#i don't claim to be a saint but you've got problems

[elvisabutler]

could i possibly request more gun kink pls? 🙏🙏🙏

red brass

summary: elvis loves you or at least likes you. elvis learns things on the road. elvis likes to have the girl he likes try the new things he thinks he'll like with him. you allow it. fandom: elvis presley | elvis 2022 pairing: elvis presley x female reader rating: m word count: 3408 just i don't know what happens. i don't know why i write 3k gun kink fics. warnings: gun kink. use of a gun in penetrative ways. guns. implied masturbation ( m ). implied future oral ( f ). technically defined as masturbation or maybe fucking ( f ). dubious, and i mean very dubious consent. 50s era elvis being a little shit. infidelity ( elvis to the reader ). southern accents being mildly butchered. faintly erring toward a sub elvis, while also somehow being a dom elvis, it's nebulous honestly. me implying that texans love their guns a lil' too much. use of nicknames ( honey, darlin', baby. ) and 'vis. no use of y/n. i think that might be everything? author's note: hi anon, i know who you are and i love you. i hope you enjoy this fic that essentially is a prequel-ish, a spiritual prequel to gunmetal. and me basically going, i guess i'm gonna write 50s elvis with a gun kink. generally speaking i don't even know what has come over me with this, i'm just gonna take y'all along for a ride. watch me inevitably write army e or hollywood e with gun kink.

You know you can find a better guy, or at least you think you can, because there's something that makes men- little boys want to prove themselves after they find out you're with Elvis Presley. You're fairly certain that you could at least find a guy who would be there more often than Elvis is, you could find a guy who could take you out on regular dates and could eat dinner with your parents and- maybe even get married to you sooner rather than later. The problem is, you're never quite sure you want to find that guy, never quite certain if that sort of guy would be better than Elvis. For all Elvis is a selfish young man— the kind who will take take take from his girlfriends as much as he gives gives gives- he's also a good man. He's a better man than half the boys who sniff around you, the little hound dogs as you and Elvis like to call them. So it's always a whispered "honey, ya ain't gonna leave me are ya? gonna be comin' home soon and we'll have some fun. gonna show those dogs who they'd be fightin' wit' for ya."

Your friends think you're being silly, waiting on Elvis, thinking he's remaining faithful to you while on the road. Your mama thinks the same thing and god help you even Miss Gladys agrees. She loves her son, she does, but she knows- oh she knows how he's been calling her less and less and knows that can't mean a single good thing. Can't mean anything good for anyone involved. But when her little boy calls you or calls her he's always reassuring you both that the girls don't mean nothin'. He's jus' lonely and he can't take he can't take the love of his life or his mama wit' him so sometimes- sometimes there's a girl in the hotel. June says you shouldn't forgive him when he admits it the first time but you've never been like June, never been as strong as June is and maybe— maybe that's why Elvis liked you so much. You're not June but you're just close enough that he can still have her with the parts that don't fit his life removed. Selfish, but he's never claimed to be a saint, hell no one's ever claimed he's a saint.

The thing is- you've gotten used to him talking to you over the phone about things that don't always happen. Sometimes it's just about his dreams, about his plans for what he's gonna do the second he sees you. Sometimes it's plans for how he's gonna take you out on the next tour, he doesn't care how it looks, he misses ya widdle pussy and everyone already knows he's got a girl, it won't matter seeing ya on the tour. You're expecting tonight to be just the same, another night of promises he can't keep even though he'll be home tomorrow night for at least a week or two. Tonight, though, tonight, he surprises you.

"Baby? Ya- Whatcha got planned for tomorrow? Nothin' fancy right?" He murmurs into the phone, his breath hitching in a way you know doesn't mean anything good.

You hum softly, shifting in your bed a little. "Planned on jus' lettin' ya go home to ya parents, honey, why?"

"Wanna- Ya gonna think I'm crazy but wanna try somethin' wit' ya tomorrow night. Think you'll like it." He sounds excitable in a way that means you're gonna regret telling him no if you do. He'll every bit of the young man he is, the yittle boy who wants so much and now that he's got a taste of people saying yes, yes, yes, he doesn't necessarily want to hear no on something he truly wants. "Ya gonna say yes, ain't ya?"

A sigh leaves your lips as you debate with yourself, debate if you can chance saying no before settling on the a yes that's filled with such trepidation you worry he'll still want to argue with you. "'Course I am, darlin'. Tell me, 'Vis, whatcha plannin' on doin' wit' me. Gonna take me somewhere and have us play there? We gonna have fun in the car?"

The tone you manage is light and playful— or at least as close to it as you can manage before you hear Elvis's laugh. It's a laugh you've never heard from him and one that worries you. It sounds a little demonic if you were being perfectly honest, but you trust Elvis for the most part. He loves you and wouldn't purposefully hurt you and maybe it's just a mean idea. One he shouldn't be asking you but he's going to because he knows you're better than all those girls on the road.

"Ya ever played wit' ya daddy's guns, darlin'? Ever felt the metal on ya? It's cold on ya skin, ya know." He muses, like he's put it on his skin and a rush of jealousy rears its ugly head at the idea that maybe just maybe some other girl has gotten to see this. Or maybe he's done this to another girl. You almost miss his next words. "Bet it'd make your chest- make those pretty nipples of your stand right up. Be beggin' for me to suck on 'em."

Your pussy clenches at his words and you can't help how your breath catches. "You'd- I've never— What are ya sayin', Elvis Presley?"

Almost his full name because you're so taken aback by what he's saying. You're imagining this or he's playing a joke on you, trying to get some sort of rise with you. He wouldn't dream of saying this and honestly meaning it. Let alone telling you over the phone like this, it's almost as if he's warnin' you about this but— why? Why would he want to warn you about something like this.

"Honey, I— down here in Texas they— their girls are wild, ya know? Thought it was jus' the women but no it's girls your age too, ya know? Somethin' 'bout this air that makes 'em do things I ain't ever seen another girl do. And I was talkin' to someone 'bout the gun he had on his holster, prettiest thing I ever did see other than you, darlin'. Told me 'bout how his girlfriend— or maybe it was his fiancée played wit' it." Elvis's voice sounds simultaneously like he's nervous to bring this up to you while also taking on this certain element of delight. Certain pleasure in telling you about this person. "Inside of her."

"Inside of— Now I know you aren't— You mean inside her—" You cough, because you are not some wilting little girl. You are Elvis Presley's girlfriend and you can be a big girl about this. "You mean she put it inside of her vagina?" The last word is whispered almost as if you're scared your parents are going to hear or if it'll make it more real to say it out loud.

Elvis chuckles softly, more of a huff of a laugh than anything else before he responds back with any words. "She did. He said he watched her and said she— She liked it. Told 'im it was even better than when he fucked her."

The image of Elvis pumping his gun in and out of you like he would his cock has you dropping the phone for a second in pure shock. The way you can feel your arousal starting to pool between your legs has you biting your lips and shifting in your bed, your thighs gliding together as your breathing changes just slightly. You know Elvis can tell from how he growls into the phone. He may be a dumb yittle boy sometimes but he knows you just as well as you know him now. "You don't really want me to do that when you get home, do you 'Vis?"

"I think ya wanna do it for me, honey. Think if I was there I'd see ya looking like a damn cricket, sliding your legs together. Just one time, baby? One time and if we don't like it, I ain't ever gonna bring it up again. For me? For us?" He sounds so small when he asks, but you know better, it's him trying to charm you, trying to seem all innocent when you both know he hasn't been innocent since the first time he went on tour or the first time a girl batted her eyelashes and said hello.

Your only response is a simple okay before you move onto better topics. Less arousing topics.

Your parents are used to Elvis whisking you away for any number of things so when he comes home the next night, they don't bat an eyelash at him taking you with him to Graceland with promises about how you'll be in another room and his mama won't let him do anything untoward to you. Nevermind that when Miss Gladys sees you it's for the briefest of moments as her son whisks you up the stairs and has you pinned against the door, hands roaming every inch of your skin threatening to set it on fire as he kisses your lips and your neck. He's needy tonight and you don't know if it's because of what you promised him or if he missed you just that much. You feel a hard mass near his leg and you can't help but wonder if it's his cock or the gun because you haven't seen a holster or anything that shows off a gun. Despite your better judgment when he pulls away and you are nuzzling at his nose you give him a nervous grin and whisper a joke.

"That your gun, 'Vis? Or are ya jus' happy to see lil ole me?" A laugh escapes his lips at the same time one escapes yours before he moves to try and pull down your skirts.

"Lil' of both, honey," he practically coos at you when your skirt comes down and you're standing there in your half unbuttoned shirt and your underwear. "Wanna see ya naked for this. Get the full effect."

You bite your lip, your nervousness finally fully peeking through. It's not as if you've never been naked with Elvis, it's not as if he's never seen you completely laid bare underneath him or above him but this is different. Something about this makes you feel raw and exposed like a live wire. A shiver escapes you as Elvis tilts his head just a little bit. 

“Don’t— Ain’t nothin’ we haven’t shown each other, baby. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Gonna make ya feel good. Gonna have ya feeling the hot and cold’s what they said,” his hands ghost over your waist before he slides his hands under your shirt to pull it off of you, kissing along the skin he’s exposing bit by bit. “Ya wanna take off my clothes, honey? That gonna make ya feel better? Give ya somethin’ to settle the shakes ya got like ya had the first time we did it in the Cadillac?”

Your hand clenches into a fist before you nod, moving to undo his belt with a speed that embarrasses you a little bit until you hear him laughing softly above you. He finds it endearing, your eagerness or your nervousness and somehow that settles something in you, makes this seem less terrifying. Elvis may have asked you something that’s a mighty strange request but he’s still your Elvis. He wouldn’t hurt you, not intentionally. It doesn’t take too long before you manage to get him out of all his clothes, watching as his muscles twitch under your touch and how the moment you step out of your undergarments his cock twitches so violently in the confines of his underwear he hisses when he gets to pull them off, cursing at his foreskin. The gun is sitting on the bed and you stare at it as Elvis moves behind you cupping your breasts and kissing along your neck slowly, trying to settle you like a scared animal. 

“It ain’t loaded, honey, just— this one time, ‘member? We jus’ gonna try it, see if those Texans know somethin’ we don’t.” His voice is low enough to be crooning at you and you feel your body lean up against him, relax up against him. “You get to do it, baby. Just, do what ya want with the gun.”

It takes you a minute or maybe five of just relaxing against him to get up the nerve to crawl on his bed and prop yourself on his pillows.The gun feels heavy in your hand but you’re pretty sure you’re just imagining it as you let the metal touch your neck— your overheated neck— and whimper at the coolness of it. Elvis settles himself at the end of the bed, eyes watching how your nipples are already pebbling before the gun even touches them. You let your legs fall open to give him a better view and you hear a grunt that has you looking up at your boyfriend’s lower lip between his teeth.

“Already gettin’ shiny down there. Glowin’ in the moonlight, darlin’. Wanna- Gonna taste all that later, if ya don’t leave it all over the bed.”

You clench around nothing at the words and Elvis reaches out to touch you before you shake your head, “no, wanna— you wanna see me play wit’ this. Wanna see me play wit’ this like they did. No- You don’t get to touch.” 

The funny thing is, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Elvis react as quick as he does in that moment. You don’t think you’ve ever seen your boyfriend respond to something you’ve told him to do as quick as he does in that exact moment. His hand goes directly to his own lap as he nods, whining just a little as he does and you have to bite back the soft giggle that threatens to escape you. The gun though, the sharp coolness of the metal helps you, helps distract you from giggling even if as the gun glides across your nipple you cry out almost in agony. Elvis had been right, they were practically begging to be sucked, to be warmed by his tongue and his mouth. Anything would be better than the bite of the metal, the brush of the barrel against them. Elvis doesn’t make a move though, you had told him not to touch and he was being good even as his hand strayed to his cock, playing with it, his thumb brushing over the tip as he pulled his foreskin back. 

Focusing on him made things worse and somehow better, made you wish you had told him he could touch, made you wish he would was moving the gun himself but he told you this was your call, you were in control of what happened with the gun. Small whimpers leave your lips as you try and keep your legs open, practically trying to grind on the air as you slide the gun down down down your torso. You stop just shy of your vagina, your hand shaking a little before you hear Elvis’s voice.

“Ya— Ya good, darlin’?” His question is asked a little shakily but it makes you realize you aren’t the only nervous one here, or maybe he’s just so turned on he can’t speak straight. It doesn’t matter, you don’t think, not with how it calms you just so. “Ya want my help? Want me to hold it for ya?”

“Please?” Your answer comes out rushed and so quiet that you feel the rush and heat of embarrassment as you shiver from it. You want to do this, but it’s not something you’ve ever done and it’s new. For both of you, you hope. Elvis moves closer to you, deciding that sitting next to you might be the best position for this so he can watch and still help you. You move to take your hand off the gun, thinking he wants complete control before he links your fingers together and places both your hands on the gun. You’re still in control with just a little help from him. 

You take your hand that’s not on the gun and use it you spread yourself open, making sure there’s enough of a glide from your arousal- a forgone conclusion you think- to help with the gun brushing against your cunt— your vagina— your whatever the two of you want to call it. As your fingers start to play with your clit you feel the brush of the metal finally sliding down and against your clit. A groan leaves your lips as you grind down automatically, craving something to finally give you some proper friction. It’s cold but it doesn’t have the same bite as it did against your nipples, no it’s almost as if the burning heat that keeps growing between your legs offsets it, allows the gun to be heated quicker than it ever would be outside of you. Elvis’s lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Ya ready baby? Ready to take it inside?”

A hum is all you can manage, too anxious and excited all at once to trust anything other than a whimper to leave your mouth if you open it. Elvis knows you though, knows you like the back of his hand or like his guitar and he pushes the gun inside you, slowly but surely, watching the barrel disappear in between your legs as you practically keen at the sensation. It’s the metal contrasting with your skin, with your arousal with everything. It feels like it shouldn’t be up there while feeling less filling than Elvis ever has been. You rock a little against it as part of it brushes against your clit or maybe that’s just yours and Elvis’s hands. At some point you shut your eyes, not because you didn’t want to watch, but because the sensation feels better when you don’t see it, it keeps you grounded in a way having your eyes open doesn’t. Elvis’s voice seems so far away even as you rock against the gun. Had this been what the women were talking about? Did they feel like this too? Powerful and yet stripped bare knowing what was between their legs sliding in and out of their most private parts? 

“Christ they weren’t lyin’ ya look fuckin’. Gonna hafta help me wit’ what’s ‘tween my legs, honey. Wanna taste ya after this- wanna have ya all night. Missed ya and now ya doin’ this? Fuckin’ perfect for me. Best girl I coulda asked for. Ya gonna— Ya hear how ya sound?” His words are slurred against your ear and you do hear yourself, hear how the gun squelches and squishes between your folds and you whine, your head turning trying to bury your head into Elvis’s shoulder even if it should be impossible. Your brain and your heart and your ears register him shushing you, telling you he’s gotcha, telling you how he wants to see you come like this and that does it. You clench around the barrel and a soundless scream leaves your mouth as your orgasm rips through you and leaves you shaking and twitching against Elvis. There’s a warmth next to your leg and you open your eyes to see Elvis’s own release against your leg as he flushes under your gaze. 

Almost as if he wants to distract you he starts to pull the gun out and you shut your eyes at the sensation before opening them back up again when you hear the pop of it being pulled completely out of you. It takes you and Elvis a few minutes after he tosses the gun to the side before you speak. 

“Can’t do that again tonight.” But perhaps another night, your mind thinks as you move to play with Elvis’s cock.

His hand moves to swat your hand away as he slinks down the bed and puts himself at eye level with your vagina. “Don’t want ya to,” he pauses, licking his lips as you allow your legs to fall open just a hair. “Gonna taste ya though. See if ya taste any different.”

You don't.

#elvis presley #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #that's all the tags i'm doing. #ally writes #should've hid this one in my ao3.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

From the thingy you reblogged:

Therianthropy (and other goddamn lies)

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

5: What part was hardest to write?

7: Where did the title come from?

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Hey guys trigger warning, this fic involves child abuse and suicidal thoughts and actions, and so do my replies.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

I think it's actually probably this one:

It’s that scene, right? In the Christmas Carol. Tiny Tim, God-Bless-Us-Everyone Tim, he says, I don’t mind when people stare at me because I am a cripple, because it might remind them of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who made lame men walk and blind men see, and that might be pleasant for them, God Bless Us Everyone, A-Fucking-Men. 

It's such an ugly line, is the thing, which is one of the reasons why I love it so much. It's crude. You've got this famous disabled character known for being this shining beacon of goodness and hope and Christmas time, and he's discussed in a very callous manner.

Except, fundamentally, Tiny Tim was always something more to be missed than an actual character. He was a symbol of goodness and charity and tragic loss and has no real personality of his own past how fucking good and gracious he is--which like, to be clear, I'm not shitting on Charles Dickens, he's fucking Charles Dickens and you can pick absolutely any character from any book written pre-1920s and it's a solid bet they're meant to be a symbol rather than an actual character. That's just how the literary field as a whole worked for a while. I'm commenting more on how Tiny Tim most exemplifies the trend of the tokenization of disabled characters.

Like, disabled characters are always given the treatment of being this eternal symbol of suffering being so brave making it through life. Matt Murdock as a concept is fucking revolutionary in the sense that he's an actual three-dimensional disabled character. He's extremely complex and is so much more than his disability. His disability isn't ignored or """"""""overcome"""""""", it's just a part of him. The bigger problem is, people tokenize actual disabled people too, not just fictional characters.

**As a warning, in the next paragraph, I'm going to discuss Catholicism specifically for a bit. I speak entirely to my own experiences with it and I'm not looking to insult or cast judgment on anyone within the religion. Religious experiences are different for everyone and my impression based off of what I experienced is not meant as a commentary on any universality. That being said, religious experiences are different for anyone and a lot of people have trauma. Skip the next two paragraphs if you don't want to hear any commentary on catholicism at all.**

I was raised catholic, and I'd put solid money on the fact that Matt Murdock couldn't step in a church without at least two strangers coming up to him and telling him that God gave him this suffering for the spiritual good of them all. Like, some of the Catholics i knew were fucking weird about making suffering collective (not speaking on all Catholics, just my personal experiences). There are multiple saints who go through disabilities and illness "to offer up the suffering for the good of other's souls." There's a girl who died in an exorcism and people claim she was a holy soul willingly possessed by multiple demons so she could offer her suffering up for others. And many catholics that I knew would be so fucking ready to walk up to you with zero prompting and tell you that God is making you suffer for the good of all others, especially if you're visibly disabled.

Like, fucking imagine that. Imagine walking up to a stranger with a broken arm and being like "the pain you feel is so that others may not have to suffer the holy fire of purgatory" like babe that is not at all a thing you should ever say to someone.

I think there's this huge pressure to be the "perfect" disabled person. The Tiny Tim, who's extremely gracious about all the people being objectively rude to him, because it reminds them of the good Lord Jesus Christ, Amen God Bless. He would have been entitled to his anger. He would have been well within his rights to find them horrifically rude. And I'm not saying you have to respond a certain way about people being rude about your disability, but I'm saying that there's this unreasonable expectation around the disabled community to be these shining little beacons of gracious suffering instead of like. actual fucking people getting about their day. So I love this line because it's Matt taking this standard and not being the perfect gracious blind boy. He's bitter and crude and that's o-fucking-kay.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

I'd say it has to be this:

“I can be something other than this,” Matt tells them. “But I don’t think I want to be.”

I think it's important that Daredevil is a choice that Matt consciously made. It wasn't just gravity, inevitable, it was something he picked.

He could have picked just being Matt Murdock. Be the best goddamn attorney around, but that would mean ignoring all he heard. It'd be an implicit denial of a huge part of himself. He could have been the greatest soldier in the Hand, but that would mean ignoring all he could be as Matt Murdock. Daredevil's a specific choice, and I think it's the only one that lets both halves live together. I also think that it's only one that makes sense if it isn't the only thing he could have been.

One of the biggest things about this Matt is the fact that he's forced to permit his own helplessness. I'm going to talk about this more in #5, but talking about his abuse was difficult, because the fact that Matt Murdock is an abuse survivor is hugely important to who he is, but I didn't want it to be like, trauma porn. Anything I added, it had to be something that directly influenced who he became.

The thing about this Matt is that he's bone-achingly angry at every single person who decides to hurt someone helpless, and he's fucking humiliated because he was that helpless person at the same time. He could have stopped every single person who hurt him. he had to allow them the power to hurt the poor, defenseless blind kid. So it makes him an active participant in his own abuse--not in the sense that he was at fault, he fucking wasn't, but in the sense that he has the added suffering of having to choose to let people hurt him when he could stop them. That being said, all of the abuse that I explicitly outlined all was something that furthered that specific pain.

He could have stopped anyone who hit him, but he had to let them do it. He had to pretend to not know that people were watching him change, because he was blind, and he had no way of stopping them without revealing his super senses. Several of the injustices he suffered were centered on super senses--the abusive parents that slipped him benadryl, the ones that discussed him in terrible ways--that he had absolutely no way of addressing without revealing his true strengths. He's checked in the sense that he can stop them, but only at a cost that he's not willing to pay. It'd be a huge risk, anyone finding out about his senses. So he decides to not risk it. It's an infuriating, humiliating, traumatizing childhood, and that sense of being helpless and someone using that to take advantage is probably the biggest impact on who Matt became.

I say all of this because it's important to his choice to become Daredevil.

He could have been successful Matt Murdock, but he would have to constantly push down that righteousness that makes him him, and ignore the part of him who knew, viscerally, what it meant to be the helpless person. At the same time, he could have gone on a total power trip. There's a version of Matt Murdock in the comic books who became Kingpin. He has a lot of violent tendencies. He struggles with control and power trips. He could have just started hurting people without the part where he helped. It is so fundamental to the Daredevil decision that he could have been something else, but this is what he picked.

Because it's an actionable reversal of that forced helplessness all those years. He's changing the decision that caused him that much pain for that long, and he's doing it so he can be the person he never had--someone who steps in, and stops the bad thing. And a lot of that is his unhealthy tendencies too. The violence, the anger, the powertrips, the toxic tendencies--that's still there. It's not a one hundred percent altruistic or good decision. but it could have not been an altruistic decision at all, and that's important.

5: What part was hardest to write?

The abuse.

Fundamentally, Matt Murdock is a victim of systematic abuse. The things that happened to him when he was a child is vital to his actual character. That being said, I'm not a fan of adding in a bunch of explicit terrible events happening to a child just for the angst. As I said above, I had to walk a line and evaluate what I was putting in to see if it directly related to and explained the decisions Matt was making in the present day. He had to have visceral, bone-deep knowledge of what it meant to be helpless for Daredevil to function as a piece of his arc, and the best way to make the reader understand that is to make them feel the helplessness. That being said, I really didn't want it to end up as trauma porn, so I had to be careful and really evaluate what I put down.

7: Where did the title come from?

So "therianthrophy" is the name for the magical transformation that happens in folklore. Man to werewolf. Woman to mermaid. It's the actual act of change from one thing to another. And I named it that because that's effectively, what stick promised Matt and Lisa, and it was a lie.

Stick found kids who were so traumatized that they'd do anything to change from the person that got hurt into someone that couldn't be hurt anymore. So he hurt them even worse, and promised them it would turn them into something better and stronger, when really all they ended up was the same person with worse pain.

One of the core themes underlying Matt and Lisa's story is that there is no becoming someone else. You are who you are right now, and you will always be that person, and there is nothing that will ever change that. You will always be the person that got hurt. And there's a potential addendum to that, the fact that you can be the person who got better.

Lisa hasn't come to terms with the truth yet. Matt realized that right before his first suicide attempt, and it sounded so terrible to him at the time that he attempted. Over the years, though, he's gotten Foggy and Karen. He's starting to realize that being who he isn't doesn't have to be a terrible thing. One of his biggest hopes is that he can help Lisa to the same with a lot less pain.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

I have a minor hobby that's defridging the Punisher's family. I've got like, four or five fics that i'd love to write around the castle family? I dunno if I ever will get around to them, but I love them. They're the ultimate fridged characters. Their only purpose is to die and be missed. I love making them real people.

Lisa Castle is, arguably, the most fridged of them all. Like, Maria is the classic fridged wife, but she's at least given the treatment of it being clear that her relationship with Frank had ups and downs, so she's not like some perfect, unstained beacon.

Frank Jr. actually gets shelved and ignored more than the rest of the family, especially in fandom, which I touch on more in the first step of kintsugi than I do in this one. But I find it interesting, because Frank Jr's the most explicitly not perfect one in the family. We hear Frank and Maria fought, but it's never shown. A negative word is never said for Lisa. But Frank Jr. painted marines on his mom's wall and parroted some stupid fucking shit he probably heard at school. His loss almost never gets the same prioritization as Lisa's and Maria's.

Lisa, meanwhile, is Frank's baby girl. She was strong and funny and his beloved daughter, and the most important thing about her character is that she was lost. He never read her a bedtime story on her last night alive. He held her when she died. She was Frank's baby girl and he misses her every day.

And, like. The penny and dime scene was fucking phenomenal. It was one of the best television scenes of all time. Jon Bernthal's acting was fantastic. It was heartfelt and tragic.

And one of the reasons why Lisa's loss, and the entire family's loss, is so tragic is that they don't get to be more than their loss, because they're dead. It's lost potential, lost energy, lost space, whatever you want to call it. It's a huge gaping loss, and that's why the punisher has such a painful and visceral storyline.

But that means that it implicitly has to make his family just... things to be missed rather than actionable characters in their own storyline. They're a backstory. They don't get to be more.

So I wanted to take Lisa, who was the "purest" of them all. Didn't have any of the fights Frank Jr had with his dad. Didn't have any of the (extremely normal) rocky aspects of their relationship Maria had with Frank. she's the dead daughter and she is doe eyed and sincere and wanted her daddy to read her a bedtime story. I wanted to take her and make her into a character that could really embody all the messy pain of life and recovery.

Because this Lisa did survive, and she has to grapple with the PTSD. She has to grapple with the loss of her family. She self-destructs and hurts others and hurts herself, and she's not that perfect, platonic ideal of a daughter to be missed. She's messy and complicated and hurting, and she's still worth every bit of love that the perfect version of her got. I'm not going to say what's coming, but Lisa's far from in a good place just because she's finally with Matt. She's going to act out and do some pretty terrible things. But that's completely understandable given where she is in the recovery process, and it's important to sever the conception of this "perfect" person with the one to be missed. Frank misses Frank Jr. just as much as he misses Lisa, but it's rarely shown that way, and I think it's a bit in part because his relationship wasn't shown to be as idealized as his relationship with Lisa.

So that's why it was vital that Lisa was the member of the Castle family that made it out. The reason why she needed to have Matt be the one to make a family with her was three fold.

it'd be so fucking funny.

can you imagine. your daughter dies tragically and you find out months later she's alive and has been adopted by the worst man alive. i fucking refuse to believe there is any version of frank castle that does not find the very concept of matt murdock insulting. he has never been more exasperated in his entire life. this man is so stupid. why is he in fucking devil horns. why does he have my daughter. god i want to fucking make them coparent.

2. it made the most narrative sense.

I needed a way to get Lisa out alive and in a way that easily introduced her back to the action. If frank survived the shootout, hypothetically speaking, anyone could, but they needed a way to be alive and off the radar. Stick is perfect. He's always looking for vulnerable orphans, and he directly feeds into the overarching conflict. Logistically, it made sense to bring her in through stick and then have that streamline straight into Matt.

3. It fulfills some of the biggest themes in this.

the first is saving each other instead of being the savior. family in this is about saving each other. it's not about one single person being the savior. foggy doesn't "fix" matt. Foggy can be a fucking mess on his own too, thank you very much. Foggy and Matt is a story about saving each other. They curb the worst in each other. Foggy is the one keeping Matt grounded, and Matt is the one keeping Foggy grounded. Foggy reminds Matt that the system can still work, but Matt in terms keeps Foggy from hiding behind the system. Like, I could write an entire essay about how foggy's moral approach is the platonic ideal of the Lawyer's Professional Rules of Ethics. Foggy believes in the system, but when the system doesn't work, he needs a push to leave it. And the fact of the fucking matter is, Matt's right. The system isn't working. Sometimes you need a dickhead in fucking leather fetish gear and horns to beat the shit out of a billionaire on live tv before people pay attention to the corrupt cops. There isn't any one "savior" in the family that sprouted up between Foggy, Matt, and Karen--each one of them is needed to make it work.

That being said, if Lisa was directly picked up by Frank, he would be saving her, and it wouldn't be mutual.

You could talk about how oh, lisa gives him a reason to live, lisa is his guiding light, lisa curbs his most violent tendencies, but that drifts uncomfortably into that territory of some random girl being the entire moral grounds of a violent man, and it would not be fucking fair to put on this lisa. This lisa is a mess of her own. She needs the space to heal without carrying the narrative weight of leading her father back from the brink.

The dynamic is completely different with Matt and Lisa. it isn't "Father saves his daughter," it's "two victims of the same abuser rebuild together."

Matt started in this as some kind of lighthouse to lisa, that was leading her to smash right up against the fucking rocks. She had an image of him on a pedestal, and it's one that can only lead her to self-destruction. In reality, Matt's someone who has lived experience deeply similar to her own. He's someone who understands what she feels in a way that no one else can, and that means he's able to help her heal in a way that no one else can.

Lisa, meanwhile, is a catalyst for change that Matt has never gotten in canon.

Canon matt is not fucking father material. This matt is not fucking father material. At best, he's the spencer to Lisa's Carly. But he's had to make conscious decisions to be better, to be the person he never had. It's a act of purposeful reconstruction that Matt has to either undertake or abandon entirely. Having someone so close that's a mirror of what happened to him is forcing him to heal from it in ways he never had to before.

I can't go too much into all the ways that Lisa's going to save Matt, mostly because we haven't seen them yet. She spent most of the last fic in foster care, so she hasn't been physically present to start driving the narrative by her own actions. Now that they're together, she can start affecting things, but I haven't written that yet. So, spoilers.

But I'd like to be clear, Lisa isn't some mini Matt from the past he now gets to save. Matt says as much, explicitly, because that's what most people assume. Matt really, truly, has begun to love her in the span of their relationship, and that means he's led to make the decision no one made for him--which was to take the effort. To step up, and to be the person they need. everyone else just looked at his mess and abandoned him. He's making the conscious decision to do the opposite, but he's not doing that because she's some totem of him that he can now save. It's an act of love, and that's revolutionary, because love is something neither of them were permitted. The Lisa and Matt dynamic started slightly from logistics but i kept it and made it into a story because it becomes a story about how picking love can be an act of rebellion and an act of healing all at once.

#therianthropy (and other goddamn lies) #matt murdock #lisa castle #fanfiction #ask games #this got long i'm very wordy folks sorry

[wise-tortoise]

Someone: *posts the gayest possible take with the gayest possible gifset of two characters who aren't even remotely related to each other*

Same person on the same post: if you tag this as ship i'll fucking kill you

#fandom rant #YES I AM THE SCARY SHIPPER YOUR MAMA WARNED YOU ABOUT #HIDE YOUR CHARACTERS OR I WILL SHIP THEM ROMANTICALLY #this is about a chengxian anti btw #they will never read this because i blocked them but i am Extremely Annoyed #what the fuck was the purpose #not only are you ignoring a culturally significant relationship #you are ALSO being PURPOSEFULLLY a dick to people who have done nothing to you #i don't claim to be a saint but you've got problems

[sylverstorms]

Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

-

-

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

-

-

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

-

-

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume –which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

-

-

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

#mother miranda x oc #mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #creative writing #commission #thank you so much :')

[punkscowardschampions]

Saint & Leilani

Saint: So, how many people with my surname have found their way into your inbox today? Leilani: few Saint: I hope those few have behaved and not been too taxing on your typing fingers or your patience Leilani: you're making it sound more fun & scandalous than it came close to Saint: That would be an odd but not unentirely precedented way to welcome you for us Saint: I'm just more than aware how...much, shall we be polite and say, some of them can be, even at the best of times Leilani: 😅 Leilani: are you forgetting which one of you I live with? Saint: 😅 Saint: I am in no way doubting your ability to cope with it, or previous experience doing so, just apologizing for the times you don't feel like being so gracious about their...persistence Leilani: thanks, I think? Leilani: the sentence was a mouthful to digest but I detected some sweetness in it Saint: I'm happy to apologize for my taste as well Saint: and will try to be more palatable Leilani: coming thick & fast but still smooth with it, that's impressive Saint: I'll accept that I'm potentially being much of a muchness with some of the more well-meaning but over-the-top members of my family, if that's what you're saying Saint: but admittedly, I'll struggle to hear I'm on par with certain ones who best remain nameless until I get more of a gage for your tolerance of their particular brand of care 😅 Leilani: I'm not saying much, personally, until I work out how much of this welcome wagon is genuinely what you'd like to say vs what you feel like you must Leilani: to make up for the rest or walk on eggshells in case I crack up Saint: Well, I haven't been instructed to talk to you, if that's what you mean Saint: and without a doubt, I have no idea how I would ideally like to broach this subject, because I have literally no firsthand experience Saint: I imagine that must be frustrating, is it? Leilani: it can be coming from you but not coming from you, if you know what I mean Leilani: deep in there, maybe you've got a whole other convo you'd love to be having Saint: I'm receptive to any conversation you'd like to have Saint: well, almost any, I'm sure Leilani: you & everybody else Leilani: the talk about me is non-stop Saint: We wouldn't have to talk about you Saint: I don't have any particular bias towards the subject of you, though it would be bad manners to ask you no questions about yourself, I can refrain if you have, like I said and assumed, had enough for a while Leilani: it's good manners if I'm in no mood to answer questions about me Leilani: but it'd be my bad to tell you to shush & end this convo just like that Saint: As you've saved me from the mortal sin of impoliteness with your rhetoric there, I'll save you from having to do so and can leave it there Leilani: take a turn in the hot seat, see how you feel about it Leilani: prep if I haven't saved you from 👿🔥 Saint: I'm not inclined to believe the creator would be that unforgiving, but that's what Catholicism will do for your morals, I suppose Saint: Fire away, as it were 🔥 Leilani: you're a catholic? Saint: Culturally, definitely Saint: I'm not sure my commitment to the church is such I can claim myself as fully saved, yet Leilani: mine goes as far as loving the 1st Eid for its treats & ignoring the sacrifices of the 2nd, can't call it commitment Saint: I don't think you're alone in that philosophy and approach Saint: but I don't necessarily think that's terrible at all, as long as you're finding some joy and fulfilment from religion- that is certainly a huge tenant of all the ones I've heard of, so it can only be a positive Leilani: how my friends celebrate 🎄🎁🎅 shows me I'm not Leilani: party > church Saint: Precisely, commercialism argument aside Saint: any promotion of togetherness, community and goodwill, what could be the issue? Leilani: the issue is in the confusion Leilani: people thinking it's something its not Saint: There's plenty issue around 🎄🎁🎅 but no more than most anything in our society today Leilani: if you're trying to take issue with something on any level, you'll find a way Saint: Don't you think problems should be solved? Leilani: if it can Leilani: big if Saint: Of course Saint: I think the if only makes the pursuit of more vital, I don't find it to be invalidating Leilani: sure but some questions aren't if or but ones Saint: Such as? Leilani: if I said, you're the fittest member of this family, let's go out, your answer would be no, becos you are a member of this family, it doesn't matter if you add I would if I wasn't Leilani: the answer's still no Saint: No, my answer would be that there's truly only one absolute in this life Saint: that I know of Saint: there are laws, ethics, morality and codes of conduct in all societies, sure Saint: but nothing is certain Leilani: birth & death are certain Leilani: one brought you here, the other me Saint: I was thinking about death Saint: birth is luck, usually, it's a little different Leilani: 🤔 Leilani: accepted Saint: We can differ on perspectives there, it's fine 😃 Saint: in fact, the father would probably want to put forth an argument for the opposite, now I think about it Saint: worse Catholic than I thought Leilani: I was thinking that 🤰 = birth, the certainty part being you don't get to stay in but you know Saint: I see what you mean Saint: anyone that is here is a certainty Saint: think we're going into Schroedinger territory there, I respect it Leilani: 🙀📦 Saint: 👍 Saint: who am I to say that whatever people are before and after they're people here can't debate philosophy Leilani: these are bigger questions than I expected Saint: And I wasn't meant to even ask how you were Saint: 🤐 Saint: go on Leilani: I've got a headache now 😅 Saint: Oh dear Saint: That's the first time that's happened, I would assure you but that sounds like a losing battle and another knock for my ego Leilani: your ego wants to take it as brush off, retro as hell Leilani: but I don't get questions that deep posed around me is all Saint: Retro...God, just don't take my 'deep' questions as a sign of pretension or I'm getting more tragic by the second! Leilani: it's okay I'm not a downtrodden wifey from back in the day, we're in an era where I can just tell you no Saint: and we're all the better for it Saint: though I don't think I've asked you any question where you'd be directly answerable to me 🤔 Saint: giving me a little too much credit for the universe and it's many questions there Leilani: I don't want your ego to end this convo black & blue Saint: That's very kind of you Saint: but my ability to take criticism could be compared to your ability to cope with Grace, just so we're clear Leilani: Grace isn't hard to cope with Leilani: I like her Saint: I'm glad to hear that, it would be really hard if you didn't Saint: harder, than it is, of course Saint: don't think I'm bashing her really, as I said, they all mean well, I can just imagine that relentless good intentions and meaningful conversations to be had would get very exhausting very fast Leilani: everything's happened fast Leilani: they're all playing catch up to the unexpected Saint: But you're the important one here Saint: most, although I was adding that to try and take the pressure off but clearly that's easier said than done Leilani: this is where I add something about pressure creating 💎 Saint: I don't loathe the sentiment but does it make you feel any better? Leilani: no Saint: then I wouldn't worry Saint: and I doubt there's anything hugely meaningful I can do to make you feel better in an impactful, big way Saint: but if you think of anything on a smaller scale that you would like Saint: don't hesistate to ask Leilani: will you introduce me to everyone in a retro way? Leilani: 🗨  & 🤝 Saint: That I can do Saint: The upsides to this family being as large as it is is that you're never short of functions to hijack for whatever purpose you may need Saint: and you won't have to worry about being centre of attention unless it's your birth, wedding or death Saint: even then, people have their own agendas Leilani: no pressure or as close as Leilani: when's the next? Saint: Exactly Saint: [literally whatever and whenever we want, offer a selection to show your point lol] Leilani: [picks the one where she can serve the best lewk because gotta make an impression regardless especially when you're nervous] Leilani: it's a date Saint: That it is Saint: if you'd rather show up with another kid, I'm happy to come pick you up from Grace's Saint: up to you, of course Leilani: pick me up 🚗 Leilani: I have no idea how Grace is allowed on the road Saint: 😅 Saint: I suppose they reckon the amount of potholes, we're all playing a dangerous game at the mercy of the council Leilani: 🙏 by god's grace like Saint: Seems that's all that's left in the budget 🙄 Leilani: 😅😅 Saint: I think you're in my sister's year Saint: Venus, that is Leilani: what should I think about it? Saint: You know you hypothesized that I was the fittest member of this family? Leilani: it's too late to drop the bomb that I should've asked her to pick me up Saint: She'll need a lift as much as you Saint: but meaning, she'd have taken DEEP offence to that assertion Saint: the headache would be realer Leilani: oops Leilani: & yikes Saint: again, not here on a smear campaign Saint: but I'd be doing you a disservice if I pretended she's universally easy to get on with Saint: perhaps you'll take to each other though Leilani: I'm not easy to get on with atm Leilani: but I do get a free pass Saint: You're doing fine Saint: unless this is your attempt at belligerence, in which case, sorry 😬 Leilani: attempting nothing but no pressure face to face intros Leilani: how could you forget already? Saint: 🤦 forgive me? Leilani: 💅 Leilani: hold on, I'll ask myself what my god would do Leilani: ... Leilani: yeah sure Saint: 😅 Saint: I was hoping distraction only fell under bad manners, not sin Leilani: it depends how you're distracting me Saint: What I offered would depend on how 😇/😈 you preferred your distractions Leilani: if I don't have both on offer how can I possibly choose? Saint: That's completely fair, actually Leilani: I know Leilani: so don't be unfair Saint: Wouldn't dream of it Leilani: is there anyone else you'd like to warn me about, while you're being fair? Leilani: or anyone I should run into the arms of like 🤗🤗? Saint: Warn would be extreme Saint: I don't think anyone is that bad Saint: I would have to know you better personally to say who I think you'd really click with, but there's plenty of us, I'm sure you will with someone Leilani: indulge me in the drama of it, St Leilani: 🤦😅 Saint: Oh, right Saint: you want the gossip of it all so you also have prior information on them coming into the conversations Saint: let me think then Leilani: I miss when my friends wanted to talk about that stuff Leilani: instead of me & my feelings Saint: That makes sense Saint: maybe you and Vee will get on then Saint: there's just a lot of drama to get into Saint: your head and inbox would be rocked Leilani: I've got time Leilani: & my head's already a mess Saint: Okay then Saint: bear with me if my typing speed gets retro Leilani: 😄 Saint: [just methodically go through all that is messed up with the fam nbd] Leilani: holy hell Leilani: I know I asked for that but did I though? Leilani: where have I come to live Leilani: 👋🚕 Saint: Yes Saint: sorry Leilani: hold on I need to just ✈️ Leilani: I thought my mum's relationship history was crazy Saint: It is what it is Saint: we all still manage fine Leilani: by the grace of god again, or whatever other means necessary Saint: Maybe Saint: I don't think it's all that dire now Leilani: maybe when I've come though all the stages of grief I'll be able to let you know what I think Saint: Look forward to it Leilani: I did make it sound really hot Saint: 😏 Saint: we're not all messed up, thank you Leilani: I'm used to being that half of the convo Leilani: you do you Saint: How are you messed up then? Leilani: other than having no parents now? Saint: Yeah Leilani: I'm not doing this right Leilani: any of it Saint: What aren't you doing right? Leilani: I miss her but like she's gone on holiday or a work course Leilani: not like she's never coming back Saint: Well, what's the first stage of grieving Saint: you feel like you aren't missing her hard enough, but if you were out of denial already, you'd actually be taking it way too fast Saint: be rude, right? Saint: Think of it like that Leilani: my rudeness is worse, wanting to hang out with my friends how I did before Leilani: care about 👗👠💄 Saint: Your entire world has been turned upside down Saint: of course you're craving normality Saint: I'm not just saying all this to appease you Saint: you're a kid that just lost her mum Saint: I literally do not believe there's any way you could get through this that would be wrong, or would reflect poorly on you Leilani: she needs to walk back in & badmouth all her worst clients Leilani: she can't be lost Saint: I'm so sorry Saint: that it's so unfair Leilani: unfair was when my dad stopped sending money & letters after going back home for what he said would be a few months Leilani: this is Leilani: I don't even know Saint: How old were you? Leilani: does it make a difference? Saint: Did it? Leilani: I'd just started school, so financially, yeah Saint: Do you know what he's doing now, like, where he is? Leilani: no Leilani: my mum said he had another family there Leilani: someone he was actually married to Saint: Right Saint: that was a cowardly thing for him to do Saint: the minimum would've been financial support Leilani: sadly I can't get it backdated Leilani: imagine Leilani: 👗👠💄 Saint: I'd have to look into it Saint: but probably not Saint: very hard to enforce at any rate Leilani: & taking food out of his other children's mouths, assuming he has some others Saint: Yeah Saint: but you can't be held responsible for his life choices Leilani: neither can they then Saint: I meant it'd be his problem to worry about and solve Saint: but I can understand not wanting to literally steal candy from a baby, as it were Leilani: I haven't been his problem for years, I'm Grace's now Leilani: this family's with all their existing crazy Saint: Okay, getting in contact with your dad for reparations isn't the first step Leilani: it's a mis-step Leilani: he fell off the earth, I'm not following him Saint: Okay Saint: so, what would you be doing with your friends today, if things were normal? Leilani: 🛍 Saint: So, I'll give you both options Saint: I can drive you to your friends, or whatever 🛍 you go to with them Saint: or you can come 🛍 with me Leilani: you can take me Leilani: they don't know how to act now that I'm 💣💥 Saint: they probably think they're giving you time Saint: but really, they're asking for it Saint: at least, that's how I see it Saint: maybe next weekend, or the next Saint: but we can go for now Leilani: it's okay, I wouldn't deal any better if the roles were reversed Leilani: it's not their bad that there's nothing to say or do Saint: You're very fair Saint: not to detract from how much of a 💣💥 you feel Leilani: you're flattering me like I'm not a 💣💥 Leilani: I don't know what that says about you Saint: It's honesty, not flattery Saint: The situation is a 💣💥 Saint: I've seen people handle significantly worse, that's all Leilani: it feels nice, honesty doesn't usually Saint: that's a resounding endorsement Saint: probably a bit too smug to put on a poster or LinkedIn but still, I appreciate it Leilani: you know what I mean, honesty is usually like that 💅 isn't the one or you need braces, child Saint: I think people purposefully conflate being honest with being rude Saint: but you can weaponize anything if you're that sort of person Leilani: yeah ☕ Saint: There's plenty of that sort at church Leilani: & the salon Saint: I've spent less time there myself but I imagine they're much of a muchness Saint: 👵 they all love me, obviously but father is a perfect case study for diplomacy Leilani: it's a type of church for some people Leilani: they take it as serious as a religion Saint: Hair and beauty has always been important Leilani: they just like being able to see results, there's no guarantee when you pray Saint: I'd argue there's no guarantee you get the result you wanted Saint: perhaps even less than 🙏 Saint: maybe you get what you need, not what you want Leilani: 😅😅 Leilani: maybe not for 👵 if they're trying to look 👩 Saint: it highlights the limitations of communication Saint: you think you've asked concisely for one thing, and you end up with something that's nothing like that at all Leilani: I swear I did see my mum work some genuine miracles, that said Saint: It is without a doubt impressive what can be achieved Leilani: what do you want to be? Saint: I want to work for the government Leilani: we haven't been talking that long but that has come through Saint: Is there any particular way you'd like me to take that honesty? Leilani: as a compliment? Leilani: I think Saint: 😅 I think I can manage that then Leilani: I'll tell you what I used to want to be when I was a child, that's weirder Saint: Not admitting it's weird, but go on Saint: I'm intrigued Leilani: clues: Leilani: 🦷💉🥛😁 Leilani: 🚫🍬🍭🍫 Saint: Okay, question, just the one Saint: did you want to be rich or did you just really care about oral hygiene? Leilani: I wanted to make people pretty like my mum, I suppose was the thought process Leilani: & 😁 = happy Saint: So it's even more adorable than I first thought Saint: you don't want to be a dentist anymore? Leilani: the reality is way more gory than I knew then Saint: That's enough to give me a headache Leilani: I need a job with no blood or pus Leilani: even typing that made me feel weird Saint: 😖 Saint: Subject change Saint: are you going to buy anything today? Leilani: do I need to dress to impress your family or just myself? Saint: do you want me to invite my family out shopping with us? Leilani: you do have a lot of sisters Leilani: but you know I meant do I need a new outfit for this meet & greet you're taking me to of the entire extended clan Saint: Oh, gotcha Saint: dress for yourself, of course Saint: unless dressing to impress makes you feel more at ease, in which case, go for that and you won't be alone Leilani: it can't hurt Saint: No, there we go then 😊 Saint: though you can still do the aimless browsing I know 🛍 trips are really about, of course Leilani: are you looking to dress up too? Saint: I like to look presentable Leilani: oh good becos if it was just me, Grace & your sister that'd be a statement Saint: 😅 Saint: don't worry, it won't be Leilani: I'll do my happy dentist 😁 then Leilani: as I'm thrilled Saint: I'm just as 😁 to hear that Leilani: I'll try not to turn it into a frown with excessive browsing Leilani: no promises Saint: I've got a lot of sisters, as you said Saint: I'm sure I'll cope Leilani: which one's your favourite? Saint: which sister? 😂 Saint: I'm not sure there's a diplomatic way to answer that Leilani: answer it honestly, I can promise not to slide in to share the news Saint: Well, Jay is older and we didn't meet her until she was a kid so that combined with her personality makes her the most chilled out now Saint: Vee is younger but still close enough that we were kids together, so that makes her prime annoying younger sister category Saint: then the twins are that much younger that they get to be removed from that, and I have more of that protective older brother in me Leilani: Okay so Jay's your fave Leilani: what's your brother like? Saint: No, I didn't say that Saint: but she wasn't here in the beginning and she's grown up and gone now, it's easy to have less negatives to say about her Leilani: how old were you when you met? Saint: I was about 3 when we found out about her Saint: but the process took a while because she had a dad that raised her and still wanted to even though she wasn't his like he thought Saint: I think I was about 8 when she moved in and spent most of her time with us Leilani: that must have been such a weird time Saint: it was Saint: Vee was born around the time we found out about her so Saint: that was a trial too Leilani: your parents have had a LOT going on Saint: Yes, it seems to be their forte Leilani: your brother then Saint: he's younger too, so again, protective Saint: probably because we're outnumbered too Leilani: an if question Leilani: if you had to give me one of them, as an only child, which one would you give me? Saint: 😂 an odd request but okay, let me 🤔 Saint: Probably Sekh Saint: from the short conversation we've had, you have things in common, that would work well 🛍👠💄👗 Leilani: you're gonna separate the twins? very disney channel Saint: It was either lump them in together there and offend them, or separate and acknowledge that they're separate people Saint: they'll understand 😅 Leilani: 😅 Leilani: safer if I ask Grace for a pet instead Saint: Sure that she'd be down for that Saint: 🐰🐹🐱🐶🐠? Leilani: 🤔 Saint: That is a big decision Saint: best to take your time, decide how much effort you wanna put in to day to day care Leilani: 🐱 or 🏠🐰 Saint: Cute Saint: got any names or do you need to see it before assigning one Leilani: it feels fairer to meet them 1st Saint: 👍 Saint: we can go to the nearest pet shop/shelter if you'd like Leilani: adopt don't shop, St Leilani: or else 👿🔥 Saint: Indeed 😏 Saint: but you know most shops rescue their animals now anyway Saint: except fish...but I don't know how we're morally meant to feel about breeding fish? Leilani: we won't buy any, be on the safe & 😇 side Saint: It's your day Saint: I wouldn't try to bring you down to 👿🔥 levels Leilani: thanks, I have only just moved in Saint: Definitely not my intention with this conversation, or any going forward Leilani: that comes through too Saint: Is that a compliment? Leilani: I don't know if you're 😁 or not to be a good & polite boy Saint: Why would I want to be anything less 😇? Leilani: becos of your name maybe Saint: Subverting expectations Saint: I'd argue people expect the opposite from me though, regardless of my first name Leilani: in your case pressure makes 😇 Saint: 🤞 I hope so Leilani: I'll subvert expectations for us both Saint: Is that your new plan? Leilani: I don't really have one Leilani: other than the 🛍 Saint: Well, you have time Leilani: yeah, it's the keyword that's getting thrown around most atm Saint: It's not provably true but it's most likely the case Leilani: & it'll fill an awkward silence Saint: I can clearly talk enough for the both of us Saint: it doesn't need to be awkward Leilani: this isn't, but remember how we ref-ed that you weren't the only McKenna in my 💬📱 Saint: Right Saint: is there anything you'd like me to do, beyond the formal introductions Saint: politely suggest some people give it some time, perhaps? Leilani: use the time thing against them, I like it 😅 Saint: Only fair 🙂 Saint: consider it done Leilani: we're back into retro hubby & wifey territory Saint: You think? Leilani: it's very defence squad but I'm not 😤 Saint: I'm not helping you because you're a girl and I'm a boy Saint: just because I have the ability to Leilani: I know, you're coming across capable Saint: I'd like to think so Saint: but bragging about it would not be 😇 nor helpful Leilani: I've got your back in hyping you up a 😇 amount Saint: That's sweet Saint: I promise my ego is not that fragile that I need you to but it's still nice Leilani: I'd like to think I am Leilani: that it's not all doom & gloom in me, but maybe time will have to tell, annoyingly Saint: It shows Saint: honestly Saint: you aren't what's happened to you, even if that is all you can think about right now, or feel it's all you're meant to, or are allowed to, whatever Leilani: whether or not I'm her death, I was her life Leilani: there's credit for how she raised me, I mean Saint: Definitely Saint: I don't know you yet, but I would like to get to know you, from what I've seen Saint: I won't throw out proud for her but, you know Saint: I would be in her position Leilani: I don't know what to say Leilani: that feels above nice to hear Saint: I'm almost certain she would want you to know that, at the very least Leilani: yeah, she would Leilani: she wasn't too humble for a brag Saint: 😅 Saint: you should continue that tradition then Leilani: you'll regret saying that when I make you take 10000000000000s of pictures of me posing in different 👗 Saint: 😏 I'll have to buy myself something expensive to cope, I'm sure Leilani: ⌚️ so you can keep an eye on the time Saint: I have an uncharacteristically free day today Saint: my time is yours Leilani: what are we waiting for? come get me Saint: That's what I was waiting for Saint: I'll be with you shortly Leilani: consent given Saint: 👍

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Ro

Ali: what's wrong Ro: What do you mean? There's nothing wrong Ro: I'm fine, thank you Ali: why aren't you talking to us then Ro: We are talking Ro: As for her, I have no idea who she is, so forgiven me for being hesitant Ali: She goes to School with us Ali: has done for like Ali: ever Ro: Well, I've never seen her before Ali: now's the perfect chance to meet her then Ro: When she's taken god knows what, I don't think so Ali: whatever she's taken doesn't impair your ability to be courteous, does it Ali: she was being perfectly nice to you and you were quite rude, frankly Ro: Telling me how pretty I am isn't nice, it's superficial Ali: you don't lose humility points by accepting compliments, come on Ali: if anything, what did Shakespeare say about protesting too much Ro: If anything, I lose credibility for accepting compliments that are clearly that false Ro: Particularly from someone who won't remember the interaction tomorrow Ali: How is that clear Ali: at all Ro: No girls are that nice, not to me Ro: Whatever she's setting me up for, I wish for no part in Ali: not to her either, if you cast your mind back, I'm sure you'll recall her name and the bitchery attached if nothing else Ali: that's just how she is, or how high people are, if you'd prefer Ali: it's genuine Ro: Oh, that's who she is. Now it makes sense why you've taken her under your protective wing for the day Ali: excuse me? Ro: You are very much a patron saint of lost causes at times, dear sister Ro: It's genuinely to be applauded Ro: I can do that from afar though Ali: Can you? Ali: because you're doing a poor job if you claim you are currently Ro: All I'm claiming at the moment is that the spectacle of the two of you is a little much to witness in such close quarters Ali: we're enjoying the BBQ Ali: it is meant to be a party Ro: It's a family BBQ, there's very little cause or need for celebration attached Ali: that might be how you wanna do it Ali: but not me Ro: Clearly Ro: It's very apparent you wish to have your cake & eat it, regardless of whether or not you leave the grill well enough alone Ali: I'm not sure you're very sure of anything right now Ali: least of all what you think of me and my intentions Ali: just ask me Ali: or say what you mean, at the very least Ro: I'm sure I don't see your girlfriend here, and yet, I somehow I almost do Ro: The next at the very least Ali: For one, Carly is straight Ali: and for two, I'm not going to make you break up with her for me, even if I was, so there's no need to concern yourself with that Ro: I'm not sure you're very sure of her of her or her intentions, Ali Ali: I take people at face value Ali: for better or worse Ali: I'm not forcing you to do the same but surface level is a little beneath all of us, no? Ro: Is she not a little beneath you? Ali: no Ali: who is Ali: what do you even mean by that Ro: Would you or would you not be in this vastly inappropriate state right now if she was not here Ro: She's bad news is what I therefore mean Ali: I'm high, I'm not Ali: shouting racial slurs or denying the holocaust, Lord Ali: and I've been high, plenty of times Ali: a second ago you didn't know her now you're certain she's bad news Ro: I know what everyone says about her Ro: That she doesn't deny any of it, quite the opposite Ali: so? Ali: like you said, everyone says things about you too Ali: doesn't make it right, even if any of it's true Ro: I'm not proud of being scapegoated, she obviously revels in her reputation, true or otherwise Ro: Is that how you want to be now? Ali: so she should revel in shame instead? Ali: maybe it's how she deals with it, I don't suppose to know Ali: but I don't suppose to say either of you is right or wrong, either so Ro: I'm not saying she's wrong, I'm not saying anything Ali: you don't need to Ali: I know you Ro: If you knew me even slightly you wouldn't be asking me to socialise with her Ali: I'm not asking you to be her best friend, or to even say much of anything at all Ali: just not be outright rude to her when she was polite to you Ali: shy or not, there's no need Ro: I don't know how to respond to that, is all Ro: you wouldn't take it so personally if you weren't so invested in this girl all of a sudden Ali: yes I would Ali: you being rude to any of my friends Ali: or guests, frankly, as I said, no need Ali: even if you have to resort to an awkward laugh and a thanks, your reply doesn't have to match in sincerity Ro: Knowing me, as you claim, you'd be aware that I was not rude in the slightest Ro: Walking away when you have nothing nice to say is in fact the polite approach, supposedly Ali: so now I don't know you? Ali: this is just silly Ali: but fine, if that's how you'd like it, I'll take a leaf from your book Ro: You're in a silly mood & not one that I'm here to entertain, that, indeed, is what your guest is for Ali: A silly mood Ali: Patronizing, for a start Ro: Well, again, you'll have to forgive me because that is how Tess is choosing to behave towards me in light of your every action and the frustrations for her therein Ro: You get to do as you please & I have to wage war over quantities of salad that have or have not touched my plate & so Ro: Here we find ourselves Ro: On opposite sides of this party Ali: I suddenly have control over her Ali: she'd pull you up on that regardless, you know she would Ali: perhaps more politely or gently but seems tempers are flaring as hot as the weather calls for Ro: You have control over yourself, or would, if you were not intoxicated by & with your guest Ro: & I would have someone to distract me from the torment if you remembered that I'm also on the list of invited people Ali: you don't know what I'm on, even, nor the effects Ali: again, if you'd have just asked me, I'd tell you Ali: I can't very well leave her alone as soon as we arrive Ali: especially when everyone is being as unwelcoming as possible Ro: You can very well leave me alone & yet still expect me to be welcoming Ali: I've not left you alone Ali: I was trying to talk to you Ro: You were trying to get me to talk to her, it's entirely different Ali: again, what am I going to do Ali: tell her to go away for a second whilst we have a private conversation Ali: we have all the time for that Ro: You invited her, you could have not, or warned me that you were Ali: okay, I could have told you, I accept that Ali: I didn't see it being the issue it is but fair Ro: I accept that I was abrupt & could've made her uncomfortable, in spite of it not being my intention Ali: okay Ali: that's fine then Ro: I'll resolve to try harder when I'm not in as much of a trying situation as this Ali: alright Ali: do you want me to talk to mum Ro: No Ro: I want her to stop talking about me like I'm being a problem Ali: I know Ali: that just makes her think she can solve it Ali: if she puts it like that Ali: it's a her thing Ro: Why am I even a topic of conversation, aside from not having one with Carly I've done nothing wrong Ali: they just worry Ali: that's their job Ali: has to be about something Ro: She has plenty of actual things to worry about or real problems to solve Ali: well you know Ali: glutton for punishment or whatever Ro: Well, she should go be a glutton for burgers before the flies are Ali: 😂 Ali: very true Ali: and good idea Ro: My IQ may not match yours point for point but it's sufficient enough for a 💡 or two Ro: On occasion Ali: 😏 okay okay Ro: Even when my enthusiasm has dimmed because Tess is trying to fatten me up for the new school year Ali: it is autumn term Ali: anyway Ali: amount of celery in it there's like, no gain Ro: Anyway, there are no such thing as negative calorie foods Ro: Celery still has 10 per stick Ali: yeah but burn that off by giving mum dirty looks whilst nomming Ali: easy Ro: if you could burn calories with looks she'd be a lot thinner Ali: savage Ro: & Bea would be invisible Ro: Alas, she can very much be seen Ali: not for much longer Ro: Mysterious Ali: not really Ali: uni beckons Ro: She'll still have to show herself, he's here Ali: of course Ali: wouldn't be surprised if he ends up there though Ro: Very little would surprise me when it comes to the two of them Ro: if they actually parted ways for good perhaps Ali: seriously Ro: Cathy & Heathcliff wish they were that intense Ali: what actually constitutes a moor Ali: have to check Ro: Typically, uncultivated hill land Ali: Hmm, reckon we're safe then Ali: technically moutains so Ro: & there are no low lying wetlands either which also constitute moors in the south of England Ali: is where she's going so Ali: cracked it Ali: not about the prestige at all Ro: If she packs a flowing nightdress it's proven Ali: I'll get her one Ali: going away present Ro: I'll embroider something fitting on it, just give me enough time Ali: but of course Ro: I'm sure it'll be extremely appreciated Ali: 'bout all I can afford, sadly Ali: have to get a sugar daddy herself Ro: You could always regift her the work itself, we have a copy that doesn't have too much marginalia as yet, that's free Ali: you should Ali: it's a good idea Ro: Potentially Ro: There are lots of other books I could add too, as applicable in their own ways Ali: quite how she's taking all the stuff she has as is Ali: da will probably have to drive Ro: She'll probably become a minimalist just before Ro: Take almost nothing Ali: with all those clothes? Ali: good luck Ro: Capsule wardrobes are very on trend, apparently Ro: Especially for students Ali: I'll have to Ali: though I'll miss the dressing up cupboard 💔 Ro: You don't have to take shoes, that'll leave room for costumes Ali: 💡 #2 Ro: Just believe, all you have to do Ali: 🙏 Ro: 🌠 Ali: [the fraze stuff happens] Ali: I'll see you later Ali: gonna party on Ro: Oh okay Ro: With or without your friend and brother? Ali: I highly doubt he's going anywhere without Bea's say-so Ro: Is she going to follow you or her wandering eye? Ali: I don't know Ali: she's got the deets Ro: & that's fine with you Ali: Not her keeper, like Ali: no doubt any of 'em will take great delight kicking her out if she don't go of her own freewill Ro: You don't think it's odd that you consider me rude for refusing to engage in conversation but not her for flirting with your brother right in front of you when you've been flirting with each other since you arrived Ro: & goodness knows how long before that Ali: I consider it rude to Bea, at best Ali: just embarrassing for me, and the rest of us Ro: I told you, she's got no shame, you'll need to take a leaf from that same book if you're going to be friends, I think Ali: let's not Ro: Fine, but it's not me you're mad at, let's not pretend that you don't need to address this with her Ali: I'm not mad either Ali: it is what it is Ali: I don't know what you propose I should do Ali: or should want to do, even Ro: It's obvious what you want to do Ali: is it Ro: Yes Ro: To you & the rest of us Ali: It just makes me sad, if anything Ro: You're allowed to be sad that she's not immune to Fraze's charms Ro: We were all hoping for better from her Ali: very droll Ro: Very accurate Ro: I thought she only had her head turned by travelers Ali: it's not that deep, babe Ro: I did say head turned, not heart stolen Ali: like I said, not a big deal Ro: If that's true, why are you sad? Ali: I'm sad FOR her Ali: not because of Ali: that she feels the need to do these things, and would continue without any indication that she should Ro: Earlier you didn't suppose to know how she feels, now you do? Ali: I'm not that dense Ali: can continue to think it's a joke though Ali: I don't care Ro: You can't have it both ways, either it's 'not that deep' & she's free to emerge relatively unscathed as are you, or it is, & it needs to be addressed Ali: Jesus Ali: you don't get it Ali: it's not that deep like Ali: if it wasn't Fraze it'd be someone, anyone else Ali: he's irrelevant to the equation, she's not picked him to be malicious or some shit like that Ro: I understood that perfectly well Ro: & either you're both fine with that or you aren't Ro: Which is it to be Ali: just because it is doesn't mean anyone has to be fine with it Ali: never said that Ali: that's not how life works Ro: if you like her, tell her Ro: that's how life works Ali: it really isn't Ro: Yes it is Ro: pick up a book, turn on the TV, look around Ali: that's not real Ro: Every relationship started with a confession Ro: There's nothing more real Ali: just stop Ro: She'll do it for you eventually, if you're willing to wait & pine Ali: when have I ever pined Ali: you're just being stupid now Ro: Exactly my point, why start now Ali: you were giving me plenty of reasons earlier Ali: I have a girlfriend, she's straight, main two Ro: She clearly likes you too, however she identifies Ali: it isn't that simple Ro: You're making it complicated Ro: before you're even spoken to her Ali: no, I've spoken to her Ali: it was you that hasn't Ro: Oh okay & she said she wasn't interested in you romantically Ali: yeah Ro: Fine Ro: Because you've got a girlfriend or because she prefers boys Ali: because she likes boys, only Ro: Perhaps she's just a tactile person and genuinely very complimentary Ro: But that sounds way less real than anything I said that you disbelieved Ali: I dunno, okay Ali: why are you suddenly so for it though? Ro: Why wouldn't I want you to be happy? Ro: That's rude Ali: isn't she gonna drag me down Ro: I've never made any secret of how I feel about anyone you've chosen to date thus far, just because my feelings are negative towards them doesn't mean yours are Ro: Or should be Ali: neither have I Ali: Carly's going out with Ronan, you know Ro: I doubt she's going out with him Ro: not in any committed way Ali: why Ali: you know exactly how committed he can be Ro: She wouldn't be flirting with you or Fraze if she felt similarly Ali: maybe they're chill like that Ali: can't all be Bea and Fraze Ro: Change committed to traditional in that instance Ali: don't blame them Ro: Of course you wouldn't, if their relationship is open, you have your opportunity to be with her back Ali: charming Ali: I'm not that scheming Ro: I'm not sure your absent girlfriend would agree but I'm not saying that you are Ali: what are you accusing me of on her behalf then, like Ro: I'm not accusing you of anything Ali: 👍 Ro: It's Carly's motives you should be careful of Ro: If you're so certain she's not interested, well, she's definitely enjoying your attention Ali: it's no effort for me Ali: she can have it Ro: Until it makes you sad Ali: it won't Ali: no more than I can handle Ali: don't worry Ro: That's impossible, telling me not to worry is like telling the stars not to come out or trying to change the tides Ali: well Ali: I know that Ali: but you don't need to worry about me, yeah Ali: like you said, more important, real things, yeah? Ro: it is real, I saw it Ro: & you're my favourite person to worry about, on account of being my favourite person that exists beyond the pages of a book Ali: 💚💚💚 Ali: I'll come for Hermione etc crown one day Ro: You'll need strong magic Ali: I know you're never doubting my magik Ro: I like to hope nothing's changed that much Ro: but the moon's not that forthcoming when I ask her about it Ro: The cards do tell me not to doubt you however, you'll be glad to know Ali: it hasn't Ali: good Ali: I'll be asking plenty questions of my own Ali: once I'm back Ro: I'm wishing on everything there is to make them on, with fingers of course crossed, toes too Ro: You should Ro: They've cleared a lot up for me so far this summer Ali: they always bring clarity, even if not obvious at first, or the desired clarity Ro: You remember that, it's a good start Ro: Perhaps you are still in there Ali: come on Posy Ali: I've not gone anywhere Ro: You have undeniably left, the where of which is unknown to me yet Ali: only literally Ali: physically Ali: just going to a house party Ro: No, it's as true figuratively, emotionally etc Ro: The distance exists and is only widening Ali: don't say that Ro: It's happening whether I speak it aloud or not Ali: only if we let it Ali: which I won't Ro: So I'll see you tomorrow Ro: that's a promise Ali: of course Ali: 'less you're planning to pack your bag and run off into the night Ali: need t discuss who's books, clothes, everything, is whose so you can't really Ro: Not unless I can also capture a star to use as a sufficiently bright torch Ali: wait 'til sunrise, sensible Ali: Rocky's probably gonna be jumping on mum and dad's heads but don't mean they'll notice anything Ro: After yoga, of course, I have a schedule whether or not running away has been penciled in does not necessarily mean it's prioritised above all Ali: again, so sensible Ro: It is me you're speaking to Ro: wise beyond her years or precocious, if you'd rather & it's not too late for that to still apply Ali: 😂 Ro: Well goodnight, if I'm to get up with the rising of the sun for my great escape, I'd better rest a while Ali: Oíche mhaith, codladh sámh 💚 Ro: Tú grá geal mo chroí 💞 Ro: be careful tonight Ali: 🤞