you, or at least that’s my theory. i told myself i wouldn’t post any of this stuff until the end of the month (if i wanted to post it at all) and kept everything off my public social media accounts and that meant i could draw ugly as hell without worrying about who would point and laugh, which i absolutely fucking did. a lot of these are fucking trainwrecks. most of these are fucking trainwrecks. why do they look like that?? why??? this doesn’t look like the work of someone who’s allegedly been drawing since they were in kindergarten, does it?????

here’s why: because that person took a huge motherfucking swing at everything they’d ever known about art and spent a month building something new in its place. the abstract explanation is that i grew up on shoujo and weird old anime and my understanding of anatomy was unironically kamichama karin and while i love kamichama karin, when kamichama karin is your rule even if you try to break it, you’re going to end up going nowhere. “you have to know the rules to break them”, yeah? well i didn’t know shit. the abstract explanation is i’ve been miserable about my art for a few years now because i saw other people doing things effortlessly which i couldn’t and instead of going back to the basics, i tried to do what they did (not plagiarism, mind you, i mean i literally tried to copy the red line of the devil i mentioned above because i couldn’t even make that happen) and then i fucking failed.

the simple explanation is this. i had to unlearn everything, and relearn it again (like some kind of new renaissance clown, what the fuck is this?)

take this for example. all my life i’ve drawn faces in the order: eyes, nose, mouth, face shape, head. this works for some people, im aware, but it was something central to how i had always drawn, so i decentralized it. i said fuck you to the old me and changed the order up. now i start with the nose, then the eyes, mouth, the chin line, and the sides of the face. now i force myself to think about the human head as a series of parts interacting with each other instead of a bunch of disparate features which i want to look pretty.

or let’s use this zelda from last year. something about this looked wrong last october, the way something about all of my drawings looked wrong, but i couldn’t pinpoint it for hell the way i couldn’t articulate Any of my feelings about the visual arts. now, looking back, here’s what i see. that nose is sticking out far too much given how she’s not really facing very far away from the camera. that ear at the back shouldn’t be there. her forehead is too big. she doesn’t have a forehead. what the fuck is up with the shape of her head?

so apparently reject modernity embrace tradition has its roots in alt-right terminology and i’m not very horny for the alt-right (you understand), but the spirit survives here. you know sometimes you have to admit that you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing and draw people for 31 days. i’ve spent my whole life drawing stylized people and while again there are artists who have no issue with this, i veered off the track of the Good and the Holy and couldn’t get back on. i had no point of reference because i’d never thought about what an actual human being looks like, so i had no way to fix what i knew in my gut looked wrong but wouldn’t come out better.

this was hard. this was like oikawa tooru swallowing his worthless pride and admitting that ushijima wakatoshi had gotten the best of him for the last time in his high school career, but in haikyuu!! by furudate haruichi oikawa tooru fucks off to argentina and then joins the argentinean national team, and you know what, i think i’ve made it to argentina (not the team just the country). as per the golden rule of dont fucking move until you’re at least two thirds of the way through the month, i only started trying to draw Shit shit on like the 22nd or something, but i was happy with that i created. i am happy with what i’ve done. i’ve posted like 2 things this month that involve people with what i now call ~applied Knowledge~~ and they’re, like, not perfect obviously (perfection is an unattainable ideal), but i’m fucking proud of them. i didn’t spend 5 hours hunched over my laptop adjusting the red line of the devil because it’s not a devil’s line anymore. because i finally sorta get how people work. because i sat down and i said ‘we are not going to fuck with this misery shit anymore’ and then i did that. it’s just a line now.

here are 2 collages tracking my painstakingly carved out progress from january 2nd to february 2nd because i’m a slut for collages

and here’s what i’ve done to my art! the same person drew these but also Not Really! you know! for the first time in a year i don’t immediately hate what i’ve drawn. you know what guys? art is fucking fun. zelda’s forehead doesn’t scare me anymore because i know how foreheads fucking work now, and i don’t know everything, and i’m going to keep troubleshooting stuff as i go (i want to draw a skeleton. like a. i want to draw a goddamn skeleton guys) but i’m honestly and genuinely proud of what i’ve done in the span of a month, and i’m also in disbelief. i started this month-long challenge out as a last ditch effort to make peace with my art because i’ve been tired for a long time and i was ready to kick the bucket on drawing people altogether. i didn’t think anything would happen. nothing’s happened for years. i’ve been miserable for years.

this was the caption for january 1st, 2021. i was super, super fucking embarrassed and it looks like super fucking shit, but you know what, i think i did in fact triumph over the bullshit. surprisingly enough, when you put in consistent effort into something, You Will See Results. didn’t see that coming, did you? i know i didn’t.

this isn’t a success story. it’s a happiness story. i never gave a shit damn about the institute of art or whatever, i was just mad at myself because what i saw in my head didn’t match up with what was on the canvas. and now it’s getting better. now i’m calibrating the compass. now drawing not just backgrounds but also people is exciting to me, and i can stick my links in your face and tell you ‘they hot’. i’m going to keep doing that. i’m going to keep going until i drop off the side of the earth and then spiral towards mars like some kind of fairy, and then i’m going to create something beautiful.

thanks for reading. here’s a pr department link for sticking around until the end

#my stuff

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shadowturtlesstuff · 4 years ago

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invisible duckling

hi!! im alive, slowly working of fics still. i havent been writing as much as i want to but my brain is honsetly tired, but i have this cressworth (obvioulsy) that started as an invisible string based one, but becuase @fangirling-again has been pestering me about writing one about adopting ducks the ideas merged. somehow. the title is also her idea

(also im working my way through acosf so ill be online more frequently very soon!)

“We aren’t leaving the bed,my love.” I murmur as I feel Audrey Rose sit up and our cat move from his spot at the end of the bed to her lap. “We are staying like this forever.” I roll onto my side, careful not to brush against her leg. Her laugh caresses my skin as she lazily strokes our cat. I would happily stay in bed with the women I love and our son for the rest of my life, perhaps we can both get some more sleep that way.

We’d gone to bed earlier than planned due to the amount of things we needed to get done today but our son decided he needed our attention and who was I to deny his wants. Sir Issac had sat on my chest as I layed and stroked him long into the night whilst talking to my beloved. Audrey Rose had rolled her eyes at me when I had told her he can stay in the middle of us so we can hug him all night long. I was content stroking him until my eyes had grown tired and I could barely stay awake, but he had just meowed until I continued stroking him. It had led Audrey Rose to face me and tell me that is exactly how I act when I don't get enough attention.

“As wonderful as that sounds, we need to leave at some point,” she tells me and I whine about my discomfort. The bed was warm, safe and didn’t involve dealing with people I wished not to deal with. Again her laugh fills the room and I open my eyes to find her face half concentrated on me and the other on our demanding son. I may have taught him too well.

“Remind me what we’re doing today so I can come up with valid reasons as to why we shouldn’t.” sir issac moves from audrey’s lap to sit right in front of my face, brushing his head against my own. I nuzzle against before I sit up and pull him into my lap. I fear the day when we get our second cat and sir isaac gets jealous of the attention we give it and not him.

“We are not getting another cat thomas,” she tells me and gives me the look that tells me she saw my thoughts on my face. We shall give sir isaac a sibling but I'll concede this argument for now. So I scowl at her and then rest my head on her shoulder. She sighs as she steals my hand and entwines our fingers. “We have to meet Dacinia at the restaurant near cornelia street. She has news for us, then my aunt wants to meet with me for an hour or so then uncle wants us in his office the rest of the day. Our case, it seems, has new leads that he is dealing with alone today but will fill us in and make plans for tomorrow.”

It has been months since we saw my sister and I've been excited since we got the letter she will be in town. We are visiting my favourite restaurant, the archer. We used to go as kids with our mother before she died. I have been meaning to take Audrey Rose but our lives are filled that we barely have time to do anything together like that. As soon as we are able, I'm bringing her to Romania to have a long overdue holiday. “Have you ever been in the archer, my love?” I ask just to keep her by my side a little while longer. Our grip tightens slightly and I know she knows my intentions behind the question. She always figures out how my mind works even when I do not understand it. Just as I do for her.

“I have, many times. My mother would take us all and we’d have dinner there once a month.” I trace shapes on the back of her hand, it shocks me to think we frequented the same place, for nearly the same reason for so long without knowing. There must be more times our lives have crossed without either of us knowing.

“It is a bizarre and wondrous thought that you were a part of my life, in ways i didn’t know, and now you are the most treasured thing. It is like we were pulling on a string, leading us to each other.” We are both silent, contemplating where else we may have crossed paths when she snorts loudly.

“It is absurd how put together that thought was when you have spent the entire morning whining at me,” her hand rests on my face as we smile widely at each other, “yet it is nice to consider that all our actions, all the mistakes and choices have led us to each other. Like an invisible string of sorts, that tied us to each other.”

“I'd go through all the hell again if it led me to you.” I tell her as she leans in and kisses me. I pull her atop of me now that our cat has lept of the bed, most likely to get us to give him food. We kiss, holding onto this moment before life crashes down on us. She pulls back, her smile blooming on her face and her face flush. It is a sight I wish I could witness forever.

“It is crazier to think our actions now are leading us to another cat.” I give her my most charming grin as she rolls her eyes but smiles at the thought of us having another cat. Slowly I am convincing her we should adopt another cat.

“It is crazy,” she begins, rolling off me despite me trying to hold her to me, “that a grown adult whines like a child every morning about leaving his bed.” Audrey Rose moves towards our desk to get her cane and my eyes are transfixed on the sight of her. Her hair is in a state, messy due to her not being a still sleeper, but she looks adorable. Her face still wears the smile that makes my heart flutter and her dazzling green eyes are bright as she faces me again with her eyebrows raised to challenge me into a retort.

“It is utterly crazy, that a man would want to spend all day in bed with the women he loves.” Finally I sit up as she walks back towards me, her face filled with emotions I cannot read through. She kisses me deeply and then rests her head on mine. Her hand rests on my cheek, her hands warm.

“I too, would go through all that hell, I would search for that string forever if it led to you, my love.” she whispers against my skin and I swear my heart either reaches out to hug her itself or explodes. I marvel at the women in front of me, of all the pieces of information about her I have discovered and all I am yet to discover and smile. “I want to stay in bed too, but we are adults Thomas, people relying on us. Soon, though, we will stay in bed all day.”

We stay like that, stealing kisses for a few minutes before we tear ourselves away from each other. The string we have between us loosens but as we go about our morning routine we always find our way back to each other.

~~~

“You little beast.” I hear Audrey rose hiss as she tries to carry a tray of food into the dining hall for us. I laugh and get up to help her, taking sir Issac in my hand so she has a clear path.

“This is why, my love, we are not getting another little pest.” she glares at the cat who meows back, seemingly aware of how much he has annoyed her. I sat him down on the chair beside mine and sat, helping Audrey Rose set the food.

“But if we were to get another cat, our son, not a pest or beast, will be occupied.” I try to convince her as best as I can. “Or we could get a dog, or perhaps even a duck-”

Audrey rose starts laughing, “A,” she tries to speak but cannot get enough air to do so. “A duck?” She breathes out finally and I roll my eyes. It was not my best suggestion, but if i can find any way to get another cat I shall.

“What is wrong with ducks?” as muster as much confidence in my voice as i can and that makes her laugh more. The laugh that fills the room with how genuine and adorable it is and I can't help my own laugh escaping. It's a tad absurd even for me.

She reaches out for my hand, trying to master her features into a serious look. She fails miserably but I take her hand in mine and rub circles on the back of her hand. “Thomas. Know that I love you. And care about you a lot. But have you hit your head today because honestly a du-”

“There was nothing wrong with my suggestion? What has a duck ever done to you?” I interject, both of us trying not to laugh.

“Nothing, because ducks are not pets and we aren't getting one either.” I glare at her as sir Issac climbs onto my lap. I tear my gaze away and pick him up so we are face to face. He scratches at my shoulder and tries to rub his head against my hand. I glance back to find Audrey Rose's face still smiling at my ridiculous actions. The smile that would make me do anything ridiculous just to see again, the smile I try and seek every day, more intoxicating than any drink.

“Son,” I say in a voice parents usually give their toddlers, “how would you like a duck as your brother and sister?” he meows at me so I take that as a yes. Audrey rose is shaking her head as she begins to eat her food, seeming to try to end this conversation. “That settles it, tomorrow I shall inquire about adopting a duck.” i had no idea how i was going to do it, or how i would later convince her to get another cat, as that was my main goal, but now i felt as though i had to get a duck. She rolls her eyes at me as I set sir Isaac down on my lap.

“Do not inquire about a duck Thomas.”

“Why? You said you didn't want a cat, and you heard our son, very lonely, so it seems to be the only plausible solution.”

“Thomas, do not inquire about a duck. Ducks are not pets. How would we even care for a duck? Why are we even considering getting ducks as a pet?”

“Consider this my love,” I try and be as normal as possible, try not to smile as i see her do the same, “we could buy it a little bucket to swim in or another bath with a little ladder,”

She shakes her head at me, our food long forgotten. It had been a tiring day for us, with a lot of walking, and when we'd gotten home she collapsed onto the sofa in our bedroom. So this conversation as silly as it is, is somehow needed for us both. “Why would the duck need a ladder?”

“To climb into the bath. It will be cute! The duck has little floppy feet. Oh! And we get make a tiny hut for our son here and the duck to cuddle in and we can have it next to our bed-”

“So at night we can hear both animals and never get any sleep? Thomas this is-” she once again shakes her head at me. “Madness. Utterly crazy. Are you sure you haven’t hit your head. I can call uncle over to double check.” We sit in silence, staring at each other for a second until we both lose it and start laughing.

“Would it not be adorable to have sir Isaac on your lap, with ducks on your shoulder and head?”

“Ducks? A second ago it was one singular duck, now you want multiple?”

“The duck has to have a friend.”

“The cat is to be its friend. If you get more ducks than sir Issac still is lonely as you like to claim he is.” as if in answer sir Isaac appears at her side, jumping onto her lap. She scowls at him but stokes his back. “Pest. you need to stop listening to your father, he is a bad influence.” our eyes meet and she smiles at me as I begin eating my own food finally. I can see the exhaustion in her eyes even as she smiles at our cat.

“Imagine love, we have our cat, a duck and a child. All under this roof. I did promise a lifetime full of surprises, with all of those in the equation we’d never have a dull moment.” her eyes soften as the mention of a child. We both wanted one, had discussed it, but as of right now it wasn’t the time. Yet I can picture a tiny Cressworth child, my charm and her wit, playing with sir Issac and our second cat. Even a duck.

“That sounds wonderful. Tiring, but perfect for us.” I stand from my chair and walk around to her side of the table. Her hand finds mine instantly as I lean in for a kiss. She deepens it, her body twisting slightly and her other hand on my chest. I may never get used to the thrill of kissing her, of feeling her love for me. I nestle my hand in her hair, pulling out the pins keeping it up. We pull apart as her hair falls down past her shoulder, her emerald eyes dazzling at me. “I love you,” she whispers, her breath coming out in pants. Sir Issac nudged her and she pulled her eyes away from me as he kept nudging her, demanding her attention be on him. I laugh as she scratches behind his eyes.

“This is perfect too.” I tell her as I offer my hand to lead her up to bed. I will get her settled then return with cake, both of us needed a treat. I could feel my own exhaustion settling in as she took my hand and we made our way upstairs, sir Issac following us and jumping atop our bed and taking over my spot. Wadsworth glances at me, a knowing look on her face. One telling me: ‘you still want another one?’ to which I give her my own smirk telling her yes and kiss her before she can start to tell me no again. I kiss her again one more time before I leave to get us cake.

@fangirling-again @goatahoan @kittycat2187 @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @purplecreatorhorsewagon @padfoot-sirius-black-blog @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie

#cressworth #sjtr #stalking jack the ripper #hpd #hunting prince dracula #efh #escaping from houdini #ctd #capturing the devil #thomas cresswell #audrey rose

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years ago

Text

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! If you don’t want to see these you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories, whether it be for bad things happen bingo or any of the other series, one shots or in general!

Requested via AO3 comment.

General Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi

Rage Against the Machine

Summary: The door at the end of the hall has been locked tight for some time now and things seemed to have finally calmed down. Truly, that's where their first concern should have been (Happy Ending)

Warnings: food mention, maggot mention, mild swearing, somewhat disturbing imagery provided by Remus, strangulation, bruising, violence (if there are more please let me know)

Prompt: Lifted by the Neck

Ships: Intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 3566

Before you read! This work is a direct sequel to Faulty Logic; I would recommend reading that first if you haven’t to understand the context of this story!

“So we’re just leaving him locked in his room? Seriously?” Thomas looked around at all of them, utterly confused by the decision they had made. Patton sat with him on the couch wringing his hands nervously while Roman sat on his other side, his lips pressed together in thought. Logan and Remus occupied the whole of the loveseat adjacent from them while Virgil was sprawled on the stairs. Janus nodded from his seat in front of the T.V., a chair conjured up in front of it in an attempt to actually hold their manifestors attention.

It was a couple of days after the incident, most everyone wanting to let things calm down at least a bit before taking the situation to Thomas though they all knew it would have to be done sooner rather than later. Rage had been as secured in his room as he could be, now that Thomas knew about him and had at least put a name to his function there wasn't much he could do to get out of having a physical form, making the boards they had nailed to the outside of his door and the chains they ran and secured through a thick lock adequate protection for everyone else's security. Unless he figured out a way to force the door down through brute strength alone, which Janus was very doubtful he'd be able to do, they would be safe for now; a thought which put most of their minds at ease though Logan was understandably still a bit shaken and had taken to hanging out in Remus’ room more often than not, the sight of the hefty morning star and various other weapons throughout the room putting his mind at ease that he wouldn't be so easily taken a second time. Yes, he had told the others, he was there for his own peace of mind and no other reason.

Though if he was leaning more heavily on Remus from his place on the couch, the Duke having an arm thrown over the back of the couch to just barely brush the back of his shoulder, no one said anything. Janus merely rolled his eyes at the display before turning his attention back to Thomas. "Though it certainly isn't the most elegant solution, it will work for now, giving us the time to talk you through things and prepare you as much as possible before you meet him and actively try to work things out with him."

"I just don't-" Thomas dragged a hand over his face and gestured to Logan. "He was locked in a cage! And told he was useless! i don't think that I- Logan I don't think like that."

Logan smiled thinly at Thomas and sat up a bit straighter. "I know Thomas. What was said and done wasn't the result of some underlying goal that you secretly wanted to have happen. It just so happens that Logic is a fairly versatile tool when used to overcome certain negativities in your mind, so I was the first to be targeted as a result."

"But I-"

"Thomas." Logan cut off patiently. "I assure you- I am shaken but unharmed. Best to discuss what we can do moving forward rather than what we could have done. I don't hold it against you, so don't hold it against yourself."

Thomas ran a hand through his hair slowly, looking as if he still wanted to argue but didn't want to risk upsetting Logan by bringing it up further. Deciding to concede for now he turned to Janus who was waiting patiently for the conversation to move to something more productive. "Okay. I...okay. Janus?"

"Yes, Thomas?"

"What do we do now? How can I- I'm not...Janus am I secretly a violent person?"

Janus' eyes blew wide. "Thomas what- no. Why is it that everytime you learn you have a less than favorable trait- actually we’ll table that for another time. Considering just how often it is that you attempt to maul anyone who so much as looks at you funny speaks for itself I should think."

"So why is Rage so violent then? And why do I even have a side dedicated to anger? It doesn't seem like that would be something that would ever help me."

"Rage is..." Janus screwed his mouth to one side trying to think of how to explain it without causing more trouble. "He's not violent...usually. In that he isn't going to always take every opportunity to attack someone or influence others into shouting matches they wouldn't otherwise get in. Anger, as an emotion in and of itself, is a response to something you find unfair or unjust. Whether the belief is founded or not, anger is a part of you that rises up when you feel you have been unfairly treated, or something or someone you care for has been unfairly treated."

"It's like fear," Virgil piped up with a quick glance to Janus. "It's a part of you that responds to your surroundings and makes you aware of how they're affecting you. Anger is a part of you that cares for you and wants you to see the possibility that things could stand to be better for you or those around you."

"Exactly, thank you Virgil." Janus smiled at the anxious side who only nodded and went back to fiddling with his hoodie strings. "It's usually not something that's an inherently bad thing to have unless you frequently find yourself blowing up at even the smallest inconvenience. Like most things it's good in moderation."

"So then why is Rage such a..."

"Raging dick?" Remus helpfully supplied.

"Language.' Patton chided quietly.

"Oh stick it up yours, Morality."

"Remus." Janus warned, effectively shutting up the intrusive side. "But yes, your anger, Rage, acts the way he does for much the same reasons that Remus acts the way he does. He's been suppressed."

"But I didn't know I was suppressing him!"

"Just like you didn't know you were suppressing Remus. Rage works the same way. He gets pent up and bored and then frustrated that he isn't being acknowledged. Which again, he wasn't acknowledged for the same reasons as Remus. You didn't want to see him, so I hid him away. Anger isn't a bad thing in moderation, but to deny you have it at all is almost as detrimental as letting it out too much."

"It's my fault again, kiddo. Part of being a good person, in my mind, is having patience and understanding." Patton hung his head. "I thought that meant it would be better if you just didn't react then...when things made you mad."

"Everyone loves a martyr Patton truly." Patton's head snapped up, hurt flashing across his face.

"That is to say, it isn't solely your fault." Janus quickly amended. "I also had a part in it, as did Virgil and even Logan to an extent. Now isn't the time to see who can carry the most blame, we're trying to get Thomas to understand what went wrong and how we can fix it."

"But how can we fix it? I know I get angry; I was angry about the wedding, I get frustrated when I don't meet my deadlines or something happens that prevents me from doing the things I want. I even swear at traffic jams. What more am I supposed to do?" Thomas looked from Patton to Janus and back and then desperately at everyone else when no one spoke up. He just wasn't an angry person, there were always going to be obstacles preventing him from doing things or some unfair policy that made it more difficult for his friends to do something which was always upsetting. How much more angry did he have to be to satisfy a side he had never met?

"I think," Roman spoke up. "that just letting yourself feel the full extent of it more often would help. Acknowledge it and actively work to fix whatever it is that's making you frustrated would probably be a good start. You're a very passive person Thomas and while in theory that's a very good thing to be, well..."

He gestured to Remus. "No offence but it doesn't always have the best result. You just let things sit and fester, believing that any slip up is a moral failure on your part, and it makes you miserable- whether subconsciously or not. I love you Thomas, and will always fight for you, but there are some battles you have to lose to come out the other side."

"We're not saying you have to start kicking puppies and beating kids." Remus ignored Patton's pained gasp and held Thomas' gaze. "Just like- get a punching pillow or something. Or walk away and scream. All you do is push everything down when you get too full. But eventually you're going to have to take the trash out, and I think you'd rather deal with three day old stinking onion cuts than maggot filled meat."

"I- okay yeah I get it. Thank you Remus." Shaking the image from his head, Thomas nodded and looked back to Janus. "Do you think starting to do that would calm him down enough that he'd eventually listen if we summoned him up?"

"Hard to say. I don't think it should happen for a while yet anyway; letting him tire himself out before we start trying to work with him might be the best course of action. I had definitely realized just how physical he was willing to be to get the acknowledgement. Absolutely no tact but really he comes from you so I don't know what I was expecting." Janus winked letting Thomas know he was only kidding, making their manifestor roll his eyes and sigh deeply.

"So all we can do is wait and see then?"

"Essentially yes. We'll keep watch over his room to make sure he doesn't come after one of us again and when the time comes to call him up we'll have to make sure proper precautions are taken so we're all safe when doing so, but there isn't any harm that I can see in letting him throw himself against the walls for a bit. Rather amusing to see him get so riled up after lurking in your subconscious for years, only coming out occasionally to nudge one of us into conflict like a child tugging the tail of a dog." Janus smiled at Thomas. "For as violent and scary as he is, at his core he only wants to protect and fight for you, even if his methods can be immature at the best of times. You are and always will be in charge when it comes to us. Once you understand that he has as much influence over you as you let him he’ll be much easier to communicate with, and we all trust you that you will never let it go too far."

They all nodded in agreement as Patton spoke up. "You are a good person Thomas. Having anger and intrusive thoughts or telling lies- those are things everyone deals with. It's how you choose to let them influence you that makes the difference. As long as you realise when you've let things go too far and work to fix where you've gone wrong, well- that’s all anyone can ask for."

"Thank you, Patton." Thomas smiled as the fatherly aspect squeezed his knee affectionately and stood, stretching before placing his hands on his hips.

"Welp," He glanced around. "It's getting pretty late, and we have work to do tomorrow so I think we'd all benefit from a good night's rest."

"Agreed. We can better address this in the morning when we can put together-" Logan shuffled through a few notecards. "...a game plan. As much as I would love to have this resolved sooner rather than later we have other responsibilities that need our attention."

"Just remember what we discussed here moving forward," Janus suggested as he stood and snapped away the chair. "and we'll have a much easier time handling Rage when the time comes to do so."

"I will. Just- be careful. I don't want anyone hurt because I can't seem to handle negativity."

"We're imaginary Thomas, it's almost impossible for us to actually be hurt." So saying Roman sunk out, quickly followed by Patton after giving Thomas one last reassuring smile.

"You got this." Virgil gave a two fingered salute before sinking out himself, making him smile as he watched Logan nod and sink out with Remus.

"Thank you again, Janus." Thomas turned to the only side left in the room.

"As much as I'd love to take all the credit, I'm hardly deserving of thanks. I'm just one side, guiding you through your constant moral dilemmas as you question yourself as a person; truly not as big a deal as it seems." Janus sniffed as he tugged at his glove, smirking as Thomas waved him off playfully.

"Alright, alright. Get out before I decide to bring something else up I've been suppressing since childhood."

"If only you knew." Janus mumbled as he sunk out, coming up in the hall where all of their doors were located and looking to the one at the end covered in boards and chains. Seeing nothing amiss he turned on his heel and made his way to his own room across the hall, content in his belief that everything, for now at least, was fine.

-----

The hallway had been suspiciously quiet for a while now- a week to be precise. Janus tested the chains occasionally, careful not to make any noise so the room's occupant wouldn't be suspicious of anything going on outside their confinement. Through all his caution and constant checking and even Remus and Virgil's fussing over what might need to be added to keep the door more secure the room stayed stubbornly silent. It wasn't a bad thing per se, it might mean that maybe Rage was calming a bit since Thomas actually had been taking the time to acknowledge and let out his feelings however and whenever he could, usually through a good vent to one of them or a close friend.

Later, much too late for him to do anything about it, Janus would realize that's where he went wrong. They had all become complacent, assured in their safety with Thomas taking the proper steps on his part and the heavy chains on the door putting all of their minds at ease that for now, everything was okay. Even Virgil began to feel as if things were relatively safe, only occasionally venturing far enough down the hall to make sure things truly were. None of them stuck around long enough to hear the careful scratching on the other side of the door, evidence of which was hidden by the thick boards nailed over it, large gouges and holes gradually growing bigger to weaken the door as much as possible without anyone being any the wiser from the other side. Janus kicked himself for not expecting it, so used to Rage being brash and heavy handed in everything he did that he didn't expect him to do much more than relentlessly throw himself against the door until he was forced to simply sit and wait his sentence out.

So when Logan felt brave enough to check the door himself- read that as when Remus let Logan out of his sight long enough for him to check the door himself- Janus should have been expecting the sound of splintering wood and chains being whipped against the wall. He should have expected the short lived shriek followed by the dull thumping sound of a body hitting a wall or floor. He should have expected it so he could react better- faster. But as it was by the time he had burst from his room, staff fully extended and hat flying off behind him as he ran to the scene, Logan was already in the air, legs kicking as hard as he could against the side that held him by the neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh where bruises were already forming from the harsh treatment.

"Remus!" Janus' scream threw the other dark side off for just a second, but it was enough for him to slam into him heavily, catching Logan's waist with the crook of his staff and using the momentum to swing him into Remus as he pinned Rage to the ground. He was only just able to confirm that Remus had caught their logical side and was carrying him away before he was violently bucked off the one he had pinned, getting a fist slammed into the side of his head as he was tossed aside like a ragdoll. He rolled to his feet despite the black spots dancing in his vision before they engulfed his vision completely, causing mild panic before he heard Virgil's echoing voice booming through the darkness.

"Get him up, Remus, make sure Thomas is blocking him!" Janus braced himself as a wave of pure, unfiltered fear crashed over him, gritting his teeth against the screaming darkness and hanging onto his staff for dear life as it passed him over him in favor of its actual target.

"Janus?" He felt Virgil's shaking hand brush his arm and he immediately grabbed it in his, squeezing gently to let the anxious side know he was there. "Go up with them, I can handle him."

"Like hell." Janus growled and pulled him a bit closer, eyes finally adjusting as he brought his staff to rest in front of them both. He saw Virgil's eyes flash brightly but he held his gaze firmly until the other huffed and faced forward.

"Fine, but I'm only saving your ass once." They watched as Rage stumbled to his feet, cracks appearing in the floor underneath him and flaring a warning in bright orange. Shadows still licked at the edges but fizzled out as they got too close, making Virgil growl in annoyance beside him. Janus stepped forward as the cracks grew bigger, scales glowing bright yellow through the darkness themselves, determined to protect his family- Rage included- for as long as he could.

-----

"Hey Lolo." Logan winced as he cracked his eyes open, mouth parting to speak but all that escaped was a thin whine as his throat flared with pain. "No no no, don't try to talk! Here, this will help."

Something soft and featherlight was placed across his neck and then a light, cold pressure was applied, instantly making him close his eyes and sigh with relief. The pain mostly calm he now noticed he was laying on a rather lumpy surface- most likely the couch- and that his head was being cradled on something warm and squishy. Opening his eyes once more he was able to focus on the fact that Remus' head was directly above his own and quite close, which meant he was being held in his lap, on Thomas' couch, with Remus looking at him with eyes so full of concern it made him want to cry if he wasn't certain that would make his throat swell.

"We'll do this and then see if you can swallow some tylenol to get the swelling and pain down and then- Logan? Am I hurting you? Are you uncomfortable? Do you want me to call someone else up to-"

Logan reached up quickly, wincing slightly with the movement but managing to lay a careful hand on Remus' cheek. He really wasn't able to speak but he was hoping his thanks was conveyed through eye contact as he smiled gently at the other. Remus gave him a small yet loving smile as he brought his other hand to Logan's and turned his head, kissing the palm lightly. "Fucking asshole. You're so smart but you pick the dumbest times to be out of sight."

Logan huffed through his nose and flicked the Duke's playfully, getting a quiet laugh in response as he lifted the ice pack and readjusted it so it covered more of the bruising. "Thought I was gonna come out and you'd be stuffed in a cage again and beaten this time or strung up and hogtied or-"

Logan tapped his cheek sharply to stop the spiral. He was far too hot despite the ice pack and he knew he was smiling quite stupidly up at the other side even though tears were streaming down his face and he wished more than anything he could just speak-

"I love you so much, Logan. As soon as you heal I'm kicking your ass for scaring all of us." Remus swept his hair out of his eyes before resting his hand on his cheek. "We'll take care of it though, and we'll take care of you and everything will be fine."

Logan made to reach up again, a question in his eyes but Remus beat him to it. "And before you ask: Virgil and Janus have done this...too many times; believe me when I say they're fine. Thomas, Roman and Patton are right in the kitchen. Everything's fine, just rest for now."

Dropping his hand to the one on his cheek, Logan would take a ridiculous amount of time to admit he snuggled in further on the Duke's lap, content for now that everything was fine.

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dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 3 years ago

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TPWP Introspective

Hey guys!! So, as you noticed, there was no update today either, like I had commented that I may try and do if possible. The reason I didn’t post today, though, is because I remembered that I wrote a little introspective thing about TPWP a few days ago that I wanted to post before the next chapter, if possible. I spent the last hour and a half intermittently touching it up (while also talking to friends, ha). I wrote this after waking up at five in the morning and not being able to go back to sleep, so I was fairly tired and rambley when writing it, ha.

Anyway, this is pretty long discussion about something that’s bugged me about TPWP for a little while, which is why I’ve made Taka so sexual despite not really thinking he would be like that in canon. In my attempt to write about that, my exhausted self also went into another problem I have with TPWP, which is the fact that neither Taka nor Mondo are really like their canon selves anymore. And while that was a purposeful thing, I never could pinpoint why, and I think I managed to in this post, so there’s that, ha.

Now, it’s getting late and I’m very tired, so I’ll add my introspective thingy in a read more. It’s about 5k words and goes over a lot about Taka and Mondo’s interpretation in TPWP.

Hey all! So, I wanted to go over something that’s been bugging me for a while in TPWP, though no one else seems annoyed by it. But I kind of am, so I just wanted to… I don’t know. Discuss it in case anyone else also has problems with it, but just isn’t bringing it up in comments. And the thing that I wanted to talk about is the fact that I’ve made Taka and Mondo so sexual in this story, despite this not really striking me as something Taka, in particular, would be like. In order to discuss all that, though, I have to go through a bunch of other explanations about what my main goal in this story has always been, as a kind of backstory. So, buckle up, my friends. This is a doozy.

See, while I didn’t have much of an idea when I started writing, the one thing I knew I wanted to play around with was the idea of dismantling Taka and everything that makes him tick. In the game, he is shown as a strict, passionate, highly motivated character, spending so much time studying and trying to better himself that he lost sight of who he is other than that. He doesn’t have friends and confesses to Makoto that he doesn’t even understand how people make friends through connecting over things like television, since he’s so detached from anything other than his goals. The writers even comment on how he is almost mad with his passion and righteousness.

That whole persona seems so unattainable to me. I’m someone who seeks ‘perfection,’ right? I’m a perfectionist and it burns me so much to know that no matter what I do, there will always, ALWAYS be faults in the things I create. I put myself and my creations against others and always find myself lacking. It burns me and makes me feel so… I don’t even know. Unhappy. Upset. Things like that. And I’ve gotten much better with this over the years, right? I accept that my work will not be perfect, and that anything I can create is enough since I created it and I enjoyed creating it. But the feeling is still there. The unhappiness. The discontent.

So, when I saw Taka and his madness to become better, I wanted to take that and see if I could deconstruct it. If I could break Taka down to his core, expose all of the secret little things inside of him that he must be hiding to present such a ‘perfect’ front, and turn it on its side. To give Taka reasons for his madness to better himself and then take it apart. Or, in other words, the entire premise I had for this story was to take Taka and break him down. And then, then I would build him back up. Into something less ‘perfect,’ less rules oriented, but a hell of a lot happier. Because in canon… Taka didn’t really strike me as happy. Not based on the things he would say to Makoto in both free time events and the school mode.

In order to do that, of course, I had to completely break apart the things that made him so rule oriented in the first place. And to someone who has spent almost their entire life building up this one persona, that sort of thing can be terrifying and uncomfortable. And it can lead to a lot of confusion and scrambling afterwards.

Chapter 17 was where I made the biggest break for Taka. I’d been chipping away at him for the first 16 chapters, and then 17 was the one where I took my sledgehammer and went to town. That chapter was the one in which Taka realized just how unhappy and discontent he had been growing up. He’d always stuffed that down and ignored it in order to keep going, forcing himself to ignore his pain so that he could become all that he wanted to be. He wasn’t even conscious of doing this since it was so deeply engrained in him by that point. Like I said in the very first chapter, Taka would run so fast and so fervently from his insecurities growing up that he didn’t even notice that they were occurring within him. Or if he did, he ignored them until it all went away.

In chapter 17, Taka stopped being able to run. His feelings for Mondo created a huge rift inside him and he didn’t know how to handle it. And then, after his conversion with his father, he realized that he’d been forcing everything down for all of his life, to the point that he didn’t know who he was. He wanted to be an upright, moral individual, but how could he be if he is in love with a man? How can he be when he can feel such impure, base desire for someone, a man especially? And I’m not saying that there is anything wrong with a man loving a man, not at all! Just… it went against the carefully constructed morality Taka, personally, had spent his entire life forcing himself to abide by, and that was a huge blow to him. He couldn’t comprehend it and he just… fell apart.

But he didn’t fall apart alone. Mondo was there to catch him as he fell, was there to help gather the pieces, and Taka latched onto that. He didn’t know what was happening or why, but he knew that Mondo was a vital component to all of it. In a way… Mondo was everything to him.

The main point is that I wanted to break Taka’s character apart, mostly because I cannot imagine someone being that moral and upright while not being completely miserable (or without actually being completely immoral, like all those people who preach righteousness while actually doing horrible things behind the scenes without care). There’s a sort of misery in enforced righteousness, especially considering how horrible the world can be. I liked Taka and I wanted him to be happy. And I couldn’t, for the life of me, imagine him being the way he was portrayed in the game and also being happy. Maybe that’s just me projecting, but… I don’t know.

But deconstructing years of a carefully constructed persona is— like I said— terrifying. And for someone like Taka, whose entire life plan was crafted around a certain image? I can only imagine that would be like jumping off a plane into a black, inky darkness, no idea where you’re going to land. But Taka did that, because the only other option was to continue living with intense unhappiness, lying to himself to keep his sanity. But the problem with lying to yourself is that it gets so much harder once you know the truth. It can be done, of course, but it leads to even more unhappiness and pain and Taka… Taka realized that he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be in pain anymore. He… he wanted to be happy. Which is an incredibly hard thing to accept when you’ve spent years silently accepting your own unhappiness as a fact of life.

As such, everything that has occurred since chapter 17 has been Taka’s attempt at constructing a new personality, in a way. A personality that marries the beliefs and goals he has always had while also combining them with a new sense of happiness and contentment in his life that before now he’s never felt. And this… this is so, so hard for him to do.

And it gets harder when his and Mondo’s relationship shifts. When he gets a taste of something he’d previously not allowed himself to ever, ever feel. Which brings us to the questions of why, exactly, I put so much sexual content into this story, despite it not seeming like something Taka would really want to do in canon.

Because… it’s not about pleasure. Right? It was never about pleasure or desire. It was about Taka allowing himself to feel something that every human feels (or, you know. Not every human. But a lot). It was about making Taka acknowledge that he is feeling these ‘impure,’ ‘sinful’ desires and allowing him to feel it. And, of course, this can be overwhelming. Taka has never allowed himself to feel these sorts of things before, had always pushed them so far down he couldn’t even see them. So far down he could pretend they weren’t there.

But they were. They always were. Taka can feel desire and attraction. He can feel them just fine. The whole point of the sexual content was to show Taka that it is okay to feel like that and that it’s not wrong or immoral. That Taka can feel attracted to someone, a man especially, and not feel ashamed. But more than that, it’s about allowing Taka to acknowledge that can be who is he in general without shame. That he doesn’t always have to be ‘perfect’ or infallible. That he can just be… Taka.

The biggest problem in all of this, however, is the fact that Taka is not the only character in this story. He’s not the only one going through a metamorphosis. Because Mondo? Oh, you can bet your sweet behind I was making Mondo go through his own metamorphosis, too.

Because everything I said about Taka up until now? I also feel about Mondo. I view Mondo’s tough guy, biker persona just like I view Taka’s upright, moral one. It’s a facade. Something that is hiding what is truly going on under the surface. It protects their soft, gooey innards, keeping them both safe whilst also providing them a sense of being. Of belonging.

But it’s not healthy. Hiding behind a persona, not letting your true emotions show. It’s unhealthy and leads to, you know… pain and unhappiness. And Mondo… Mondo also strikes me as a somewhat unhappy character. His disconnect in the game is less towards other people, however, and more towards himself. Makoto acknowledges many times after speaking with Mondo during free time events that he has a hidden side to him. A softer, ‘cuter’ side that he tries (and fails, ha) to keep hidden.

Like with Taka, I wanted to break Mondo’s carefully constructed persona and remove this hidden person inside him. I wanted to bring that person to the surface, finally allowing Mondo to stop feeling like he has to hide behind anger and rage and being ‘strong’. I wanted… I don’t know. To allow Mondo to not feel so ashamed of his weaker side, I guess.

This was a lot harder to do than with Taka, though, for a couple reasons. One, I was not writing from Mondo’s perspective in TPWP, which means all of his metamorphosis was being seen through the eyes of another. Which is not always easy to portray, sadly. For another, Mondo has a huge reason to keep his inner self hidden and locked away. Taka’s reason is shame and a desire to prove himself, right? This, in my eyes, is fairly simple to deconstruct. All you have to do is find a way to remove the shame and realize that it’s okay to feel what you feel. And yes, this is challenging, but… it’s not impossible.

Mondo, though? What’s keeping Mondo back isn’t just shame and a desire to prove himself. No. What’s holding Mondo back is guilt. Mondo feels guilty for his weakness. He feels guilty that his supposed ‘weakness’ killed his brother. He feels guilty that this same ‘weakness’ is preventing him from telling the truth, from accepting the responsibility for his supposed crime. Mondo, in many ways, hates himself. In this story, at least. And guilt is a much, much harder emotion to deconstruct than shame. There’s also the fact that I made Mondo an abuse survivor, which adds another element into this all that I won’t get into since this whole thing is already much longer than I’d initially intended, oof.

Anyway. The point here is that both Taka and Mondo are going through this metamorphosis at the same time. And I did this purposely since I wanted to have them help each other grow. Right? Because I view Taka and Mondo as very similar characters. They both have a need to prove themselves and a sense of inner righteousness that guides them in what they do. They just took opposite paths in their expression of these things. But ultimately, at their core, Taka and Mondo are very similar in my eyes.

Honestly, that’s part of why I had them hate one another in the beginning (on top of the fact that they didn’t get along in the game at first either, ha). That was each of them seeing themself in the other, and absolutely hating what they saw. Because they hate themselves. Because they cannot stand the persona they’ve created. Because it’s such a painfully false front that it’s almost offensive to them to see it on another.

Chapter ten was my way of letting them acknowledge a sense of self love for the first time. By accepting the other as flawed, but still fundamentally good, it allowed them to see themselves in a somewhat positive light for the first time. To accept that this person they once hated with all of their heart is… not that bad when it comes down to it. And not only are they not that bad, but they’re actually kind of amazing, really.

I… hm. I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I am very tired and am kind of just rambling at this point. I guess I just… I wanted to acknowledge that I’ve changed both of these characters a lot from canon, Taka especially. And this change has been expressed in a great way in Taka’s increased sexuality. And that I know this, that I know this isn’t really what canon Taka would act like, but that’s kind of the point. As much as I love Taka as a character, he’s kind of one dimensional. All of the characters in Danganronpa are. I think, in a way, they’re meant to be. But when you spend time with them, during the free time events and the school mode, you begin to see a slightly more well-rounded picture.

But it… it still feels a little flat to me. A little hollow. So, in this story, I just… wanted to flesh out these characters that I like and see so much potential in. I wanted to take them, give them tragic backstories, and see if I could find a way to give them balance. To keep them somewhat the same as they once were, to not fully remove their canon aspects, but not have that be their sole, defining characteristic anymore. Taka is still the Ultimate Moral Compass, and Mondo is still the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader. But that’s not all they are. Not by the end of the story.

Now, did I succeed in my plan? I… honestly, I don’t know. This entire thing was never something I consciously thought of while writing. It was more… a desire of mine, which might be why I’m having such a hard time describing it here, ha. It’s up to all of you to determine if I succeeded in writing these characters in a way that respects their canon characterization, while also adding a sense of balance within them.

Also— not to sound pretentious (though I know I am, oof. I always am when dead tired, sorry)— but in a way, this whole story was a metaphor for self-acceptance and self-love. And allowing yourself to find peace in who and what you are, no matter what. I made Taka and Mondo literary parallels in this story for a reason, giving them similar backstories (Taka was abused by bullies and neglected by his father; Mondo was abused by his father and neglected by his mother. Mondo’s brother died, leaving a hole in his heart; Taka’s mother died, leaving a hole in his heart. Taka watched his grandfather fall from grace and used that as a catalyst to ‘better’ himself, thus hiding all the unpleasant and unsavory aspects about himself; Mondo watched his brother die and used that as a catalyst to ‘better’ himself, thus hiding all the unpleasant and unsavory aspects about himself… etc.) to showcase this metaphor, in a way.

And it… it was to show that them helping the other grow symbolizes allowing yourself to grow, too. It symbolizes taking all the harsh and ugly parts of yourself that you hate, seeing it in another person, and realizing you actually love them, really. It symbolizes showing kindness to yourself for your faults, something I personally struggle with. By having Taka and Mondo love one another so fiercely, even without fully knowing why… it symbolizes, in my mind, letting you love yourself.

And, like… I know how pretentious this sounds, ha. And I don’t think I really succeeded in portraying all of this, unfortunately. But I just… I don’t know. I love the idea of Taka and Mondo and I wanted to write a story where they love one another unconditionally, while at the same time learning to love themselves too.

In many ways, I wish I had made this story take place over the span of a longer amount of time. Three months is just… it’s too quick to do everything I wanted to do in this story. Like I’ve said before, this story was never meant to be so long, word count wise. And a lot of what I wrote about here was not really planned when I started writing. While I wanted to deconstruct Taka, I didn’t really realize how long that would take, oof. Or what it all would entail. I thought three months would be plenty of time in universe, but then more and more things started happening, and by the time I realized it would need more time to progress naturally, I had passed the point of no return, pretty much.

If I could do this story all over again, I think I’d make it take place over the span of a year instead. I’d start the school year in April, like it’s supposed to be in Japan, and extend the amount of time Taka and Mondo were enemies. I’d have them become friends shortly before summer break and when they come back, have them go through the beginnings of their friendship like I had it in the story, but allowing it more time to progress. Taka and Mondo would still have their fight on Halloween, since that’s kind of an important aspect of that chapter, but they’d have had a longer time to be friends before that occurred. And then, after that, they’d have their physical relationship progress a lot more naturally and less hurriedly, the relationship spanning from perhaps right before winter break begins to the end of the school year in Japan, which is March. It would give them more time to come to terms with everything and accept themselves.

Part of me honestly kind of does want to change around TPWP to do this, but it would change a lot of fundamental parts of the story, which would be a lot of work. And if I was planning on publishing this story, I’d definitely do it since I think it would fix a lot of the problems that I have with how this story progresses. Three months is not long enough to completely deconstruct your entire personality, really. A year is a lot better and makes more sense to me. But, as it stands, I… I like TPWP. Is it perfect? No. But… that’s kind of the point? Nothing is perfect and if I allow myself, I’ll keep digging myself into more and more holes with this story, and at some point, I just… have to acknowledge I did the best I could and move on. Also, I do think that having it take place over three months isn’t completely unrealistic. Not with how unhappy both Taka and Mondo already had been. And there are some things that would be unrealistic if it took place over a year, too, so… eh.

I really don’t know where I’m going with this anymore, dear god. I’m going to go back to my original point real quick and hopefully finish this now hour long, rambling rant I’ve for some reason been going on. Jeez.

So. The purpose of the sexual content in this story. It— like a lot of other things in this story— was more meant as kind of like… a metaphor. It’s not about the sex, it’s about self-acceptance. Taka spent so many years denying himself and his sexuality, fearing it and feeling ashamed of it. By allowing himself to be sexual and intimate with Mondo, he’s accepting that aspect of himself and embracing it. But, because he spent so long denying it, he doesn’t quite know when it’s too much. He’s spent his life pushing down his discontent and discomfort to become what other people want him to be, and as such, he doesn’t quite know where his own boundaries lie.

And I’m going to be quite honest with y’all: Taka doesn’t enjoy the sexual acts quite as much as he thinks he does. No, I’m not saying that Mondo is taking advantage of Taka, or that Taka hates what they’re doing, not at all! Just… Taka feels uncomfortable with the things he and Mondo are doing, but because he enjoys the sensation and enjoys being close to Mondo, he pushes down the feeling of discontent, like he’s done all of his life. He just… doesn’t know what else to do. He knows he likes being close to Mondo, knows he enjoys the things they do together, but can’t quite put his finger on the fact that he doesn’t really enjoy being sexual. That he only likes the sexual acts because it’s the only way he can be close to Mondo in the way he wants, both physically and— in a way— emotionally.

And part of Taka does realize this, right? The deep, deep, hidden part of himself that only comes out at night when everything else is silent. I call this the ‘introspective’ part. But this is a hard part of yourself to access and acknowledge. Especially when you’re young. I, personally, am a very introspective person. It’s why I can write about emotions and feelings decently, and why I am currently writing this little introspective about TPWP. But it was a lot harder for me when I was a teen to realize what that introspection meant. It’s why I didn’t realize I had undiagnosed anxiety until I was eighteen and in college, which was ironically a lot easier for me than high school was. It took me being out of the situation I was in to look at myself and realize exactly why I felt what I felt, even though I knew I felt that stuff much earlier.

Taka’s still in his bad situation, though. He’s still struggling with the desire of what he wants and what he’s forcing himself to settle for. And, basically, he doesn’t understand why he’s unhappy at being sexual. He knows on a base level that he is, but he can’t quite place his finger on the why. Which is, as I’ve said, because it’s not really what he wants. He’s settling for having Mondo in whatever way he can because he thinks he has to. But it’s not what he wants, and it’s honestly killing him inside to be so close to his desired outcome, but not have it. He hates that the only way he can have Mondo is in such a shallow, debased way, but he’s forced himself to believe that this is all he will ever have, and that he must be happy with it or else he will lose it, like he’s lost every good thing in his life before that point. And the thought of losing what he and Mondo have is just… it’s too much for him. He’s still figuring himself out, still building his new personality from the ruins of the old, and he kind of needs Mondo to help prop him up as he does this.

(Which is, by the way, unhealthy in a relationship. It’s very codependent and can lead to some negative outcomes in its own right. But this rant of mine has been going on for almost two hours, so I’m not going to get into this right now. Just know that I know, and that it’s not intended to be portrayed as a good thing. None of Taka’s coping mechanisms are, which is why they all fail in the end, leaving him discontent. But as of now, Taka kind of needs Mondo, so he’s overlooking the potential negative outcome and is just allowing himself to have Mondo. Make sense?)

In the end, the only way for Taka to fully come to terms with everything that is swirling within him is to have Mondo acknowledge the love they share for each other, since he can’t accept everything about himself until Mondo does. He needs Mondo to look at him, look at his flaws, and say ‘I love you no matter what. You are not perfect, but I still love you.’ And while Mondo has done this to some degree, it’s not the love Taka not-so-secretly desires. But, like I said earlier, Mondo is going through his own metamorphosis and isn’t quite at that stage yet.

All of this comes to a head in the last three chapters of TPWP. Does everything get resolved by the end? No. Of course not. There’s just not enough time for that. Discovering yourself takes years, really. And you never finish. Even if I had elongated the amount of time this story takes place to a year, there still would be things unresolved when the story ended.

That being said, the main problems both Taka and Mondo are going through reach a conclusion. I don’t want to go too much into this to prevent spoilers, but just know that everything I brought up here? Gets some form of acknowledgment in the last chapters and gets some manner of resolution. And everything else was initially intended to be resolved in sequels, which may or may not be written, who knows. But TPWP ends in a way that even without further writing from my part, I firmly believe that all of y’all can see where Mondo and Taka will go from here. That it won’t be easy, but that they will eventually figure themselves out.

So… yeah. That insanely long and complicated rant boils down to this: Taka and Mondo being sexual is not really about them being sexual but is about them understanding and accepting their love not just for one another, but for themselves, too. It’s a catalyst. And I didn’t go over Mondo’s views on this all, and I won’t since this has gone on so long (plus I’ve not written Mondo’s perspective on those chapters yet, so even I don’t fully know, though I have ideas), but believe me when I say it’s more than just sex for him, too. That’s one of the reasons why I didn’t really want to categorize this story as explicit at first, since it’s never been about the sex to me. It’s… more than that.

I don’t know if any of this made any sense, but I think I’m going to stop now. Maybe I’ll go back when I’m less tired and expand on this (and I’ll let y’all know if I do, writing after this break if I added anything or not) (I added a little to some parts and took out a couple of parts, but mostly this is the same thing I wrote between 5 and 7 am when I couldn’t sleep, ha), but for now, I’ll leave it.

And— final thing (that I added after trying to fall back asleep and failing, ha)— maybe I’m being more pretentious about my writing than it deserves. Maybe I’m saying all of this to try and excuse the flaws in my writing, like I always do internally. But… I don’t know. This is legitimately the sort of thing that went through my head whilst writing. I knew I wanted to put these elements in my story, even if I wasn’t consciously thinking about it, but trying to do all of that is just… hard. And I’m limited as a writer, I’ll acknowledge that. My thoughts are too big for my head and trying to write them all down is complicated for me. It’s why this little introspective is so long and rambling. It’s my way of trying to not just get you all to figure out what I mean, but also get myself to understand it. Because, while I know what I mean on an abstract, metaphysical level, I don’t really understand it all myself in a concrete, definable level. And this rambling is me trying to make sense of that. Does… does that make any sense at all? Or is this just gibberish? I don’t know. I think I understand it, but I have no idea if anyone else will. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway. I hope this didn’t come across as too pretentious or like I’m trying to show off how ~~intellectual~~ I am. That’s not my intention at all. It’s just… it’s how I think. And it’s how I show myself to the world, in a way. My written work is always so personal to me. I put a lot of myself into my work, sometimes intentionally, but often unintentionally. And I’m not saying I went through any of what I put Mondo or Taka through. In fact, almost none of it relates to my life at all. I was never abused by anyone, nor was I bullied in school. I have a fairly good relationship with my parents and was well liked by my classmates, even when I didn’t really go to class often due to illness. I am not impoverished, nor have I ever really faced high expectations from family or the people around me. I’ve never really had to anguish over my sexuality, since I accepted myself as asexual pretty easily, though I still struggle to be open about it with everyone. And I’ve never lost a loved one.

So… no. It’s not that I’ve gone through what the characters have gone through. But… the emotions. The feeling. All of that… it’s me. Even if it’s imagined or created, I feel everything that I write and put down. It’s why angst comes more naturally to me, since I’ve felt a lot of negative emotions in my life. And most of it is self-inflicted. Like… I mentioned that I never had high expectations from family, but I did from myself. I expected so, so much from myself, and I still do. And while I was always well liked by my peers, I still felt alienated from them, like I… I don’t know. Didn’t really belong. And I feared that if they ever got to truly know me, THEN they’d hate me, and that was just… I don’t know. Too much for me. The thought that these things could happen. That I could have good things and then, through my own personal failings, lose them.

These fears are where I come from when writing. My fear of being hated and isolated. My fear of never being enough. My fear of letting everyone down. My fear of always being alone and losing the people I love. I write about it in my stories and I… I find a way to fix it. To show myself that even if something like that did happen, it… it can get better. You can still be loved even if you are flawed and kind of broken inside. And maybe I don’t believe that I ever will find love, maybe I can’t believe that anyone would look at me like that if they truly got to know me, but it’s still nice to read about it. To see my fears in characters I love and have them be okay in the end. It’s why I always like to have at least somewhat happy endings in my stories. I need to see that it’s okay. That even if the worst-case scenario happened… I’d still be okay.

(Also, I know people are going to ask this, but please know that yes, I am okay. I get like this sometimes, where I think a lot about stuff, and it can be overwhelming, which is why I write it down. It’s funny that I’ve never had a diary or journal, since it seems like something that would help me, but writing things down for my personal perusal never made sense to me. It’s why I always post things like this. It’s really personal, but it helps me feel better. Like I’m being understood in some way. So, just… know that I’m doing alright. I just wanted to try and explain something that has been bugging me in this story for a while now that I finally found the words for. And by letting it out into the world, I can remove it from my chest, I suppose. But introspection doesn’t really upset me much. It’s cathartic more than anything. Painful and confusing while going through it but relieving once it’s done. All I ask is to be heard, that’s all. And understood if possible. If you’re willing.)

(Also also, please know that I wrote this little introspective several days ago while very tired, and I’m over this burst of emotions by now mostly. So, again, I’m really okay. And I’m not pulling a Taka, trying to pretend I’m doing alright when I’m not. I do mean it, ha.)

(Also also also, but y’all can see where I get my writing style from when looking at this, ha. This is basically my thought process written down, which is why TPWP is written the way it is. I write like I think, which is long, rambling, and emotive. Just a little fun fact. ^-^)

#Random ramblings #TPWP introspective

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cattles-bians · 3 years ago

Text

exes au part 11

post directory

obsetress: i'm about to fully fall asleep but i have been thinking about exes au danvi and like the isabel of it all and dani dating a single mom and how just like

obsetress: vi is so protective of isabel and as much as she loves dani like

obsetress: she took SO LONG before introducing her and then like

obsetress: when they broke up dani left and dani wasnt in isabels life anymore and dani was so good for isabel and viola just feels so fuckin shitty and blames herself and

obsetress: but i'm also thinkin bout soft fluffy stuff too like how much dani loves isabel and how much vi loves watching isabel w dani and

em: hey hannah what the fuck

obsetress: isabel has a nightmare one night and goes to her mom's room and dani's there too and she just curls up between them

em: do you think when they finally reconnected dani was like hey um. does isabel remember me. would it be weird if

obsetress: FUCK

obsetress: this absolutely happens

em: viola is VERY apprehensive at first

obsetress: god yeah esp after getting so hurt by it but

obsetress: viola sure cannot say no to dani!

em: i love some dani with kids tho

em: maybe too soft but do u think for at least a couple years dani would like. send isabel a bday card

em: like dead air otherwise

em: hmm idk i am chewing that one over more

obsetress: god it's hard i think dani wants to but she doesn't

obsetress: i could see dani writing them and holding onto them

em: oh that’s even worse

obsetress: even tho she really doesnt think she'll ever talk to vi again

em: what a soft and depressing thought. thank u. i resent u.

obsetress: yeah it hurts!

obsetress: but then she does! and she gives them all to isabel when she's older maybe

em: hold on i’m gonna bawl

em: sometimes my parents will be like um. do u remember this person and i’m like uh i don’t remember people i worked w two years ago let alone

em: but i think isabel does

em: i will be thinking about this all afternoon bestie have a wonderful slumber

[em note: em yells in hannahs DMs while she's asleep dot png]

em: no um. mate im still furious about the isabel of it all wtf

em: thinking about um. like ok i dont wanna use isabel as a prop but this is certainly one of those times where

em: violas been hurt before and viola's hurt other people before because she's deeply troubled and i feel like that would be one of the first times she sorta. sure she licks her wounds and feels miserable for herself but its also like uh

em: really sobering to realise This Hurts Isabel Too

em: because yknow violas very gatekeep gaslight girlboss i think shes got a strong enough sense of self that nothing really shakes that. maybe even to a deluded degree. i dont think she goes to therapy because shes like wow im fucked up i gotta get help, she's more like

em: shes really driven by her love for isabel!! gestures WILDLY

em: realised this is an au where parents get therapy and dont pass their traumas onto their kids and i want OFF this WILD RIDE im so tired of discovering things about myself through the realm of fiction

obsetress: yeah same i kept thinking about it too alfkadlsfkjdasf

obsetress: i want to reply to every single line of the isabel thing but i'm not gonna do that so let me just say: YEAH

obsetress: like isabel is her cornerstone full stop everything comes down to isabel

em: dani's probably so nervous reconnecting w isabel again. absolutely spinning her lil wheels

em: they set up a lil date and time and dani's doing her gay nervous babble abt if isabel even remembers her or god forbid resents her n jamies like...

em: im pursing my lips as i draw a line on the whiteboard between jamie's whole childhood and isabels and shaking my head Goddamn It

em: jamie lets dani babble it out n pauses and reflects on what she's saying n then jamie's like. the fact ur nervous means u care. n kids are v good at picking up when ppl care. you'll be alright.

obsetress: god yeah this bit i can just. hear it

obsetress: it's so visceral

---

em: viola

obsetress: god my favorite taurus hedonist

[em note: hannah yells in em's DMs while em is asleep dot png]

obsetress: god fuck what was i thinking about isabel this morning like

obsetress: that's what i get for daydreamin between snoozes and not writing it down alas

obsetress: but just like how excited isabel is to see dani again when she does and also like, isabel and rebecca

obsetress: then i started thinking about

obsetress: rebecca and vi getting married and vi's always like i'm not gonna get married again it's bullshit and rebecca's like it's not for me but then they just

obsetress: like they live together and they share everything and rebecca looks out for isabel just as much and they get to a point and it's like

obsetress: oh. oh

obsetress: like they're both like it's the logical thing to do. it's logical and it's safe and we should have this extra layer of protection but also it's like

obsetress: they find themselves more and more excited a lil you know? and just thinking about how isabel's there and how excited isabel is and

obsetress: but god yeah what i was thinking about this morning like. one day vi has to tell isabel dani's not gonna be coming around anymore and like

obsetress: isabel doesn't really understand and she's so sad and then vi feels even shittier

obsetress: and she's like "we'll be okay. it's you and me, remember? moving mountains"

obsetress: "you me us, right?"

obsetress: the first time rebecca meets her she brings her a book as a gift and is like "this was one of my favorites" and

obsetress: OH I REMEMBERED

obsetress: so like when dani sees isabel again finally (and yknow as nervous as dani was vi was even more on edge because it's so inconsistent and is she gonna understand yknow? and the two of them just spiral––which is also another thing about the two of them in a relationship! i think they push each other down spirals)

obsetress: jamie's there too and dani's like "this is... this is, uh, jamie" and it's like you said jamie isabel parallels and so jamie's like a lil tender

obsetress: spoiler: isabel and jamie end up bonding the most

obsetress: jamie's like running around with isabel on her shoulders and then showing her all these plants and taking her to gardens and

obsetress: another tentative jamie vi alliance

em: isabel mikey hangout When

obsetress: isabel mikey hangout!

obsetress: they're hanging with isabel and she and jamie have a very spirited discussion where isabel's like "i wanna be a princess" and dani's like "why not a knight?" and jamie's like "why not opt out of the feudalistic hierarchy entirely and ditch the kingdom for the high seas?" and convinces isabel to go full pirate

obsetress: and then isabel kinda passes out with her head in jamie's lap and jamie's just kinda idly playing with her hair (vi is already like "am i... attracted to jamie in this moment?")

obsetress: and jamie's like "y'know, i should bring mikey round next time isabel's here" and viola's like "......who?" and jamie's like "my little brother? mikey?" and viola's like "right.... right"

obsetress: cut to later, when dani and jamie have retired to vi and becca's guest room: "since when does jamie have a little brother?" "she always has, babe"

em: kinda obsessed w like. violas love for isabel means her wires get crossed when the surly gardener is Good With Kids

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: mikey and isabel immediately hit it off i think

obsetress: a bit of an odd couple because i think isabel is definitely, like, her mother's daughter and mikey is............. mikey

obsetress: but i think they meet in the middle and help each other grow and play pirates together

em: viola is like. of course mikey and isabel will get along. isabel is wonderful. but jamie is quietly Sweating about the whole thing

em: so damvibecca are having their afternoon tea and their little cakes and jamie is Quietly sweating and she’s like ‘quiet is good, right? like they’re not tryna k-‘ and then there’s the sound of two 8 year olds (idk how old they are tbh) YELLING as they chase each other down the hall w wrapping paper tubes

obsetress: nervous babbling dani x quietly sweating jamie, an otp

em: isabel has gotten into the make up n given them both black eyes n scars and moustaches n everyone’s like oh no how’s viola gonna feel about this but viola is DELIGHTED

obsetress: dani's like "chill you all she's gonna––" and then viola is getting up and asking them to do her face too

em: made a parrot outta a sock and newspaper

obsetress: viola playing pirates w isabel and mikey

em: kids w their endless creativity n absolute disregard for personal property is truly a thing of dreams

obsetress: mikey gives her a paper tube and she disarms isabel, takes hers, and offers it very seriously to jamie

em: cuteeee

obsetress: rebecca's giving dani a look and dani is completely unfazed and reaching for another tea cake

em: absolutely unflappable dani clayton

em: dani and rebecca sharing a Look like hey have you ever seen her this gleeful

obsetress: there is something very tasty about jamie taylor having a direct hand in making viola so gleeful

em: takes a village!

obsetress: when viola's two big loves are sitting five feet away from them both

em: everyone changes everyone for the better

em: fucken soft ass chat over here

obsetress: everyone changes everyone for the better

obsetress: soft as hell

em: thesis statement everyone likes each other so much (jamie pretends she doesn’t)

obsetress: (jamie pretends she doesn't) (jamie might like everyone the most)

obsetress: viola registers mikey for isabel's school n pays full tuition

em: oh my god

obsetress: jamie is horrified and refuses to accept it and viola waves a hand and is like "too late, deposit's non-refundable"

em: (they carpool)

obsetress: PLEASE

obsetress: oh god and like

obsetress: flora and miles go there too

obsetress: full circle complete

em: broke: highschool au woke: guardians of primary schoolers au

obsetress: dani jamie in bed jamie's like "you don't...... think it's weird?" "hmm?" "mikey going to.... school with our boss' kids?" "why would that be weird" "i dunno" "he also goes to school with my ex's kid" "he's best friends with your ex's kid" "and that's not weird, is it?" (grumbles) "not anymore" "so why would this be?"

em: jamie’s ribbing mikey for his silly tie and straw hat but she teaches him how to tie a tie and also she keeps crying for some reason???

obsetress: oh fuck

em: mikey: can’t i just get a fake tie >:/

jamie: no because when u have a real tie you can leave it untied a little as an act of rebellion

obsetress: god it's jamie crying for me

em: i love that big baby

obsetress: so much!

em: jamies like idk what’s gotten into me i never cry n danis like. raises one eye brow and mentally checks off all the times jamie has absolutely bawled watching a movie

em: not even a sad movie

em: dani plays along

em: maybe ur getting soft in ur old age jamie

obsetress: jamie i cry three four times a day five if i'm being honest taylor

em: thinking about their weekly weekend lunch w damvibecca and hannah and owen and miles and flora and

obsetress: dfjsldkfjslfslfj

obsetress: god big found family

obsetress: you know viola doesn't like

obsetress: dani and jamie respectfully toe around whatever the fuck owen and hannah have going on but viola just does not suffer it. she's so blunt to them

em: big viola grin and all ‘owen, hannah, i assume you will be each other’s dates?’ (owen chokes on his tiny egg sandwich)

em: hannah grose is serene and unreadable as she dabs a bit off yolk off owens moustache

em: maybe even a bit pleased

obsetress: everyone is always so tense when viola and hannah get together because neither of them take shit yknow

obsetress: and everyone's like "which way is this gonna go"

em: god. peak snarky broads

obsetress: but usually they end up good. two apex predators where one is a lil vicious but the other is so confident in its status that it just chills

em: they have the Best gossip

obsetress: would love to sit in and listen as they drink tea and gossip tbh

em: viola presses owen on hannah and he goes red and viola presses hannah on owen and she does a little wouldnt-you-like-to-know into her tea

em: viola nee willoughby and hannah grose friendship is. truly something i never knew i needed until now

em: they’re both just that lil bit older than the rest of the gang too

obsetress: an important coalition

obsetress: hannah grose! hannah looking out for rebecca and that's the couple times she gets a lil testy w vi

obsetress: mikey and isabel besties but flora and mikey get along really well and isabel and miles do too i think

em: the sheer chaos of a taylor-lloyd-windgrave story time

obsetress: LDKFjKLSDJF HELP

obsetress: taylor lloyd wingrave story time

obsetress: jamie suddenly very invested in story time

obsetress: dani's like "i know this is the first time you've actually cared about story time, babe, so let me give you some pointers"

em: i was just in my head thinking fondly about like. jamie is a drop out and plays a lil dumb sometimes for fun but also prolly reads a lot especially to mikey and now i’m like. wait i’m talking to Ms Floras Two Moms herself

em: idk if i had that headcanon before i read she taught me a lesson alright but yknow what! doesn’t matter it’s a beautiful one

obsetress: thank youuuu i love it a lot

obsetress: jamie big reader is generally one of my fave headcanons tbh i'm glad it seems to be widely accepted. can't even explain why it's just nice

em: sometimes i will talk 2 ppl about my passionate drop out jamie taylor belief n then they’re like but she’s smart (it’s only happened a couple times hahsj) and i’m like these aren’t mutually exclusive!! this is my very biased experience but my friends who do manual labor for a living seem to read so much more than my friends who don’t

em: your brain wants to chew over things while the hands are workin i reckon

obsetress: yes yes yes yes yes

obsetress: i think that's also like (sighs heavily)

obsetress: symptomatic of hegemonic perceptions of the working class

em: i love when u sigh heavily it’s always a fun take

obsetress: i think jamie is v clever and reflective and like if there's one thing i've learned getting older it's

obsetress: smart doesn't matter i think the most insightful most thoughtful people are the most reflective ones

obsetress: like none of it fuckin matters just be a nice person

#in which hannah says hegemonic perceptions of the working class and i pretend its foreshadowing vampire au #the dani jamie viola rebecca exes au #LONG one its like #2500 words which is #yknow! some pages #idk what counts as long all writing is witchcraft to meajhfjbnk #ik i should be pacing these a lil better but #i just wanna get up to vibeccas wedding im IMPATIENT

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